A Total-E-Bound Publication
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Waters of Fate
ISBN #978-1-906811-77-8
©Copyright Jessica Jarman 2009
Cover Art by Natalie Winters ©Copyright May 2009
Edited by Christine Allen-Riley
Total-E-Bound Publishing
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.
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The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.
Published in 2009 by Total-E-Bound Publishing 1 The Corner, Faldingworth Road
, Spridlington, Market Rasen, Lincolnshire, LN8 2DE, UK.
Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.
The Fey
WATERS OF FATE
Jessica Jarman
Dedication
This one is for my family. Oh, what they have to put up with when I’m focused on a book! Thanks for your support and your love. I don’t know what I’d do without you.
And, of course, my editor Chris. I don’t know what else to say other than thanks for helping me make my books better each and every time.
Prologue
Neiva, Princess of Fey, wandered through the gardens surrounding the royal residence. She didn’t know where her friends had gone. Off flirting with boys, no doubt. She rolled her eyes. Goddess, they were so stupid sometimes. She didn’t understand why anyone would act so silly just to impress boys. And really, did it impress them? If it did, boys were even stupider than girls.
She hummed as she walked. It felt great to be away from lessons and tutors for a while. Sometimes she simply wanted to be alone. That was a rare occurrence. Though Dad said it would only get worse and she should enjoy this ‘carefree time’. Neiva snorted. What did he know? He hadn’t been fourteen in centuries.
A rustling to her left caught her attention and she stopped. The hedges parted to reveal a path. She tilted her head, trying to see where it led. She’d never noticed it before. Curious, she started down the narrow trail. It wound farther and farther away from the formal gardens. A part of Neiva’s mind told her to turn back—her father would be furious if he knew she was in unfamiliar areas without protection—but she continued on. Something was drawing her. She didn’t know what, but she couldn’t sense anything bad or harmful.
The overgrown path opened up to a small glade. In the centre, a pool of water stood surrounded by a rough stone wall. Neiva approached and peered into the water. It was crystal clear. She could see the flat stone lining the bottom. Tentatively, she dipped a finger. The cool liquid began to swirl at her touch.
“Good afternoon, Princess.”
Neiva jolted and spun towards the voice.
“I’m sorry I startled you.”
A young woman stood barely a foot away. How had she approached without Neiva’s notice? Even if she had flashed into the small clearing, Neiva would have felt the disturbance on the air.
“Good afternoon,” she answered. “I don’t know you. How is it you know who I am?”
“Everyone knows the Princess of Fey.”
Neiva felt her cheeks heat, embarrassed at the obvious answer.
“I’m Mara. You look lost, Princess. Is there something I can assist with?”
She squinted slightly as she studied the woman. Why did she have to wander away? Now she was alone, in an unfamiliar place with an unfamiliar person. This was the type of situation her father lectured about constantly. Though the woman appeared harmless.
“I’m not lost,” she insisted. “The pool called to…” She stopped herself from finishing the sentence. People thinking she was crazed was not a good thing.
Mara smiled. “It called to you. Of course. That is the way it often is. Have you looked within?”
Neiva frowned. “At what? It’s just water.”
“Look again, dear one,” Mara encouraged.
Uneasiness caused Neiva’s stomach to clench. “Why? What am I looking for? What is this place?”
Mara laughed and Neiva closed her eyes at the beautiful sound. It travelled on the wind and wound around her, like a living thing. It soothed her, calmed the tightness inside her.
“So distrustful. Wonderful! Your parents have done a fine job. Have you heard of the Waters of Fate?”
“Of course.” Neiva rolled her eyes. Everyone knew about the Waters. “They tell you whether you have a true mate. Sometimes they’ll only show enough for you to know you have a one, and sometimes they’ll actually reveal who it is.” She glanced at the pool. “These are the Waters?”
“They are indeed. Have you looked within?” she repeated.
“All I saw was water.” Neiva was mortified as tears welled up. “I guess I don’t have a true mate in this life.”
“Perhaps you should look again,” Mara suggested. “You only had a moment before.”
Neiva turned and stepped to the pool. Bracing her palms on the rough stones, she leaned forward and peered into the Waters. After a moment, the water darkened and swirled. Soon, it was churning—a small, contained storm—splashing up on the wall, bathing her hands in coolness.
“Keep watching,” Mara murmured.
In the middle of the chaotic water, images began to form. Neiva could make out the forms of a man and woman. They were embracing. But, Goddess, it was so blurred. She leaned farther. The image sharpened. Her heart stuttered as she recognised herself—or rather an older version of herself. She shifted her gaze and her heart stopped altogether.
“It can’t be. He’s my mate?” She straightened and turned to look at Mara. “How? How can it be him? My father will never allow it.”
