The Fae Lord's Lady

by Lisa Kumar

  The Fae Lord’s Lady

  Lisa Kumar

  Contents

  Untitled

  Untitled

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  About the Author

  Untitled

  The Fae Lord’s Lady

  by Lisa Kumar

  Published by Clean Reads

  www.cleanreads.com

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  * * *

  THE FAE LORD’S LADY

  Copyright © 2016 LISA KUMAR

  ISBN 978-1-62135-490-1

  Cover Art Designed by AM DESIGN STUDIO

  A huge thanks to my husband, our boys, and my mom for their love and support. Brenda and Kary, you two are my writing sisters.

  1

  Natalie Danvers sighed, scanning the darkening sky. It had been a perfectly horrible day so far, and now with the dark clouds swiftly taking over the sky, the evening promised to be little better. She quickened her pace while a deep rumble from the sky sent a wave of prickles over her skin. The clouds looked like they could open up and rain down on her at any moment.

  A few people hurried by, trying to beat the storm. Otherwise, an eerie quietness cloaked the street and sidewalk. A frisson of unease swept over her, and she nearly faltered to a stop, but she shrugged the strange feeling off and continued.

  The tenseness gripping her had to be due to losing one of her elderly clients to suicide. Poor Henry hadn’t been able to shake off the grief that’d consumed him at his wife’s passing. Though she and her colleagues had tried all the therapies and interventions they could think of, nothing seemed to help him for long. Even though she knew better than to become too attached to her cases, the little old man had snuck into some corner of her affections. The news of his death had dealt her a blow that would stick with her for a while.

  Running a hand over her arm, she shivered. Positive thoughts. Positive thoughts. The weekend was here, and she needed to relax. She was wound up tighter than a ball of string.

  Overhead, lightning streaked across the sky. Natalie frowned as the first raindrops splattered against her face. Great, getting home before becoming soaked seemed a moot point now. She definitely should’ve left work earlier.

  Pausing on the sidewalk, she rifled through her tote for an umbrella. As frustration mounted, she blew out a calming breath. Her search ended in disappointment, much like everything else in her life.

  She glared at the clouds and quickened her pace, ignoring the drizzle dampening her button-down shirt and pencil skirt. Everything was just so blah.

  Yes.

  That was the word for it.

  Blah.

  She had a few lackluster friends and a boyfriend she wasn’t madly crazy about. Devin was a great guy, and though she tried to make herself love him romantically, he didn’t stir her blood. She seemed to send his into a tizzy, though, so she knew she either had to cut him free or give her all to their relationship.

  Further their relationship. Her stomach turned sour at the thought, even as remorse hit her hard. Why couldn’t she get into him? He was the ideal guy on paper — he was dependable and had a fantastic job as an accountant for a big firm. She even found his appearance above average. So what was wrong with her? There seemed to be no true fault with him other than he wasn’t… Wasn’t what? She couldn’t even answer that, and that was the insane thing — wanting something she couldn’t even pin down.

  No. She balled her hands. Don’t do this. She wasn’t going to hold out for a fantasy that didn’t exist — comparing every man to a vague dream and finding them wanting.

  For heaven’s sake, Devin loved to spend time with her and make touching romantic gestures that would be sweet if she weren’t forever trying to avoid them.

  Again, he was so perfect…just not for her, apparently.

  She loved him — she really did. It was cliché, but she wasn’t in love with him. Try as she might, she couldn’t get the notion out of her mind that he was more like a brother than a potential spouse and lover.

  Which reminded her — she needed to avoid him this weekend. If he popped the question as she dreaded he might, she’d have to say no. Right now, she didn’t have the mental energy to deal with that mess without hurting either of them emotionally. All she wanted was sleep. And some takeout and her TV.

  Was that too much to ask for?

  Yeah, probably. Something, or someone, was sure to disrupt her quiet time — a needy friend, her wonderfully perfect boyfriend, or even her guilty thoughts.

  She ran her fingers through her now limp brown tresses. This was certainly not how she’d wanted her weekend to start. But, really, what had she been hoping for this Friday evening?

  Fame and fortune? A snort escaped her lips. Good thing they weren’t her forte, because she’d never achieve them by working at a human services agency. In fact, the only jackpot she was apt to hit was the one for cruddy weather. It was just her luck that the least attractive option of the three seemed to be her chosen companion.

  Glancing up, she froze. What in the… Neon purple lightning streaked through the sky, replacing the white bolts of a few minutes ago. Fear and an odd sense of inevitability mingled in her stomach. Something about the fascinating yet frightening sight kept her rooted in place. Should she be glad the lightning seemed contained to the skies, flashing from cloud to cloud, or should she run, screaming?

  Finally, her stupor evaporated, and urgency bit into her. She needed to either seek shelter or take a chance running home. Natalie gave an experimental wiggle of her sore toes. Her high-heeled pumps weren’t practical for a sprint home, but…

  Another flash of purple light, this one followed by an ominous rumble, made her jump. What she should be worrying about wasn’t her shoes but her life. She could kick her pumps off if need be.

