The Cursed Prince: An Urban Fantasy Novel (Fated by Magic) (Volume 1)

by Taylor Fray

  “It took my father, along with his pack of enforcers, to hunt me down. They finally subdued me. Almost killed me. It took the intervention of King Sebastian for me not to be put to death. Instead I was thrown in a prison for three years. They said it was to cure me of the Red Rage, but cure and torture, I couldn’t tell the difference. When they decided I was “cured” enough, I was exiled. To my clan, I’m less than a criminal now. I’m like a rabid dog that should have been put down. But even now, I wonder if all the torture and sorcery really did cure me of the Red Rage, or if it’s just lurking under my skin, waiting for the right time to come out and feed again.” He looked up at her. “This is what the Black Hand believe. They believe that because I am cursed with the Rage, that I can be turned. That one day, I will serve them. And so now I must fight them, but not use my most powerful form. If I do, the risk of losing control again, and of me falling under their control, would be too great. They will go on hunting me, and I them. Until one of us is done. I can never stop fighting them, because I will never forget what they did. The truth is, eventually they will destroy me. Fight as best I can, it is thousands against one.”

  Morgan leaned against the couch as if her legs were giving out. “And that’s why Morgan,” Zak went on. “Even though I wish I could embrace a mate, embrace you and open my heart to you, I have to face the truth. Every time I think that I might feel something like love again, it’s like I’m back in that prison, being tortured by a beauty and a love I know I’m not fit to have; it’s like I’m looking at the love of my life again. And it will only be a matter of time before she dies because of me, because I am not fit to protect her, or you, or anyone. All I can hope for now, is to redeem myself as best I can, with a righteous death in battle.”

  “Don’t say that,” Morgan said. “What you did… that wasn’t the real you. And killing all of them won’t bring your wife back. You’re only hurting yourself.”

  “Hurting myself? I have innocent blood on my hands. If hurting myself could bring them back, I would rip my own heart out, I would gouge my eyes out with my own claws. I would call Great Vulture to feed on my carcass myself.”

  “You can’t think that way…”

  His shoulders slumped. His frenzy seemed to have subsided. “I couldn’t protect my wife. And even as I tried to do good and kill off the Black Hand, I couldn’t protect your sister. Everywhere I go it seems, bodies fall.” Morgan could only stare at him at a loss for words. To think of him tearing people apart. Innocent people. As much as she felt an enormous connection to him, an enormous desire for him, she couldn’t help but look at him differently. A thousand thoughts raced in her mind, a thousand questions. Zak saw the disappointment and fear in her eyes. “I’m sorry…” he whispered, as if he was saying it to Morgan and the world at large. He walked away, toward one of the bedrooms, and seemed like a prisoner in shackles as he did.

  10

  Morgan lay in bed for a long time that night, staring up at the ceiling. Now she understood. She understood why Zak would carry that pain, that guilt with him. She understood why he would be so distant. But really, she thought, was he really responsible? She had personally experienced how that wolf side of her could take over, now that it had been released. So if Zak, upon his wife’s death, was simply overcome with grief, and it turned to… that rage that he spoke of like an illness… was he really responsible?

  Everything she knew about him told her that he would’ve done his absolute best, fought to the very last drop of blood and sweat to keep himself from hurting other people. He would have. He was a good man. Whatever curse he carried from his family it was no different than the curses other families passed down. It was just that in his case, because everything about his life was more extreme, more violent, his curse led to savage deaths. He didn’t flinch away from being stabbed or mauled, but she saw how hurt he was that she seemed disappointed, even frightened by him. She could tell how hurt he was at reliving his memories. His wife had died at the hands of the Black Hand. She could only imagine what that would have been like. She imagined it would have been a death similar to her sister’s. A blood drenched affair.

  She sat up in bed, the silk-like covers draping over her knees, and a nightgown she had found in the closet wrapped around her body. Zak needed to forgive himself. None of it was his fault. He had done his best. He didn’t need anyone’s forgiveness but his own. She slinked out of bed, her feet touching the cool feel of the wooden floors. She began walking carefully through the house.

