by Sarah Makela
A Total-E-Bound Publication
www.total-e-bound.com
Surrendered
ISBN # 978-1-78184-376-5
©Copyright Sarah Mäkelä 2013
Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright June 2013
Edited by Rebecca Douglas
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.
Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.
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 2013 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.
Warning:
This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Total-e-burning and a sexometer of 1.
This story contains 47 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 7 pages.
Titania’s Court
SURRENDERED
Sarah Mäkelä
A mercenary who skirts light and dark must protect a reclusive Seelie noblewoman, but when they discover a common link, they must surrender…
Niamh McNamara has always been a little different from the rest of the Seelie Court. Their natural mirth and playfulness is something she has to force so she won’t stand out much during the midsummer’s festivities. That becomes nearly impossible when an attempt is made on her life by a violent masked fae. Content with seclusion, she’s unhappy when the queen requests her back at court to meet her new bodyguard.
Doyle Kearney is mercenary who skirts the light and dark courts. Some think he’s Unseelie, while others are sure he’s Seelie. When Queen Titania brings him to protect a sullen noble, he almost refuses—he’s a warrior, not a bodyguard—until he sees Niamh. His body reacts to the golden goddess, but he can’t forget how his noble parents had easily tossed him aside to protect their titles. He questions if she’ll do the same if he surrenders his heart.
Dedication
Thank you to my wonderful husband for all the support you give. I don’t know how I’d make it without you.
Chapter One
Summer’s warm magic glittered in the night air. Nature drank deep of it and flourished with life and growth. The delightful party playing out around Niamh McNamara didn’t interest her one bit. As a member of the light court, she should’ve enjoyed the merry festivities that Midsummer’s Eve brought on, but her sour mood wouldn’t let go of her. Then again, she’d never been like the rest of her people.
Darkness constantly ached within her chest beneath her golden appearance. Before she’d been able to ignore it, but now it wasn’t so easy, especially after overhearing whispers about her from the other members of court. Hiding away had helped, but she couldn’t always stay hidden.
Queen Titania had requested her presence back at court for a while, and when the queen asked, one didn’t say no. The queen held a special interest in seeing Niamh, as a female noble, commit to a worthy relationship. At Niamh’s age, she should’ve at least had one potential suitor, yet she did her best to avoid them and had been fairly successful.
Niamh took another sip from her goblet. The faeries around her sang, laughed and danced, yet she could barely gather the enthusiasm to smile. How cruel life was that she had to watch their happiness while she didn’t share their feelings.
There were men who seemed determined to court her. The more she dissuaded them, the more eagerly they flocked to her. A familiar male elf took her elbow to sweep her off to dance, but she brushed off his hand. “Sorry, I’m not interested in dancing at the moment.”
Another reason why she preferred to stay away from court these days. She hated presumptuousness and what tended to happen next.
His face fell, and confusion creased his brow. The lady next to Niamh gawked at her like she was crazy before grabbing the male’s hand and waltzing away with him. The lady leaned close to him and whispered something, causing them to both break out into laughter.
Niamh bristled. She didn’t want to feel like an outsider amongst her own people.
A happy, albeit drunken, pixie flew by her, nearly colliding with her shoulder. The tiny being apologised in a high-pitched tinkling voice, then it was gone, darting away to join a group of pixies near the mead.
Most of the pixies there had already drunk their share. Their amorous personalities, combined with the summer’s fertility magic, heated the group until their moans of pleasure chimed through the warm breeze. Others nearby reacted to the intimacy, their clothes slipping off in their fervour.
Yet another sign of how nature’s power innately affected the Seelie.
The group she stood with were still chatting merrily amongst themselves, though their attention was beginning to drift to the playful fledgling orgy.
Niamh slipped away into the forest, making sure no one saw her. She needed a break from the laughter and shallow niceties. Her face ached from the plastic smile she wore for the party. Once safely out of view, she leaned against a tree and let out a ragged breath. Her fake smile fell, and she stared into the sky between the leaves. If only she were home, away from the misery of joy she had to force. Warmth and happiness permeated the air around her, but a part buried within her retracted from those emotions, shying away from the silky caress. Most of the time, she wondered if she had something wrong with her. Darkness held solace for her while light made her aware of what she lacked.
The snap of a branch startled her, and she peeked around the tree. No one was there. Thoughts about her inner darkness dissipated. Her shoulders tensed, and she strained her ears to hear more signs of movement. Another twig snapped behind her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.
Before her stood a man in an elaborately decorated mask, which covered most of his face. A dark hood and cape cloaked the rest of him, making it impossible to distinguish any of his features. He was most definitely fae like her—he had that kind of aura. He must’ve hidden his wings beneath his grand cape.
