by D. D. Chance
I waved the books back to their place on the shelves, pausing a moment to watch the gilded tomes float cheerfully across the room. Simple magic like this never failed to make me feel like the most ridiculous of Disney princesses. And one, it turned out, who’d unexpectedly received a real Faery-tale ending.
Sweeping my gaze past the open windows, I took in what I could see of the field beyond the academy’s wide verandas. I couldn’t help but notice the flowers, of course, peeking out of the forest beyond the rich, rolling lawn and spilling into the open field, but Niall’s angry curse refocused me, and I took off at a fast clip so I didn’t miss another second of whatever trouble he and Alaric were getting into.
The first-floor office was only the most basic of the changes that had taken place in Witchling Academy, and it was still changing bit by bit as I more fully took ownership of my place in the Fae realm. A place I never thought I would see, let alone feel comfortable in.
How much of what was happening now had my grandmother foreseen? Not much, I was pretty sure. Reagan Hogan had seen only the death and disaster that her unwanted union with the king of the Fae would cause. She had fled and left a hundred years of fear and distrust in her wake, but she’d done the best she could. Most witches did.
“You think you can get ahead of me by cheating? That’s not how this works, little boy.”
Alaric’s choked-off sputter of alarm had me picking up my pace, and I crossed the office with longer strides, my booted feet clacking on the wooden floor, its wide silver-and-white panels lifted directly from what had been my great-grandmother’s cottage at the edge of the lake. That small haven had disappeared the same day the original Witchling Academy had, the morning after Aiden had made his peace with the Fomorian king. So many changes had already taken place, and so many more were yet to come.
By the time I exited the academy building onto the wide lawn, I realized I wasn’t the only one distracted by Alaric and Niall’s battle. Marta and Rone, the king of the forest Fae, had stopped sparring and were now watching with amusement, the angular warrior Fae looking happier than I had ever seen her as she stood by the older, almost aesthetically thin Rone. He’d never left the castle after the battle with the Fomorian, claiming his kind had spent far too many years alone and disconnected in the forest. He was eager to share what he knew of human witches. I suspected his interest in staying had more to do with Marta than either one of them wanted to admit, but seeing them together made me smile.
Niall, on the other hand, appeared to be enjoying the day far less as he stumbled into view, arms raised to ward off a volley of stones, though I knew him well enough in the short few months I had been Mistress of the Witchling Academy that appearances could be deceiving. As he rallied forward again, he managed to toss a grin to Celia, who cheered him on at the edge of the roped off fighting quadrant.
“You can’t rely on magic to make up for shitty fighting abilities,” Niall announced, and I finally emerged far enough out of the academy to understand the reason for his lament. Alaric stood in the center of three gorgeously colored dragonets, their wings flapping imperiously, their snouts extended from long arched necks, scales glistening in vibrant, shimmering hues. Their grandeur was ruined only slightly by the ridiculous capes the dragonets sported, loosely slung around their slender necks, each imprinted with the words “Niall is a loser,” the message made easily visible as the capes flapped in the stiff breeze.
From behind the barrier, shielded by the gouts of fire dragonets belched, Alaric lobbed an improbable number of stones at Niall, forcing the bigger man to deflect the missiles with his shield as he pressed forward, gaining ground despite the assault.
“You’re just jealous,” crowed Alaric as Niall pressed closer. “The best magic belongs to the high Fae. Who needs to knock people over when you can have magic do it for you?”
I winced, but some lessons couldn’t be learned simply from old books and sour-faced djinn. Some had to be experienced.
Just then Niall straightened and looked beyond Alaric, his face clearing, pure transcendent joy brightening his features. “King Aiden!” he shouted, and of course, the gambit worked.
Alaric turned, delighted to have a royal audience, and Niall struck. With a roar, he raced forward. He burst through the illusion Alaric had crafted, dispersing the magic by sheer brute force, then tackled the young man to the ground. A great cheer went up, and I realized Marta wasn’t the only member of Aiden’s guard watching the fight. The fabled warriors of the Fae didn’t have the same access to magic that the royal family did, but they were building on their minor magic, and they never tired of finding ways to defeat greater magic with strategy and guile. The combination would make them the mightiest opponents in all the realms. And their fighting expertise might be called upon sooner rather than later, I knew.
“I leave you alone for only a few minutes, and I come back to anarchy?”