  She was going to tell him that it would be all right. She needed to comfort him. She believed in justice, had dedicated her career to it. If a man was guilty she wanted to see him punished, she wanted to see the universe balanced out. But she could not bear an innocent person being accused and punished for something they did not do. Even if the person doing the accusing and punishing was themselves. So she walked along the hallway now, her lips a slit of seriousness. She wanted Zak to know that he wasn’t a bad person, that he was not a monster.

  Suddenly a THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP! sound came from downstairs. She almost jumped at how loud the sound was—it was making the door rattle. Someone was banging on the front door like they were about to tear it down.

  “Open up in the name of the Queen, her Majesty Lyra!” a voiced yelled from the other side of the door. Morgan heard the click and swoosh of Zak’s door opening. He threw his shirt on as he rushed through the hallway, briefly glancing at her.

  “Stay here. I’ll see who it is.”

  “They said something about the Queen, I think,” Morgan said back to him. Zak rushed down the stairs with Morgan close behind, disregarding his chivalry.

  He went to open the door but it was flung open by sheer force. A flood of glowing fairies burst in through the door and filled the air of the guesthouse. Morgan could see now who had been banging on the door. It was a fairy, but she was human size. Her limbs were thin but strong—her body was like that of a dancer. She had a shade of red hair Morgan had never seen, crimson verging on pink. And the way she was dressed made her look as if she were a soldier. She had armor on that was made of some kind of polished wood and held a spear in her hand whose tip swirled with blue magic. Her features were exotic with long curved eyes and ears. Behind her were more female fairies, all of them armored just like their leader. This squadron of fairy guards rushed into the house pointing their spears threateningly at Zak. There were six of them, and they surrounded him. Their butterfly-like wings fluttered ever so slightly. Their movements were lent a supernatural grace by these wings.

  Zak raised his arms in a calming gesture. “We haven’t done anything! We’re guests of Hanford, the Keeper!” Zak said. The redheaded fairy seemed to be the leader, the captain, because of a blue shawl she wore over one shoulder, unlike the others. She stood in front of Zak, her spear still pointed at him.

  “Hanford has said nothing of guests and you were spotted in the Queen’s sacred lake, gallivanting about naked and frolicking like animals in lewd unspeakable ways,” the Fairy Captain lectured. One of the small green fairies that had flown into the house now hovered near the Fairy Captain’s ear. The tiny fairy said something in fairy language into the Captains’ ear. “This eye witness claims you two Lycans were making babies, in the sacred lake.”

  “What?!” Morgan exclaimed.

  The tiny green fairy went on speaking fairy language into the Captain’s ear. It sounded like squirrel chatter mixed with wind chimes. “And she says she saw one of the babies…” the Captain said, a little befuddled. “…And that the baby looked at her—wait, what?!” The Captain’s face contorted in confusion. The tiny fairy giggled at her and flew around wildly. “Get out of heeeere!!!” the Captain yelled, and swatted at the fairy like it was a bug. She readjusted her collar and turned to Zak and Morgan. “We still have several credible witnesses, all agreeing that you were swimming naked in the sacred lake, and in lewd fashion.” Several fairies chimed in as they buzzed around the captain. “Not only that, many
Fae folk are saying that two wolves had run by attempting to devour them.”

  Zak shook his head. “This is ridiculous. We didn’t harm anyone.”

  “The Queen will be the judge of that.”

  “I turned into a wolf! But I certainly didn’t try to devour anyone!” Morgan protested. The fairy guards glanced at her, as the Fairy Captain fixed her gaze on her now. “I guess I did nip at some squirrels and a fairy or two—”

  “So you admit to turning into a wolf and attacking our citizens? You’re both under arrest!”

  “What?” Morgan’s brow furrowed with indignation. “We haven’t done anything!”

  “You will stand trial like any other. The Queen has demanded you be brought to her regardless. She was greatly suspicious as to wolf bloods being spotted within her borders. Now you can come willingly, or we will be forced to apprehend you by force.” The six guards pointed their spears at them, their armor jangling like clockwork.

