Mageborn: An absolutely gripping fantasy novel (The Hollow King Book 1)

by Jessica Thorne

  ‘How much has he forgotten?’ she asked, her throat closing even as she said the words. She couldn’t bear the thought that he might not remember her. That he might have no idea what had happened between them.

  ‘He doesn’t… he hasn’t really talked about it. What happened, Grace? He said you were hurt but…’

  But she wasn’t now. There were bruises but that was all. And Ellyn had no idea how badly she was hurt. But Grace did. Not so much hurt as dead…

  The divine is on him, the captain had said. That was a euphemism for insane, wasn’t it? Was Bastien like Celeste now? Had he lost himself in the pool completely?

  She drew in the deepest breath she could and let it out in a long shaky exhalation. There was only one way to find out.

  Bastien was leaning on the carved rail of the aft deck, his shoulders stooped, his dark gaze fixed on the receding horizon as if he couldn’t bear to look away. He wore a pale blue shirt, the colour of the sky overhead, simple homespun fabric such as the sailors wore. Grace had never seen him wear anything but black before. Blue suited him.

  ‘Bastien?’

  She watched his shoulders tighten and he turned sharply, ready for an attack. She took a step back but then stopped, staring at him.

  He looked the same. The light was gone. He was the man she’d made love to, whose body she had explored, who had brought her such joy.

  And such pain.

  ‘Grace,’ he said. So simple a sound, her name on his lips, and inside her something fluttered desperately. He’d been a god. An actual god. Soaked in magic, more powerful than anything she had ever encountered. He’d worn a crown. The torc had been…

  It was just a torc again, heavy gold, ancient and rose-toned, resting against his collarbones.

  He held out his hand to her. In his palm, she could see the gold coin, the warrant, hanging on the thong which had held Zavi’s sigil.

  ‘What did you do?’ she murmured.

  Bastien looked down at it again and frowned. ‘I thought…’

  ‘Bastien! You had your powers back. You had your freedom. You had everything.’

  He closed his fingers around the coin and turned away, looking back out to sea.

  ‘I didn’t.’ His voice was no more than a whisper. ‘Not… not everything.’

  Forcing herself to move towards him, she stretched out her arm, fingers trembling. He had been a god. There was no other word for it. The Hollow King. She’d seen the crown, felt the power in him, the otherness. She had wanted nothing more than to fall at his feet and worship him. What else would a mageborn do to the god of magic?

  Her hand touched his shoulder. He felt real. He felt warm. Slowly she flattened her fingers and palm, rubbed between his shoulder blades. He stiffened and then relaxed slowly, unwinding, as a soft groan escaped his lips.

  ‘How much did you forget?’

  ‘Some things. Not… not anything important… at least… I mean, if it was important, would I even know now?’ He looked like he was hoping she would laugh, but there was no laughter in her. ‘I remember Celeste, and Miranda… I mean Hanna… I remember Asher. That he was my friend until… until he wasn’t. Maybe he never was. I remember what Celeste did… tried to do. What Hanna… Miranda did… I remember the Deep Dark…’

  He turned and suddenly she was within the sphere of his arms, looking up into his perfect face, gazing into his endless eyes. There was no magic in them now. They didn’t glow and burn. But there were tears.

  ‘I remember you,’ he whispered. ‘You and me.’

  ‘You were a divinity, Bastien. You were…’

  ‘I was lost. You brought me back. It’s as simple as that. I could have transcended, it’s true. But then what? Apotheosis isn’t worth it if you lose what matters.’

  Apotheosis. Trust him to find a big word she didn’t understand.

  ‘Your sister…’

  ‘Is insane. And easily led. And vulnerable. And terribly dangerous. She can’t leave the Temple. The Larelwynns saw to that. The whole thing is a spell to hold her. It should stay that way. I made sure of it.’

  ‘Zavi’s sigil…’

  ‘Is that who made it?’ He gave a brief, joyless laugh. ‘He was a master Atelier.’

  ‘You remember him?’

  ‘I don’t know. There are some things I remember. Important things.’

  He leaned forward and Grace couldn’t move. It wasn’t magic. Not his magic anyway. Nothing held her. Except herself.

  His lips brushed against hers. Soft, enquiring, hopeful.

  ‘Aurelie will rule,’ she said, breaking away, trying to distract him.

  ‘With Asher as her iron fist, I suspect. They’re welcome to each other.’

  ‘And Rathlynn, the kingdom…’

  He closed his eyes, shame making the blood drain from his face. ‘Grace, I… I will find a way, I swear it.’ He fought to find the words, to explain. ‘To… to go back… to… I won’t abandon them. I won’t.’

  Divinities bless him, she believed him. He’d never abandon them, his people, both quotidian and mageborn.

  ‘I know. I’ll be there with you.’ She had to. She could do no less. He kissed her again, lingering this time, and the urge to stop this happening ebbed. But she had to know. ‘Do you think she is pregnant?’