  As she gazed frantically around for a shop she could slip into, or at least an overhang that would offer some protection, she nearly slumped in relief when she saw it. A small Italian grocery, with bright inviting lights, was just ahead on her left.

  She quickly checked for traffic before stepping off the curb. The ground felt marshy and thick, as if it were something that had to be waded through. The analogy made her shiver. Lifting up her foot, she saw nothing on the bottom of her shoe.

  But all too soon, the real problem made itself known. While there was nothing stuck to her shoes, there was also nothing under her feet, except for blackness.

  Her body quaked, and her mind whirred as she fought for a reasonable explanation. She came up empty-handed.

  The darkness wasn’t the black of a tarred road but the emptiness of nothing. She gulped. Surely, it was just a trick of the light that’d been shining down upon her. But the area where the streetlight should’ve been located stood empty.

  Around her, only blackness reigned. Her heart pounded in her ears so much that she couldn’t hear the thunder anymore. Or had the freaky
storm finally moved away? She couldn’t tell. A thick fog now enveloped her, veiling the sky from sight.

  Afraid to move a step, she ran a shaking hand over her face. Was she losing her mind? Had the stress of her job finally cracked her like a nut?

  Something caught her notice, and Natalie squinted desperately. Through the fog, was that a gleam way off in the distance? The hazy violet glow seemed to wink, calling to her. She waded through the morass, which she still felt but couldn’t see, toward that beckoning light.

  With every agonizingly slow step, her hope collapsed a little further. The light appeared no closer. Was she even really moving?

  Warm tears slid down her cheeks, but she hardly registered them. All she knew was she needed to get out of here, wherever here was, and into the welcoming glow.

  Suddenly, a black-and-purple light appeared from nowhere and skidded toward her. Awe and fright warred, but when she saw the light float nearer, amazement won out. It was certainly not a streetlamp but a glowing mass of purple sparks set against the black backdrop. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice screamed for her to run. She ignored it until the ball of sparkling energy came even closer. Adrenaline shot through her limbs as self-preservation took over again.

  But her legs wouldn’t budge, no matter how she moved them. Keeping a fearful eye on the light, she reached down and pulled at her immobile limbs. Her hands went right through whatever was holding her, and she felt the hose she had put on that morning smooth against her fingers.

  When her increasingly hysterical attempts yielded no results, she finally lurched up in defeat. The harsh rattle of her breath filled her ears. A wave of dizziness crashed over her, and she had to fight passing out.

  The web of sparks, so close she could reach out and touch it, flickered before her. It was tantalizing, mesmerizing. Her fear receded as her hand rose of its own volition and touched the glowing ball. She gasped as a sizzling tremor shot through her. Amazingly, it didn’t hurt. In fact, it was almost energizing.

  The mass of sparks expanded and seemed to pulse at her touch, as if it had a will of its own. As she flexed her fingers through the nebulous ball, a strangely pleasurable electric-like feeling streaked up and down her arm. Soon, her whole body quivered from the sensation.

  Her ankles were released, and with an invisible push, something thrust her forward into the waiting mass of black and purple. With that sudden force, she fell headfirst into the light, and the sensation of freefalling overtook her.

  Natalie dove headfirst into nothing. Her stomach heaved at the sensation. She swallowed, taking in a breath that sounded like a cross between a gulp and a sob. I’m going to die. I’m going to die.

  Just when she thought her stomach would come up her throat, there was a pinprick of light somewhere far below. Her body had now righted itself so it lay on a horizontal plane. Still, she could see that little circle of light expanding, rushing toward her.

  She screwed her eyes shut right before she crashed into the opening vortex and waited for the pain to come. None did. There was no harsh impact with the ground or crunching of broken bone. Slowly, her braced body relaxed. I…I survived.

  Then reality hit her. Survived what? And to where?

  A horrible surety filled her. There was a satiny smooth fabric under her fingers. Whatever, or whomever, she was lying on was firm. A cool breeze wafted across the soles of her feet, and she dimly realized she’d lost her shoes.

  Now all that remained for her to do was to open her eyes. Her breath froze as terror flowed. But she needed to see what awaited her.

  Never one to let her fears rule her, she worked up the nerve to do a full optical assault on her surroundings, when a throat cleared and a voice spoke.

  "And where did you come from, my pretty little bird?"

  She started. Was that curiously accented voice talking to her, or was she hallucinating? No one had ever called her a bird before. Cracking open a wary eye, she gazed up at the face looming over hers. She fell all over again, spiraling down into an unknown abyss.

  It would’ve been a sinfully handsome face but for the fact that it didn’t look exactly human. Sure, the eyes, nose, and mouth were there and in the right proportion, as was the general shape of the face. But the eyes glinted with an abnormal light — a purple iridescent light — under strongly arched brows.