“Never question Fate, Princess. She has paired the two of you together. You are halves of the same soul. Even the King cannot deny nor change that.”
Neiva looked into the Waters again, where the man and woman still shimmered on the surface. They looked so happy. A warmth blossomed in her stomach and spread through her body.
“How will I tell him? Blessed Lady above, how will I tell Dad?”
Again, Mara’s laugh slid around her, comforting her. “You’ll have no need to tell your mate. He’ll know when the time is right. As for the King, you and your mate will find the right moment to inform him. How fortunate you are, Princess. Not everyone finds their other half in this life. He is a good, strong man.”
Neiva knew that to be true, but her head spun over the revelation. “Maybe it’s a mistake…” Her mouth dropped open.
The woman was gone. The glade was empty, save Neiva. She glanced back down. The Waters were clear once again.
She sighed. One thing was certain. She was telling no one about this. They’d think she was insane. Her head spun as she started down the path to the gardens.
Goddess, she had a true mate…
* * * *
Rhys entered the Great Hall and surveyed the splendour. It was the Princess’s twentieth birthday and a grand ball was planned for the occasion. As second-in-command to the King, he was handling last
minute details while Kaelen spent the day with his wife and daughter in private. All was well and ready for the festivities. Rhys hoped the Princess enjoyed herself. She’d always been a bit shy at social gatherings, seeming to prefer one-on-one conversations. He’d been honoured with many of those conversations and had grown to appreciate his future Queen’s deft mind and sharp wit. In fact, quite often he sought her out for a bit of verbal sparring.
“Hello, Rhys.”
Speaking of Her Highness… He turned around and all reason was lost. The Princess was absolutely stunning. The silver gown clung to curves he was certain weren’t there earlier that day. The skirt flared out and whispered across the floor as she moved closer to him. Her chestnut hair was swept away from her face but left to fall down her back to her waist. Rhys made a fist to squelch the temptation to run his fingers through the curls.
“How do I look?” She twirled slowly. “Dad couldn’t talk. He just stared, and Mom got all teary. I didn’t know if that was good or bad.”
He found his voice, barely. “Good, I’m certain. You look lovely, Princess.”
“Thank you. You will save a dance for me, won’t you?” She batted—actually batted—her eyes at him.
“Of course I will. Though you may not have time. After the young men see you, I’ll not be able to come near.” His stomach clenched. The thought of her being courted unsettled him. And why shouldn’t it? Not only was she a youth, she was Kaelen’s daughter.
“Truly? You really think so? Most of them avoid me.” She let out an unsteady giggle and moved another step closer to him. Her eyes were wide as she gazed up at him.
Rhys nearly laughed. He understood now. She was uncomfortable around boys and nervous about the attention she was certain to receive at the ball. Perhaps she even had a young suitor in mind. She was practicing her flirtations on him.
“Princess, they avoid you because they’re afraid. You’re a beautiful, intelligent, and powerful woman. Every one of them likely fantasises about courting you, but hasn’t worked up the nerve to ask.” He patted her shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.
She stared at him and, after a quick glance around the room, threw her arms around his neck. Rhys struggled to grasp a thought—any thought—as her mouth covered his. He remained motionless. Until her warm, slick tongue slid over his lips. Then, Goddess help him, he simply reacted. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring the hot confines of her mouth. She sighed deep in her throat and pressed her body closer.
Music floated on the air around them. Joy filled Rhys as he wrapped his arms around Neiva. He couldn’t control it. He had to get closer to her, feel every inch of her. Every cell in his body sang as she rubbed against him. The music grew louder, the notes more intense.
He needed to get her to his dwelling, into his bed, needed to be inside her… By the Blessed Lady!
“No!”
It took every ounce of strength he had to push her away.
“What are you playing with, Princess?” His voice shook. Anger mingled with the powerful arousal.
Neiva’s lips trembled and her eyes filled with tears. “W-w-what do you mean?”
“That song is not to be trifled with. Whatever little spell you conjured up to make the Song of Souls sound is dangerous. You do not mess with Fate!” A sick feeling churned in his gut and a cold sweat covered his body from head to toe.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I wove no spell, I swear. The Song sounded because we’re meant, Rhys.” The pleading note in her voice only added to his panic.
“We are not. This is a sick joke. If not of your doing, then of someone else’s.” He jerked around, searching for the culprit.
“Listen to me!” Neiva shouted. “We are meant. I saw it. I saw it in the Waters. On my honour, Rhys, I saw it.”
He went absolutely cold. No, Fate would not be so cruel as to bind him to the King’s daughter. His best friend’s daughter.
Stepping forward, he grasped her shoulders and gave her a hard shake. “Understand this, we are not meant. I have no true mate. That is what I saw in the Waters.”