The warm, rich brogue of my husband’s teasing comments had me turning, my heart doing somersaults as it always seemed to do now when he was around. He looked more tired than I wanted him to, but I knew he came by that fatigue honestly.
“How are they? What’s happened?” I asked in a rush, exhaling with an impatient huff as Aidan lifted me off my feet and hugged me to him.
“Is that all I am to you now? Lord and master of all the realms, striving to ease a new people into their homes?”
I snorted. “Well, you’re my king, my husband, and master of all the realms. But right now it’s that last one I’m the most interested in. Are the Luacra okay?”
Aiden hugged me to him tightly, then set me down again, though his hands remained linked with mine. He gazed at me as if no one else existed in the world…which, I finally understood, was how he’d always looked at me, since the first moment he’d seen me. How had I not noticed that? I’d been so filled with anger, fear, and flat-out annoyance that this big brute of a Fae could barge into my tavern and order me around, I’d been blind to everything else.
But Aiden didn’t make me wait any longer for the information I craved.
“The Luacra are thriving. It’s early days of course, but the sun now reaches the Riven District, while the Fomorian who remain in the Fae realm slowly recover from centuries of darkness. The wife of the guard you asked me about walked in her garden for the first time today and felt the sun upon her skin. They both send their thanks.”
I closed my eyes, unexpectedly affected by the image of the frightening lizard-faced guard smiling in genuine relief. He was not in front of me, so I couldn’t tell his possible futures, but I could imagine them. Hope stirred in my belly, making me unaccountably happy. But Aiden’s work didn’t end with the establishment of the Fomorian in the Fae and monster realms.
“And Lyric?” I asked.
Now Aiden sighed. “He has taken over the keep of the Spire of McGeary Point, next to the ocean. He has pledged his service to me a hundred different times, but he is…broken. The magic it took to stage his last battle drained him far beyond even a Fae’s ability to refill.”
I blinked in genuine dismay. “Seriously? You can't heal him? I can’t heal him?”
Aiden shook his head. “Some magic must be wanted in order to work, especially if you're seeking to accomplish the impossible. Lyric knew that in order to free his people, he had to die. He also knew any queen who should choose to stand with him was also slated for death. Now, he has saved his people, and he refuses to put a queen in danger, so he will wait until the seas take him one stormy night.”
I made a face. “You can’t be serious.”
“It’s his choice,” Aiden tried to reason, but I cut him off.
“Well, his choice sucks. What is with you people and your stubborn resistance to listening to reason? Why aren’t you willing to try anything new?”
Aiden chuckled, gesturing around me. “This is new,” he countered, taking in the sprawling Witchling Academy complex, now overflowing with royal Fae of all levels, lesser Fae from the monste
r realm, and even a cadre of witches. After a seriously deep cleaning to get out the last of the smoke, the White Crane Tavern was open again for business, but no longer solely as a relaxing watering hole and a sometimes refuge for witches on the run. It was now a gateway for learning across the realms, with candidates carefully curated by Marley, the silver fox.
“It’s a start,” I agreed, “and one we need to take advantage of, as the witches of the North American covens are stirring. Magic is getting noticed more by the outside world, and that sort of attention never bodes well for us. Even with the coven of the White Mountains shuttered, and Cassandra under Danae’s thumb, we’re up to our asses in witch problems on their side of the veil.”
Aiden frowned. “Danae knows she can call on us whenever she needs us.”
I arched a brow at him. “Since when did a witch need a Fae to fight her battles? That would be never. She’s not about to break that streak.”
Aiden laughed more heartily, a sound I would never tire of hearing. But he wasn’t the only one with a report to give.
I drew in a deep breath. “So you know that more books of magic have appeared in the academy, whole sections of learning that even Jorgen and Magnus didn’t know existed?”
“I did. It seems much of what we believed wasn’t possible is being turned around and upside down. Good thing we’re flexible.” He squeezed my hands. “And though I’m never happy when you’re gone, I’m glad you can return to your tavern at will, Belle. So long as you always come back.”
I smiled, a small shiver of nerves making me wince. “Well, about that,” I began, not missing the sudden flash of worry across Aiden’s face. But I resolutely pushed on. “There’s no good way to tell you this. I’m as shocked as anyone, but it’s happened, and we’re just going to have to find a way to manage.”