She looked him over with a frown. Why was he here, away from the party? Especially dressed as he was? I left the party behind to rest, not to give someone the opportunity to make my acquaintance in private. She sighed but forced herself to smile.
A scream caught her attention from the party, turning her towards the sound, but the laughter that followed reassured her that everything was still safe.
The foreboding man spun her to face him. He clasped his hands around her throat, and slammed her folded wings back against the tree. Her head bounced against the hard oak. She clawed at his glove-covered hands, trying to get him off her, trying to draw air into her lungs.
He smashed her against the tree again, but his grip slipped slightly.
“What do you want?” she squeaked, gulping in air.
“You. That’s what I wanted.”
She’d never heard this man’s voice before. How could he want her while she couldn’t figure out who he was? He must’ve used glamour so she wouldn’t recognise him.
“You’ve never given me a chance. Now you’ll pay for your decision.”
Then again, s
he’d turned away so many men she didn’t know whether she’d be able to place him, even without the glamour.
Closing her eyes, she focused on her magic to help fend him off, but his tight grasp on her throat kept her from speaking the words needed to cast her spell. Weakness gripped her, and she began to feel more and more lightheaded. Her lungs burned from lack of oxygen.
She dropped one hand, trying to grope for anything to use against him. If she couldn’t use her magic, she’d have to use physical force. Her hand brushed a snapped tree branch dangling from the tree, and she yanked it up then smacked him hard in the face, nearly causing him to lose the mask.
He jerked away from her and brought his hands to his mask, to straighten it.
With him distracted, she sidestepped him and ran, whispering a protection spell. If her wings hadn’t been restricted beneath her cloak, she’d have flown away. Branches slashed her face and she panted from the effort. She cursed herself for having left the party and the safety of the crowd.
Behind her, the man growled in anger and gave chase, but as she neared the edge of the forest, he stopped. With a quick glance over her shoulder, she saw him lingering just within the woods, his hot gaze searing her.
She stumbled as she forced her way deeper into the party. She wanted to be in the midst of people. Gasps erupted around her, and multiple hands pawed at her as her legs collapsed under her.
Niamh lay on the soft grassy ground, trying to take in enough air, but her vision narrowed as if she were staring into a tunnel. She focused on not passing out. The balmy summer air felt suffocating, the life within it oppressive.
Clanking metal signalled the guards nearing. She tried to get up. A hand clamped on her shoulder, helping her into a sitting position.
“Don’t try to rise until my men can fortify the area…” The guard tilted her chin to the side, and his gaze raked over her neck. “Who did this?” He scanned the crowd around them.
“Ma—” She could barely get out any words. “Masked…man.” She doubled over coughing and nearly fell back to the ground, but the court guard kept his hand on her, holding her upright.
A voluptuous golden faerie darted into sight. Those around her dropped to their knees in reverence. Queen Titania took special interest in a few, specific members of her court, and whether by blessing or curse, Niamh happened to be one of the few.
Niamh’s eyelids slid shut, her body weakened, and she passed out.
* * * *
Arms crossed over his chest, Doyle Kearney stood before Titania, Queen of the Seelie Court. She’d hired him before, to assist her during times when she either hadn’t quite been sure about her own guards, or she’d felt his talents were better suited. She hadn’t specified, and he hadn’t pried, especially since she wasn’t the type of woman to one questioned or, worse yet, turned down.
“How may I be of service, Your Highness?” he said. She wasn’t his queen, but when dealing with royalty, formality was safer.
“You will be guarding a lady of my court.” Titania watched him intently as if looking for his reply. He knew better than to think she was considering his opinion. Naturally, she expected him to say yes.
His spine stiffened, but he refrained from giving much of a reaction. It just might be the time he tried his luck and turned her down. He wasn’t a bodyguard. He was a warrior, a mercenary. If Titania had needed his protection, that would’ve been a different matter. She was a queen. She had status. He’d have had to use his skill and training to help her.
He was not a nanny.
She held up a hand to silence his impending refusal. “This lady was nearly killed at the Midsummer’s Eve festivities. Someone wants her dead, but she is a valuable girl. There’s something different about her. Special.” She pursed her lips and snapped her fingers. A pixie flew into the room with a letter, which it handed to Doyle.
“What’s this?” He frowned.
“Your payment for this special assignment, if you choose to accept it, will be a favour from me. This favour will have its boundaries, of course.” She smiled at him pleasantly, knowingly.
A favour from the Seelie Queen was a hefty reward. He knew something like that would come in handy, especially with the questions he had regarding his parentage.
Both of his parents had cast him off to be raised by humans who hadn’t realised his differences until he’d come into his power. But when that had happened, his adoptive parents had begun to fear him.
