After years of slow-building peace, a new treaty had been signed in Jerar. The alliance between Jerar and Caltoth was forever sealed.
Their seventh year came to a close when a ship arrived, bearing an envelope with a waxen seal. The captain claimed a Crown envoy had paid him well to carry it to the bearer of the Kuadian letters. They’d opened it with trembling hands:
“Queen Priscilla of Jerar and King Horrace of Caltoth grant fugitives Ryiah of Demsh’aa and former Prince Darren pardon from their previous crimes. In accordance with our two nations’ treatise. The two may return with a formal renunciation of the throne.”
Darren wasn’t ready to return. But one look to his wife and he knew he couldn’t refuse.
Not after she’d sacrificed everything for him. Not when she still had people waiting for her in Jerar.
Ryiah deserved to return home.
And so now they stood outside the great doors of the palace throne room, waiting for the guards to summon them forward.
Ryiah cleared her throat, her face pale as she took a shaky breath. Darren had been so lost in his thoughts, he’d almost forgotten she was present.
“I know you think you don’t belong”—she stepped away from the wall and twined her fingers with his—“but you do.”
Ryiah wasn’t a fool. She knew what his silence meant.
There were phantoms roaming these halls; Darren felt their glares on the back of his neck.
Traitor. Villain. The pressure mounted in his lungs.
Ryiah thrust her chin forward as her grip tightened on his hand. She regretted parts of her past too, but Darren could see the challenge in her stance.
Whatever the Crown proclaimed, she would fight for them both.
A guard summoned them forward.
Darren swallowed hard as they entered the room.
There was no turning back.
When the herald declared their names, Darren and Ryiah knelt before the queen of Jerar. They renounced their claim to the throne and that of their heirs. They swore to spend the rest of their lives atoning for their past.
They would always be in the people’s debt.
Priscilla cleared her throat. “You’ve already begun.”
She proceeded to explain everything she’d learned in the past couple of years.
It’d started with Jerar’s trade. A booming surge of product along the King’s Road. New treatments and salves had spread across the nation’s merchants like wildfire, even into Caltoth, Pythus, and the Borea Isles.
After years, Crown advisors had finally traced the treatments’ origin to a small apothecary in Demsh’aa and a plot overflowing with unfamiliar plants. And then they’d found the letters. “I should have known.” Priscilla snorted. “You two never could leave well enough alone.”
She continued, “There’s been a steady decline of fever since we received those Kuadian records. It’s not something any of the rulers can overlook. Even Horrace.”
Hesitation made Darren stiff. “What do you require of us?”
He couldn’t fight in a regiment. Even for peace. If Priscilla had called them back to serve Jerar’s army, he would be forced to walk away.
Freedom wasn’t worth the price of his soul. Not again.
Ryiah cleared her throat and added, “We’ve seen enough blood.”
“If you must know.” The young queen regarded them with an amused curve of her lips. “Enrollment at the Academy has tripled now that study has broadened to factions outside of war. The staff is overwhelmed.”
Ryiah’s quick intake of breath mirrored his own. “But we don’t have our magic—”
“That won’t be a problem, will it, Master Barclae?”
An intimidating man took a step forward in his gilded cloak. His salt-and-pepper beard was now fully gray—the only testament to age. “Most of our instructors are well past the age of their potential’s limits. You don’t need magic, just experience to instruct. And discipline.”
Another man came forward, white teeth gleaming against his dark skin. Darren recognized him as Sir Piers, the knight who’d always pushed them to their limits in physical drills. “You two were prodigies.” His smirk was devious. “It’d be a shame to waste that reputation.”
The words were out of Ryiah’s mouth in a second: “We accept.” A moment later, she shot Darren an apologetic look. But there was no need. He wanted this too.
It was more than he deserved, but he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.
“Good.” Master Barclae looked pleased. “Between the two of you and the Academy’s new headmaster, those first-years will finally be put in their place.”
New headmaster?
Darren followed the man’s gaze. And then he stifled a groan.
Ian was grinning shamelessly in a robe like the one Barclae had worn at the Academy. The sandy-haired mage caught Darren’s eye and winked. “The old trio, together again.”
I celebrated too soon.
“Those first-years have grown too comfortable now that they aren’t competing for an apprenticeship.” Master Barclae gave Darren and Ryiah a stern nod. “Do your best to make them competent.”
It was as if they’d never left.
LATER, Darren found himself standing at the ballroom’s balcony, staring out at the northern valley of Jerar. The sun was setting, casting a hazy orange glow on the forest down below. People still gave him a wide berth; for most of the night, they’d left him alone. He’d been reduced to a passing concern; Priscilla’s revelation about his work in Kuador had taken away most of the court’s hate. That, and eight years of peace.
The Black Mage’s war was a thing of the past. So was its king.
Darren had always wondered what it would be like to be free from the chains of his family’s reign. What it would be like to be a boy instead of a prince. To marry that impossible girl and start a family of his own…
Now he knew.
And he would never give it up.
He’d seen the way Duke Audric’s eyes had gone bright when he introduced his daughter earlier that night. That moment had gone a long way toward warming the ice flooding his veins.
The former commander was more of a father than Lucius had ever been.
That last realization came as a blow; Darren hadn’t thought he’d left anything behind.
Ryiah appeared soundlessly at his side, smiling as her brother spun Eve around the floor.
