The Fae Queen's Warriors

by Tara West

  Table of Contents

  The Fae Queen’s Warriors | Dragon Defenders Book One | A Reverse-Harem Fantasy Romance | Tara West

  Dedications

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Academy for Misfit Witches

  The Fae Queen’s Warriors

  Dragon Defenders Book One

  A Reverse-Harem Fantasy Romance

  Tara West

  Copyright © 2020 by Tara West

  Published by Shifting Sands Publishing

  First edition published May, 2020

  All rights reserved.

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

  Artwork by Rebecca Frank.

  Edited by Theo Fenraven.

  The king wants me dead. He told me as much when he wrapped his hands around my throat on our wedding night. My one chance of survival, and dethroning the madman who is determined to murder all citizens of Fae blood, rests in the hands of the Dragon Defenders, fearless rebel soldiers who serve no ruler while guarding the country against menacing sea serpents. But first they must swear an oath to me. The fate of humanity depends on it.

  Dedications

  To Theo, God of Grammar, thanks for whipping my book into shape. What would I do without you?

  To Deb, for no other reason than being amazing.

  To Pamela, for making my manuscript so much better with your smart suggestions.

  To Ginelle, Laura, and Sheri, for always being there for me and finding my oopsies.

  Thanks to Mae for your awesome blurb doctoring.

  And thanks to Cary for your honest feedback.

  To Hal, for believing in me.

  Chapter One

  KYRIA WASN’T AFRAID of joining her brother in the afterlife or even the pain of her bones grinding to dust between the dragon’s teeth. What she feared most was failing the child. Would the risk she took, exposing her Fae blood to save the slave girl, be all for naught?

  Banging a wooden stick on her crude shield—a tin lid she’d grabbed off a nearby trashcan—she slowly circled the dragon, a primitive beast with fins for legs and gills slanting down its blue neck. A malodorous odor made her want to vomit. She cast a surreptitious glance at the midday sun. The dragon wouldn’t last long. Its scales cracked like old parchment. The shade cast by the walls framing the dusty alleyway, where she’d cornered the dragon, offered little respite from the heat.

  “Come at me, Fanfir,” she taunted, referring to the creature as the most menacing of all the dragons. “I make a more filling meal than a child.”

  She ducked as the dragon blew out a stream of fire, then rolled away, jumping to her feet. When it spun around, nearly knocking the slave back with its long, barbed tail, she motioned to the girl to run. The dark-skinned child limped away on an injured leg, blood dripping down the side of her grimy face, leaving the lifeless body of her master behind, the blood from the woman’s severed head oozing into the dirt.

  A crowd of spectators gathered behind Kyria, gasping and screaming, though no one dared come too close. Cowards, all of them. Her brave brother had sacrificed his life for those worthless fools?

  Kyria darted to and fro while the clumsy beast tried to catch her, its awkward fins kicking up dust. She didn’t have a reliable weapon, but she had time to wear the beast down until it expired, rotting in the sun like a pile of fishmonger’s scraps. When the dragon’s long neck swayed like a cobra in a trance, she slowly let down her guard, waiting for the leviathan to fall. A foolish mistake that could’ve been fatal if not for her Fae-touched reflexes.

  The beast reared back, the flaps around its long, pointy head expanding like a parasol, and spit a wad of venom. She barely escaped the acid, then raced under its large fin when it tried to crush her. She was pinned against the wall that shielded her temple, the same one she’d jumped off when she’d heard the child’s screams. She could easily scale back up, though it was two stories high. But if she climbed it, she’d expose her Fae roots; no mortal could ascend the slick stones without a ladder. But if she did nothing, she’d become a dragon’s snack.

  The beast spun around, its emerald eyes glowing, and hovered over her with a deep, sinister chuckle.

  Swallowing bile, she bid her worldly life goodbye and sent a silent prayer to her brother in hopes he’d be waiting for her on the other side of the veil. Her only regret was that she wouldn’t get to see Alexi’s brothers-in-arms once more: Titus, Quin, and Theron, the daring and handsome trio who’d treated her like a sister, though she’d longed for more.