  He frowned, pain flickering through those endless eyes. ‘If she isn’t, she will be soon. She’ll make sure of it. Aurelie is nothing if not thorough. She’ll be a tyrant. But she isn’t Miranda.’

  ‘And the mageborn left behind?’

  ‘She won’t be able to control them. Not as Marius could. Not that he ever did. He wasn’t ever… like that… Grace, we’ll find a way to free them. I swear it. Kurt Parry will help. There will be others. There have to be. I can’t just give up and abandon them. Not just the mageborn. All of them.’ He pressed his forehead against hers, his hands ghosting up her spine. The wind lifted her hair, entwining it with his, red and black. She held his shoulders, her thumbs resting on the torc. ‘But I need you to do this for me. Take the warrant. It’s a protection, a promise. And it is yours. Always.’

  ‘I don’t want it. You don’t have to do that.’

  ‘Yes. I do. Grace…’

  She kissed him. Whatever the future brought, wherever they ended up, she just needed him. His kiss, his touch, just him. Not the warrant. Not control. Him.

  ‘Come back to the cabin, Bastien.’

  He let her lead him below decks, her fingers threaded with his, her hand tugging him onward. She closed the door behind them.

  ‘You don’t have to do this,’ he told her. ‘I’m giving you the warrant because…’

  ‘And I’m not taking it. Not yet. Bastien, listen to me…’

  But he didn’t. He went on, trying to explain instead of hearing her. ‘It’s too great a temptation for me, Grace. That sort of power, the ability to lose myself in it, to be… that thing…’

  ‘You’re not a thing, Bastien. And I… You think I won’t feel tempted? The warrant commands you. If I have it, if I hold it, how do I know… I mean… I could make you… like Aurelie wanted, I could…’

  His eyes went round and his mouth parted. It hadn’t occurred to him, she realised, and her heart gave a jerk. He didn’t believe she was capable of doing that to him.

  ‘It’s not the same, Grace.’

  A flicker of hope joined the flame inside her.

  Bastien closed the space between them in the blink of an eye. His arms encircled her again. His lips found hers, the need and desperation making her groan into his mouth, a soft noise of surrender and need. Her hands buried themselves in his hair, and this time it was his turn to make a noise like that. She pushed at his clothes, felt hers fall away, and suddenly they were skin to skin, unable to stop touching, kissing, caressing. He cupped her breasts, brushing the pads of his thumbs over the tightening nipples and then bent to take each one in his mouth in turn, making her gasp. She wound her legs around him as he lifted her, murmuring her name like a pr
ayer as he carried her to the bunk. He laid her down and worshipped her, this god made flesh.

  He dipped his head between her thighs and she arched her back, stuttering out a cry.

  ‘Stop,’ she told him. ‘Not yet. Not…’

  He pulled back, gazing down at her, his eyes so dark with desire and confusion.

  Swift and strong, she pushed him onto his back and straddled him.

  ‘Tell me you want me,’ she said. ‘That you want this. Please…’

  ‘Is that a command?’ She froze for a moment and then saw the teasing lift of the corner of his lips. The Lord of Thorns was teasing her. He smiled that broad and beautiful smile and glanced down between them. ‘Of course I want you. Can you doubt it?’

  Grace’s answering grin was a surprise even to her. ‘Not for a moment. But I mean it, Bastien. I want you. Freely, completely. I need you. But I won’t… I won’t make you…’

  His hands closed in a firm but gentle grip on her hips, guiding her gently down onto him, filling her, making them both whole at last.

  ‘You can make me do anything, my little Flint. You don’t even have to ask.’

  Epilogue

  The light of the Maegen swirled and glimmered, reflecting back up onto the glass-smooth roof of the cave. From the depths, the darkness stirred, pushing itself upwards, straining for the surface. He had been there, so deep, so close, and in tearing the girl out of its embrace he had opened a way for the Deep Dark. It reached out, towards the life. The life which had been snatched away from it so long ago. So much life. And it was hungry. So hungry. It had hungered for hundreds of years and now it would feed again. It reached out, searching, ravenous. Insane with need.

  In her tower above the Temple, Celeste stirred. She opened her eyes, as dark and endless as her brother’s, and she saw something far beyond the walls that imprisoned her. Light swirled up inside her, and she reached out blindly, her mind aching for what had been lost so many years ago. Slowly, she began to laugh, a soft chuckle at first, which built like a wave, a laugh, a scream, a howl.

  In the palace Aurelie slept in her royal bed, wrapped in silken sheets and cushioned on swan feathers, and whimpered in her sleep, curling in around her belly. Tears stained the pillows where she lay. She reached out across the vast, empty bed but Asher wasn’t there. No one was there.

  In another palace many miles away, perched on another shore of another sea, another queen studied a report from her spies. Her network spread out spider-like across a dozen kingdoms and brought her news of all that happened. She frowned at what she read there and finally crushed the parchment in her aged hands.

  And beside the pool, in a barren valley thick with thorns, another pair of eyes opened, eyes that didn’t know life, eyes that were made of stone, eyes that suddenly spilled gold from their depths.