Amends. That word was a pulsing beat in Darren’s chest. It roared as their daughter spun and twirled around the room, her little legs wobbling under the weight of her dress.
Ryiah sighed against the railing. “Eve’s happy here.”
So was she. There was a glow Ryiah had never had in Kuador. He’d seen it in the reunion with her parents, and Ella and Alex and their four little boys.
Darren looked away from the room to study his wife.
After all these years, she was still as beautiful as the day they’d met. A girl burning so bright he’d been drawn in against his will, even if it’d taken a while to recognize the signs.
Ryiah was still the same maddening girl he’d fallen in love with so many years before. She was still the same girl he didn’t deserve, the same girl who’d challenged him time and time again.
He’d been a Black Mage and a king, but she was the strongest person he knew. People would never sing ballads about the lowborn who’d chosen exile with a traitor over a hero’s title back home, but Darren knew who Ryiah really was. He knew what she’d really done.
She was reckless.
She was brave.
She was incredible.
And she’d saved him from himself.
Darren would never deserve Ryiah; he never had.
“That day we met,” he muttered, “I should have asked your name.”
“My name?” She scrunched her face as she laughed. “I believe your glare was enough.”
“When we get to the Academy, I’m going to try again.” One hand found her waist as Darren tilt
ed her chin and pulled her close. “I’m going to get it right.”
Ryiah grinned. “Well, if we are going back to the start, I’m going to knee you in the groin for that day that you—”
He cut her off with a kiss.
As soon as his mouth found hers, he was back.
Darren was a prince teaching a pretty first-year how to fight, a boy in the desert apologizing to a girl, a jealous apprentice lashing out any way that he could…
And then he was following her up the stairs, kissing her because he couldn’t get her out of his head. Because he couldn’t breathe. Because he’d fallen in love and he hadn’t even known.
Then he was choosing Jerar, telling himself to walk away. Losing the girl and pretending not to care.
He was screaming her name in a burning forest, running as fast as he could.
And then he was opening a letter, reading Emperor Liang’s promise, and storming a feast.
He was watching her stroll through an arena, ready to duel.
Holding her the day she fell apart, refusing to leave her side.
He was marrying that girl, dancing with her in the forest, and then, after everything that followed, saving her life.
Saving her because that reckless, beautiful girl was trying to save him, because he loved her, because he knew only one of them deserved to live.
He was swimming in darkness, and she was pleading for him to fight.
He was dropping the knife… he was choosing to live. Choosing amends.
And now he was kissing his wife, here, as their daughter danced in the crowd.
Ryiah had become everything, and she hadn’t even tried.
Darren gripped her waist harder, kissing her as flames fanned his heart and his lungs and his mind.
He would spend the rest of his life fighting to be the man she deserved. As a father and a husband, as a boy to the girl.
He’d love her endlessly.
“I’ll love you endlessly,” he whispered.
And then he’d do it again.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Publishing a book is like raising a child; it takes a village. Here are the people who helped me raise what I fondly refer to as “the preciousssss.”
First of all, MY READERS. Seriously all of the fan art, messages, reviews, and every single status update (yes, y’all know I read more than my fair share on Goodreads) make me proud to be an author. The bookish reader-reviewer company helped launch my books, and y’all are the reason I can now write full-time (SQUEEEE).
COURTNEY MORALES. Because the second I told you I wrote a book, you asked for it. And you read it the very next day (in all it’s yucky, terrible first draft form). And you kept cheering me on every step of the way.
BOTH FAMILIES (new and old). For all of your support and the usual family stuff. Special shout-out to my adorable niece, STEFANIE, who let me present at her school, and my mother-in-law, SUSIE, for cheering me on and not calling me crazy. Oh, and I suppose I should add the HUSBAND, who literally has put up with me through everything for years and never once told me to go back to a regular job or stop talking his ear off about my characters.
ROTNA SIMMONS. I know Jan said you were the evil one and I was the angel, but we both know it’s the other way around. When I didn’t know what to do with my life, you held my hand and told me to follow my dreams. Even though those dreams were crazy. Even though those dreams were mad. Thank you for being my rock and sounding board and listening to me complain all these years.
All of my LOVELY AUTHOR FRIENDS, thank you for your support. I have the best coworkers, hands down.
EDITORS (Hot Tree Editing) and my amazing COVER ARTIST (Milo) who dealt with all my nit-picky details.
Lastly, huge thank you to my PROOFERS of this new edition for taking time out of their busy lives to spot all the typos and whatnot I missed for all the books in this boxed set. All of your lovely messages and meticulous notes helped make this edition what it now is, and I so appreciate your selfless act to help me!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
RACHEL E. CARTER is the USA Today bestselling author of The Black Mage, a YA fantasy series about magic, love, and war -with future projects to come. She hoards coffee and has a weakness for villains and Mr. Darcy love interests.
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ALSO BY RACHEL E. CARTER
The Black Mage series
Non-Heir
First Year
Apprentice
Candidate
Last Stand
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Contents
Map of Jerar & Surrounding Kingdoms
First Year (Book 1)
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
Apprentice (Book 2)
Year One of the Apprenticeship
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Year Two of the Apprenticeship
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Year Three of the Apprenticeship
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Year Four of the Apprenticeship
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Candidate (Book 3)
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
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Last Stand (Book 4)
<
br /> 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
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Rachel E. Carter
The Black Mage: Complete Series Page 115