Now I had his full attention. “What is it, Belle?” he asked, his hands tightening on mine.
I bit my lip, suddenly, weirdly, unsure of myself. A state I suspected I’d feel frequently given what I’d finally confirmed this morning, in the newest of magic books that had found their way to my shelves.
“We were lied to, Aiden, flat-out lied to. You, me, Cyril, all of us, and all the generations of Fae who came before. And even though those lies were put there to protect the realm, it doesn’t change the truth.”
“What are you talking about?” he rumbled, and true fear crept into his voice, strong enough that I couldn’t prolong this anymore.
“When I became your queen, it changed things. In ways no one ever wrote down, maybe never knew.”
Aiden’s scowl deepened. “What is it? Are you sick, injured? Is your magic faltering? If it is, I accept that, willingly. You’ve already done so much, more than enough. No matter what follows, I will stand with you. I will protect you and learn with you, and together, we will be strong. I swear it.”
“I know,” I whispered into his rush of words, and now I couldn't help the tears that sprang to my eyes. “But it’s not just us we have to worry about.”
“Then who?” Aiden protested. “Your people, your witches, the Fae, the Fomorians? We will protect them no matter who attacks—”
“We’re going to have a baby,” I blurted, cutting him off. “A child, Aiden. You and me.”
He stopped, momentarily frozen, and stared at me. “That…that cannot be,” he whispered, shaking his head. “The ancient laws…”
I nodded like a broken bobblehead, trying not to sound hysterical. “Were lies to forestall a war between the realms. I mean, I get the reasoning, but…yeah. Apparently, you make a girl your queen and throw some Fomorian magic into the mix, and all sorts of shit goes down.”
“I…” Aiden’s mouth worked, but he couldn’t say anything more for a second. His gaze dropped to my belly, as if the tiny flame growing inside me was already prepared to burst into full fire. “Are you safe? Will you stay safe?”
The question was so unexpected, I burst into a laugh that caught on a sob. Even in this moment, my beautiful Fae king put me first.
“I can’t see the child’s future yet, only ours—but so far…” I gave a half shrug. “So good. But I’ve never done this before. I guess, um, nobody’s done this before, the whole human-Fae co-parenting thing. So, that could be a problem.”
“Not a problem. A miracle. A blessing, a gift,” Aiden assured me, the first spark of transcendent joy lighting his eyes. “Should we tell the others?”
I grimaced and pointed to the far edge of the field. Where before there had only been grass, flowers now bloomed in wild profusion, spilling out onto the field, the mixture of bluebells and Fae bane and every possible varietal in between. “I think we’re going to have to, before they figure it out themselves.”
But still Aiden didn’t move. He stared down at me, dropping my hands only to lift his own to my face, cradling my chin as he tilted it up to capture my gaze with his. “My beautiful witch,” he murmured. “I pledge to you all the light I can bring to you and our child, to anyone you command. I have loved you since the moment I saw you. You have saved my people…and you have saved me. Thank you for standing with me.”
I bit my lip, but there was no way I could stop the tears now spilling over my cheeks, tears that made Aiden seem to glow, blazing with a light that reached out and surrounded me in peace, love—and the gift of power he alone had been able to unlock within me.
“I love you right back, Aiden, so much,” I managed. “Thank you for believing in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. That’s more magic than anyone deserves.”
“Then blessed are we, all three,” he agreed. And with a soft and infinitely gentle smile, he leaned forward to seal the benediction with a kiss.
Thank you so much for reading TAMING THE KING, and all of the Witchling Academy books! If you enjoyed this book and would like to leave a review to help others find it, at either Amazon, Goodreads, or BookBub, I would sincerely appreciate it!
But most of all, thank you for reading—it’s been an absolute pleasure to write Belle’s story, and I look forward to the next adventure for the witches and wizards of Boston!
Until then, please follow me on Goodreads or visit me on Facebook to say hello—and happy reading, wherever your adventures take you! Here’s to finding a world filled with magic. ❤️
About D.D. Chance
D.D. Chance is the pen name of Jenn Stark, an award-winning author of paranormal romance, urban fantasy and contemporary romance. Whether she’s writing as Jenn or D.D., she loves writing, magic and unconditional love. Thank you for taking the adventure with her.
www.ddchance.com
Copyright © 2021 by D.D. Chance
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Cover design by B Rose Designz.
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.
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