  Morgan could feel herself getting angry. Her newfound strength was beginning to surge through her arms. She could feel the muscles in her neck tense as claws and fangs were beginning to protrude out from her, ready for a fight. Zak’s eyes went wide as he noticed this.

  “Morgan!” He turned to the Captain. “We’re going peacefully. This is all just a big misunderstanding. Hanford will clear it up—I’m sure.”

  “Listen to your mate, wolf blood. He has wisdom beyond his years,” the Fae Captain proclaimed.

  Morgan was shaking with anger. For all the wonders of this Fae world it still matched the human world in many ways. There were always some people out there you just couldn’t reason with.

  “Please,” Zak said, his eyes pleading with Morgan. “Really. The Fae are good people. It’ll all be cleared up.”

  Morgan was vexed, but accepted the situation. Even in the Fae world, going along with the bureaucracy was sometimes the wrong, but smart move. The squad of fairy guards flanked both of them, their spears at the ready, their armor clanging as they escorted them out the door.

  A pair of fairy guards was waiting outside the house. They each stood on either side of a stone disk that looked like an enormous ornate coin, like something that had been carved out of stone by an ancient civilization. Only it was hovering a few feet off the ground, drifting up and down by a few inches, as if a magnetic force were causing it to vibrate. These two fairy guards were dressed slightly different from the others, no armor but instead flowing robes. They were females like the others, but they did not have spears on them. Instead they had short swords held in scabbards. One of them had what Morgan could only describe as a stone tablet. As Zak and Morgan approached the disc, the fairy with the tablet seemed to write something on it with her finger and the disk descended until it touched the ground. The Captain motioned with her spear for Zak to step on.

  “Both of you. Onto the raft,” the Captain ordered. Zak nodded and stepped on first. He looked around for a moment as if he were inspecting it. When nothing had happened he looked back at Morgan and nodded. “It’s alright. Come on, I think it’s just some kind of transport.”

  “Wise again, wolf blood,” the Fae Captain said. “Now get to stepping!”

  Morgan stepped aboard, her feet grinding against the stone surface. She walked toward the center of the disc, which was about the size of a small room. The guard with the tablet scribbled something and the stone disc began levitating once more. Morgan could hear a faint whirring sound as if it was churning the air around it with magic. It lifted off the ground a few feet and then a domed force field covered the disk. The force field looked like translucent glass. As the stone raft began lifting higher into the air Morgan sat down—rising into the sky like that was giving her vertigo. It was like they were in a giant flying cake dish.

  The fairy guards also began taking flight, their wings spreading out and fluttering. Magic fairy dust scintillated around them. Morgan gazed in admiration at their grace—they were beings of magic after all. Their exotic hair colors swirled in the air, and as their wings beat they hoisted their spears on their shoulders and began flying in earnest now. They flew like a flock of birds surrounding the disc transport. It was the most scenic ride any prisoner on earth could imagine. They flew over the Fae kingdom, soaring over forests and hills and valleys beneath them. Morgan could see up ahead what she could only imagine was their destination. “That’s where we’re going, isn’t it?” Morgan asked.

  “Yes. The queen’s castle,” Zak said.

  Morgan’s eyes went wide and she couldn’t help but smile as she saw them getting closer and closer to what children back on earth would dream of when they heard fairytales. It was a castle made of glowing crystal. Purple and blue and white in various places. It had various spires and turrets and corridors and bright yellow windows. The faintest trace of sunlight was beginning to seep out over the horizon and it made the castle glow warmly.

  They began descending toward one particular tower within the castle’s outer walls. They descended down on a wide platform high on the tower. The disc slowed its whirring as it descended closer and closer to the landing spot. The fairies swooped down and landed gingerly on the castle’s stone floor. Two guards were posted at the landing spot, ready to greet the incoming prisoners. The fairy with the tablet operated it once more and the glass-like force field around the stone disk vanished.

  The Fairy Captain greeted the castle guards with a soldierly salute. “We’ve apprehended the two wolf bloods who were said to be committing lewd acts at the sacred lake.”