“But that was before…before my dad saved my mom. He changed everything—”
“No. You are never to touch me again. Do you hear me? Never!”
He cut off any protests by flashing to his residence. With an oath, he slammed his fist into the wall over and over. Blood covered his knuckles, but the pain helped clear his head. Breathing laboured, he turned, pressed his back against the wall and slid down until he was on the floor. Dropping his head forward, he scrubbed his palms over his face.
What in Goddess’ name was he going to do?
Chapter One
Five years later
Either he’d accept her tonight or she gave up.
Neiva strode through the lush, fragrant garden towards the entrance of the Great Hall. Men and women strolled along the curved paths in search of the fresh night air or a bit of privacy.
She paused in the tall, arching entryway and surveyed the large gathering. Rhys was nowhere in sight.
She bit back a sigh of regret and entered. Winding her way through the crowd, she made her way to the platform where the King and Queen sat.
When she was before them, she lowered herself to her knees and bowed her head.
“Stand, Neiva,” the King commanded.
Both stood as she did and came forward to embrace her.
“I wondered what kept you, daughter,” King Kaelen murmured in her hair.
“I lost track of time while in the gardens. I’m sorry if I worried you.”
Chuckling, he released her. “I had no worries, otherwise I would have reached out to you.”
Her mother took her hand. “You look lovely tonight.”
“As do you.” It was true. Her parents radiated happiness. Her father was clothed in his habitual black. Wings of silver opened behind him, framing his form. His long, raven hair flowed over his shoulders, a beautiful contrast to the thin band of gold encircling his head. Her mother wore a long flowing gown of green, accenting her beaming verdant eyes. Her chestnut curls fell to her waist.
“Mom, you are fairly glowing.”
“We have news, Neiva, and I hope it pleases you. We plan to announce it tonight, but want you to know first.” Nervousness wove through her mother’s words.
“If it pleases you, I’m sure it’ll be pleasing to me as well.”
Her father wrapped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. A grin nearly split his face in two. “You will have a brother or sister soon.”
Shock coursed through Neiva. “A child? Truly?”
Her mother’s face flushed and she nodded. “Are you all right with this news?”
“Of course I am! I’m a bit surprised, but thrilled. Are you feeling well? Having any sickness?” She knew her mother had had a difficult pregnancy with her.
“I’m wonderful. No sickness,” she assured. “Only worry that this would bother you. There is such an age difference…”
Neiva chuckled. A twenty-five year age difference between siblings was hardly abnormal for the fey. She reminded herself that her mother was human—human with fey gifts but human nonetheless. This was not normal in the human world.
“I am so pleased with this news. I can see that both of you are.” She wrapped her arms around her parents, creating a warm circle around the life her mother carried. Now aware and concentrating, she could feel the energy flowing from the tiny being in her mother’s womb. Her brow furrowed as she concentrated. Slowly, a smile formed. It was a boy.
“Welcome, my brother,” she whispered in her mind. A burst of energy answered her. Her mother gasped and covered her abdomen with one hand.
Neiva placed her hand over her mother’s and closed her eyes as her father’s larger hand surrounded theirs.
“Such a strong baby,” her mother whispered.
“He is strong in body and mind,” Neiva replied. “He will be very powerful.”
“He?” her fath
er questioned.
“Whoops.” She pulled away and grinned. “I probably wasn’t supposed to let that out, was I?”
“I thought it was a boy,” her mother interjected. “Are you sure?”
“I’m certain. I can feel him. His energy. He’ll be a handful.”
“You connected with him?” her father asked.
Neiva nodded. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw several people lined up to pay their respects to her parents.
“I’ll leave you to your duties. Should I come to your dwelling tomorrow?”
Her mother embraced her. “That’d be great, sweetheart. There’s much to prepare for, seeing as fey children don’t take the normal nine months to make their appearance.”
Neiva chuckled. Even after twenty-six years in the faery realm, her mother still considered human standards as normal.
“I will see you tomorrow then.” She hesitated a moment before asking, “Is Rhys here this eve?”
“Yes, he just arrived.” Her father nodded across the room at his friend and second-in-command. “He was taking care of some things for me. Is something wrong?”
“No, I simply wanted to say hello. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him,” she rushed to assure.
She embraced her parents once more and walked towards where she’d seen Rhys. She was reluctant to make known her plans. She had deliberately closed her mind around her parents with regard to him. She didn’t know how her father would react to the fact that she was mated to his oldest and dearest friend. Especially considering Rhys’ reaction to the whole situation.
Her stomach fluttered as she approached the man in question. Her body responded almost violently when around him. Every cell in her called out to him. And the blasted man refused to admit they were meant.
“Good eve, Rhys,” she greeted and drank in the sight of him.
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