  She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him and didn’t even try to get a look at her surroundings. In the back of her mind, she knew she should be catapulting herself out of his lap. He could be anyone or anything — a criminal, a baker, or a runaway Renaissance Fair goer. But his appearance caused all those concerns to lie dormant under her intense fascination, so she continued her study of him.

  Brown hair that should’ve been normal wasn’t. It held too many varying shades of red and gold, running the spectrum back and forth between the two. He should’ve looked like a poster boy for hair color gone bad, but he didn’t. A gentle touch painted each strand with those varying hues, subtly morphing from one shade into the other. Somehow she knew that no bottle had produced that crackling, yet stunning color.

  Out of his long hair peeked something that also gave her pause. His ears were pointed. She blinked, making sure her vision wasn’t going as crazy as she apparently was. Huh, still pointed. She blinked again. Yep, definitely pointed.

  With that realization, some of her enthrallment faded. She’d fallen through some kind of wormhole, and now the only thing she could do was to stare in wonderment at him?

  The most disturbing fact was that he watched her with the same fascination she’d displayed toward him. Unlike hers, his didn’t seem to abate in the slightest. Hadn’t he ever seen a woman before? But then, she had never before seen the likes of him. Lying across him probably wasn’t the smartest idea.

  Still, her body refused to obey any commands to move. Was it the shock of the whole evening, or was something else stopping her efforts?

  "You’re human, little bird."

  Her mouth fell open before she snapped it closed. She’d been expecting a threat or demand, not an observation. Just who and what was he?

  He smiled, the grin slipping across his face like a ray of light. "We have legends about round-eared humans."

  She looked at him blankly, his randomness catching her off guard. "Huh?" She’d just literally fallen into his lap, and he was telling her they had legends of humans?

  "I believe you flew too far and are nowhere near your home now. We shall provide our little bird with shelter until she knows where her nest lies."

  Bemusement trickled through her. He was taking the bird analogy a bit far, and his wording struck her as strange. To whom did "we" refer?

  She sucked in a deep breath, and the questions forming on her lips died. He was staring a little too intently at where her hair hid her ears before he lifted his arm. Time slowed to a crawl as she tracked the movement of his hand. At the first caress, she closed her eyes. Even with her lids closed, she swore she could still see him sweep the strands back from her face. Sight and touch further combined as he gently traced her right ear, leaving a burning wake of pleasurable tingles. Or was it her left one? Her brain was turning to goo.

  As she shifted slightly, the realization she was in his lap — a lap she didn’t know and couldn’t quite reconcile as being real — suddenly hit her with the force of a shovel. And never mind the lightly tanned hand touching one of her ears as if it were a novelty. All this propelled her into motion, and her sluggish muscles finally responded. With an ungraceful roll, she tumbled off his lap and onto the blue, grassy ground. Thankfully, he didn’t move to either help or restrain her.

  What, wait? Blue, grassy ground? Her fingers froze on the soft blades.

  Oh, dear Heavens. It was a shocking bright blue.

  Once she scooted a foot or two away from the male, her gaze ghosted from the freaky grass to him. He stood above her now as she crouched on the ground. Bewildered fright ran riot. She couldn’t have moved any more, even if wild ho
unds had been chasing her. Her numb body felt heavy.

  Before she fully realized it, he extended a hand. "Come."

  "Come?" she echoed. Something was odd — well, odder than it’d previously been, and that was saying something — but she couldn’t quite place a finger on it. She glanced from his hand to his face and then back to his hand. Clarity struck. This moment seemed familiar, as if she’d lived it before. How crazy was that?

  Without her consciously deciding to, her hand sought out his.

  "To my home, to my city. You have three weeks, after all."

  Her reaching hand halted. "Three weeks?"

  Grasping her, he pulled her up, not answering. Her hand still in his, she trailed behind him in a stupor. When she’d all but given up on him responding, he spoke. "Three weeks to decide where your dreams rest. If they don’t lie here with me, you will go back to your world with no remembrance of this one or the people in it."

  She stumbled at his words, her mind hazing over like a foggy mirror. Blessed blackness swamped over her, and down she spiraled again.

  * * *

  * * *

  Lorh caught her before she hit the ground. Cradling her, he gently slid down with her to the grass. Her deep, regular breaths assured him she’d merely fainted from overstimulation. The journey here would surely do that, not to mention being faced with the realization she was in a foreign land. Her pale face called to his soul. She was here, finally here.

  But now wasn’t the time to relax his vigilance. If someone happened upon them before he could apply the glamour, all could be lost.

  He slipped his arms from around her, and settled her upper body more securely in his lap. Taking a small knife from its sheath at his waist, he held it with a steady hand that belied the turmoil roiling through his body.

  Lorh winced as the blade sliced a small, thin line into the fleshy part of his palm. Blood charms were powerful and something not to be fooled with, but he had no choice right now. His glamour had to be strong enough that even his most magically talented citizens couldn’t see through it.