He’d been on his own until he’d found some Unseelie warriors who’d taken him in and had trained him to fight. After a few years, the group had fallen apart when their tyrant leader was murdered. One of the warriors had done the deed, but no one had dared admit to it.
“You’re quiet, even with such a reward?” Queen Titania’s sharp words broke into his thoughts. Even though the Seelie were the lighter court, they were still not to be messed with—especially not their queen.
“Forgive me, Your Highness. I give thought to all potential employment I undertake. I just—”
“You had thoughts of declining.” She frowned at him, her disappointment marring some of that golden beauty.
“This isn’t quite my kind of work. I’m surprised you would choose me for this.” Even as he spoke, he still wasn’t entirely keen on accepting this proposal.
“I’ve chosen you for a good reason.” The queen snapped her fingers again. This time the door opened behind him.
He kept his gaze on Queen Titania even though he wanted to look. Everything in him that was a warrior demanded him to stay fully aware. He kept his other senses alert, and instead of hearing the heavy footsteps of her guard, the soft swish of fabric and dainty footfalls pattered through the chamber.
He turned his head slightly to see a golden goddess whose beauty rivalled even the queen’s, although he’d never speak those words aloud. Defacing that perfection were horrible bruises upon her pale, delicate throat. Anger boiled in his veins. His jaw tensed, and he averted his gaze before his reaction became apparent.
Moments ago, he’d been determined to turn the job down without a second thought despite the queen’s displeasure, but now…now he wasn’t so sure he could. He couldn’t just sit back and let whoever had tried to take this woman’s life succeed, but he wouldn’t dare allow feelings to play any role in this. The girl was a noble.
Neither sympathy nor any other emotion would distract him from his goal. He was a professional.
Distant pain threatened to well up. Nobles. They couldn’t be trusted. His parents had supposedly been nobility, too proud of their titles and power to consider what would happen to him. Now he skirted both the Seelie and Unseelie Courts. Neither claimed him, but both used his talents. He’d been a by-product of a Seelie mingling with an Unseelie. Very, very few could claim that same hell.
“Doyle Kearney, I’d like you to meet Lady Niamh McNamara. She’ll be under your protection.”
Lady McNamara gasped. “Your Highness, I don’t see how this is necessary.” She turned her gaze to him, suspicion darkening her eyes.
“Do you need a mirror, child?” the queen said. She hadn’t lost her temper. Yet. But he knew Titania didn’t like her will questioned. And both he and Lady McNamara were doing such. The queen glanced at him, cocking an eyebrow and pursing her lips in question.
Doyle knew when to concede. He bowed at the waist. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
Chapter Two
“I do not need a mirror, my Queen. If we could have a word alone, I’d like to share my concerns with you?” Niamh asked.
She wasn’t happy about this man guarding her against her will. She had her own guard that looked after her…when she wasn’t running off on her own for peace and quiet.
What concerned her the most was whom Queen Titania had chosen. Niamh had heard about Doyle Kearney. He was a dark stranger who traversed both the light and dark courts. He offered his services to both, but his loyalty to neither.
“Your concerns can be heard in fro
nt of your new guard.” Queen Titania kept her demeanour pleasant enough, but even Niamh knew not to push her further. She didn’t want to fall out of the queen’s goodwill, no matter how aggravating it was sometimes.
“I’ve heard of your reputation,” she said to Doyle. “How am I supposed to find solace in your protection?”
He glanced at her for a moment then turned his attention back to the queen as if Niamh hadn’t said anything. Maybe he didn’t care—maybe he just wanted Queen Titania’s reward and continued good tidings.
She clenched her hands into fists. If she’d had stronger abilities than casting glamour or protection spells, then she’d have used them on him. Maybe not in front of the queen, but she would’ve at some point…
“He will guard you well because if he doesn’t, he knows I will not be pleased. Comfort yourself with that, my sweet. His reputation is one reason why I chose him. This mercenary has no allegiance other than his assignment, which means he will make sure you’re safe even from our own court. Without knowing who attacked you, we need to take certain precautions. Whoever did this made sure not to leave behind anything we could trace to them.”
Niamh knew the queen’s words were true, but she didn’t have to like them. She curtsied. “Yes, Your Highness. I will be returning to my manor, if that is okay?”
Queen Titania didn’t look particularly happy—a frown wrinkled her forehead. Her gaze swung to Doyle’s. “If there is anything the least bit dangerous or suspicious, I would appreciate your return to court. If it comes to that, my guards will be able to assist you.”
Doyle nodded.
Frustration built within Niamh’s chest at each passing moment. She couldn’t believe this whole situation. Queen Titania had called her there to speak with her, and Niamh had been naïve enough to think it might’ve been to find out how she was feeling. Perhaps even, for the queen to see her condition for herself.