  Morgan couldn’t help but roll her eyes at that. “We weren’t doing any… lewd acts!” She said in her defense, though she knew it made no difference to the guards. The Fae Captain stomped back and aimed her spear at Morgan.

  “Her Majesty will determine that, wolf blood.”

  Zak raised his hands, gesturing to calm the situation. “All right, all right, we understand.”

  The Captain turned away and her shawl fluttered as she marched toward a doorway into the castle’s tower.

  Zak and Morgan were escorted through the same entrance. Stepping inside, Morgan took in the gleaming architecture of the castle. They walked through two corridors, to what could only be described as a jail, with its iron bars and bleak stone walls. They walked through the jail’s walkway, passing all manner of Fae folk and strange creatures that were locked up. They passed a skittering pair of Fae folk who had toad heads but whose bodies were like plants. They passed a creature who looked like a sloth but who had two big tusks like a walrus and was wearing an enormous gold belt. They passed a long-bearded satyr who reeked of alcohol. The guards opened up a jail cell for the pair and they were shoved in.

  “Is this really necessary? To be locked up like this?” Zak asked.

  “Standard procedure,” the Captain said.

  “Look,” Zak argued. “We’ve cooperated entirely. Fae law can’t be too different than Shifter’s. We demand a witness here. Summon Hanford, the keeper of the Westgate. We’re his guests. We were seeking refuge from Black Hand creatures.”

  The Captain looked back and forth between Zak and Morgan, suspicion in her eyes. “Were not of any threat to you—we’re in a jail.”

  “Very well then,” the Captain said. “I’ll summon Hanford.” Morgan breathed a sigh of relief. “But the Queen will want to see you regardless. Wolf bloods are very rare in these parts, as you might know. And she’ll want to judge for herself what your intentions are.”

  “Thank you,” Zak said. “All that we ask is that Hanford be summoned. I’m glad that you are just. It’s an important quality in a guard.”

  “Captain,” the Captain clarified. “I’m a captain.”

  Zak only nodded in affirmation. The Captain spun around and marched off with her squad of beautiful magic soldiers.

  Morgan and Zak took seats in the stone cell. Morgan was still seething with anger. “I can’t believe we’re arrested. Their legal system here is ridiculous. And aren’t faeries supposed to be, you know
free spirited about ‘frolicking’ and ‘lewd acts.”

  “That lake is sacred apparently. And perhaps it was all an excuse just to interrogate us.” They sat in silence for a long time, each brewing with anger. Zak took a deep breath. “We can’t be in any danger. We’ll explain our situation to the Queen and Hanford will vouch for us, everything will be all cleared up.”

  Morgan sighed. She nodded, accepting that this was the reasonable thing to believe. But then again, she was always suspicious of people in positions of power, especially the absolute kind.

  11

  The jangling of armor filled the corridor and startled Morgan from her half sleep. The red-headed Captain appeared once more, a ring of keys in her hand and her squad of armored guards behind her.

  “The Queen will see you now!” she proclaimed, as if it were a great privilege.

  “What? Where is Hanford?” Zak asked.

  “Don’t you mind, Wolf Blood, I am good to my word. He is waiting at the palace. Now hurry it along!”

  Zak and Morgan stood and walked out of their cell. They were flanked by heavily armored guards who joined the rest of the soldiers. They were different than the Captain’s squad. Their skin seemed to be made of clay. They wore helmets with single large leaves that grew out of them, and white capes with a blue trim over their silver armor. The various prisoners hooted and hollered, yelled and threw curses as the procession made its way through the jail.

  “Drink a beer with the queen for me—” the drunken satyr moaned, “you bloody wankers!”

  Morgan thought that from one world to another, things didn’t change all that much.

  They quickly left the boorish noise of the jail, and began walking through winding crystal corridors. As they walked further and further toward the royal palace, the structures became more elaborate, more royal. When they finally approached the pillars of the palace, the walls were blindingly bright, encrusted with gems and polished like mirrors.