  ‘He’s coming,’ said a voice which had not spoken in three hundred years. ‘Coming back. At long last.’

  Grace and Bastien must flee from Rathlynn, but who will save the mageborn from Aurelie’s grip? Meanwhile, the Deep Dark hungers… If you can’t wait for the next addictive read in the Hollow King series, sign up here to be the first to know when Nightborn is released.

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  Books by Jessica Thorne

  The Hollow King series

  Mageborn

  The Queen’s Wing series

  The Queen’s Wing

  The Stone’s Heart

  Available in Audio

  The Queen’s Wing series

  The Queen’s Wing (Available in the UK and US)

  The Stone’s Heart (Available in the UK and US)

  A Letter from Jessica

  I want to say a huge thank you for choosing to read Mageborn. If you did enjoy it, and want to keep up to date with all my latest releases, just sign up here. Your email address will never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.

  When Bookouture asked me if I would be interested in writing a fantasy romance series – and a sexy romance no less! – for them, I was so excited. And slightly terrified. I have loved fantasy romance for as long as I can remember. Even if a fantasy book or movie didn’t have a romance element in it, I would find one for myself. Adventure, magic and love just seem to belong together. To get to write this book is a dream come true.

  I hope you loved Mageborn and if you did I would be very grateful if you could write a review. I’d love to hear what you think, and it makes such a difference helping new readers to discover one of my books for the first time.

  I love hearing from my readers – you can get in touch on my Facebook page, through Twitter, Goodreads or my website.

  Thanks,

  Jessica Thorne

  www.rflong.com/jessicathorne

  The Queen’s Wing

  The Queen's Wing Book 1

  Get it here!

  'I was born to fight,’ I used to say. But now I know it isn’t true. I was born to be a pawn in the great game of royal houses, married to someone – anyone – my family deems suitable…

  Bel would do anything to spend her days alongside her best friend and childhood sweetheart Shae – training in the art of Vairian combat, hoping to some day live up to the legacy left by the mother she lost as a child.

  But when a mysterious and deadly attack on the capital lands Bel’s father unexpectedly on the throne, her life is forever changed. In order to secure her father’s new empire, Bel is forced to travel to the distant land of Anthaeus to marry its recently widowed ruler, Conleith.

  For any other young woman the chance to become royalty would be a dream come true, but for Bel, the rigidity of court life is like a prison sentence. And while Conleith is an unexpectedly intriguing – and attractive – puzzle… could she ever love him when it would mean turning her back on her feelings for Shae, her first love and last connection to home?

  Then a brutal assassination attempt nearly takes her life, and Bel learns that there’s more on the line than just her happiness. Is it the same faceless enemy who attacked her homeland and, with dangers around every corner, who in the palace can she trust?

  A heart-stoppingly magical new novel that will keep you turning the pages. Perfect for fans of The Selection, Bella Forrest and Sarah J. Maas.

  Get it here!

  The Stone’s Heart

  The Queen's Wing Book 2

  Get it here!

  Something evil is gathering power in the kingdom. It knows the secrets in your heart, and nobody is safe…

  Petra Kel – young and headstrong – has been named General of the Queen’s Guard. But while Petra’s head may be in rebuilding the war-torn kingdom alongside her childhood friend Queen Belengaria, she left her heart miles away in their homeland, the day she turned her back on the only man she ever loved and fled.

  But then Petra’s past – in the form of Bel’s roguish brother Zander – comes crashing in, just as rumours of dark magic begin to swirl at court. Petra can’t afford to be distracted… but the unfinished business between herself and Zander is like a vice upon her heart.

  When evil takes hold of the kingdom and threatens Bel, Petra is forced to make the impossible choice between love and loyalty. And will the insidious magic of the Stone’s Heart reveal the heart-breaking reason why she left Zander behind all those years ago?

  A gripping and magical read that will captivate you from the very first page. Perfect for fans of The Selection, Bella Forrest and Sarah J. Maas.

  Get it here!

  Acknowledgements

  Many thanks for all the wonderful support from my writing friends, especially the Lady Writers’ Social Club – C.E. Murphy, Sarah Rees Brennan and Susan Connolly – for constant support and endless entertainment. Thanks to the Naughty Kitchen – Rhoda Baxt
er, Kate Johnson, Janet Gover, Alison May, Imogen Howson & Daisy Tate – who saw the beginnings of this world on a writers’ retreat in snowy Shropshire, and to Kate Pearce for years of writerly friendship. Thanks also to Helen Corcoran, a new star in the making, for her keen eye and her helpful comments.

  Thanks to everyone at Bookouture for their trust and faith in me, especially Kathryn and Ellen, and to my agent Sallyanne.

  And of course all my love and gratitude to my fabulous family who put up with so much.

  Published by Bookouture in 2020

  An imprint of Storyfire Ltd.

  Carmelite House

  50 Victoria Embankment

  London EC4Y 0DZ

  www.bookouture.com

  Copyright © Jessica Thorne, 2020

  Jessica Thorne has asserted her right to be identified

  as the author of this work.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publishers.