  The dragon reared up to strike, and a loud horn sounded, followed by the rustle of feet and the swoosh of javelins flying through the air. The dragon lurched and roared, struck in the neck and back. When the monster turned to face its attackers, Kyria looked up at the sound of a familiar whistle.

  Jade threw a rope ladder over the wall and frantically tied the ends to the turrets. “Hurry up, you damn fool!”

  She launched herself up the ladder, careful not to climb too quickly at first but then moving like a spider up a thread when Jade let out a hysterical scream. She reached the top of the wall as the dragon fell, the ground heaving beneath it, and Kyria fell into Jade’s arms. They tumbled to the hard roof with a thud, and pain shot up her side.

  Gasping, she blinked at her friend, noting how flushed she was—almost the color of her strawberry-blonde hair.

  Jade hugged her tightly, sobbing into her hair. “I thought I’d lost you.”

  Kyria returned her best friend’s hug. “The luck of the goddess was on my side.”

  “The luck of the idiots is more like it,” Jade grumbled, planting a big, sloppy kiss on Kyria’s mouth.

  Jade was right. Never before had she taken such risks. If the king suspected she had Fae blood, he’d execute her entire family.

  Kyria kissed Jade back, tasting the remnants of spiced wine, not minding that Jade had been drinking before dinner. She pulled Jade to her feet. “It’s not safe here. The wall might have been compromised.”

  She scanned the wide, sand-colored bricks below for damage. Luckily the bulk of the dragon had hit the ground. Only a portion of its long, scaly neck was pressed against the wall, and she saw no visible cracks or dents. Her jaw dropped when she caught sight of two translucent membranes resembling large hummingbird wings hanging from its back. The water monster had wings? How could that be? She thought the dragon had escaped its captors at the coliseum, but if this leviathan had flown from the sea, were there more monsters like it? Would the rebel Dragon Defenders save them, or would their city fall to the beasts?

  “Jade, are you seeing what I’m seeing?” She pointed to the creature.

  Jade peered over the wall. “Great goddess, save us.” The knights who’d swarmed the dr
agon looked up at them with scowls, waving them back.

  “Thank you!” Kyria called.

  “Clear the area!” a guard commanded.

  “Hmph,” Kyria grumbled, pulling back. “They must not know who my brother was.”

  “I think they’ve got bigger problems,” Jade whispered, clutching her gut and looking like she was about to vomit.

  “They don’t give a damn who your brother was, and neither do I!” a familiar voice shrieked.

  Cringing, Kyria faced the one creature she loathed almost as much as dragons—her temple’s high priestess and her daily source of misery, Melandris.

  The matronly woman stalked toward her, the fine silk of her flowing robe swirling around her feet. “What in ten hells’ name were you thinking?” The lines framing her eyes tightened, made more pronounced by the thick eyeliner and paints she wore. Some days Kyria thought Melandris’s face resembled an artist’s smeared palette.

  Kyria refused to be intimidated by the woman who was as tall as she was, but only because of her heels. “It was about to kill a child.”

  “A slave child!” Melandris threw up her hands.

  “A child nonetheless.”

  “Who isn’t worth a fraction of your bride price. Do you know how much money you could’ve cost me?” Melandris waved a finger in her face. “And your parents? For I’d make them pay me back every last coin for your stupidity.”

  She opened her mouth to issue a retort, but Jade elbowed her in the ribs, and she hung her head. “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “Your foolish bravery was for nothing.” She snorted, tossing a long, silvery braid over her shoulder. “The child is to be executed.”

  “What?” Kyria’s hand flew to her throat as panic numbed her brain. “Why?”

  A slight smile tugged at the corners of the high priestess’s mouth. “For failing to protect her master.”

  “What was she to do?” White, hot rage shot through her. “She can’t be older than ten.”

  “She should have given her life to the dragon,” Melandris said haughtily, “giving her master a chance to escape.”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “Is it? What’s ridiculous is a priestess of Kyan risking her life for a slave. You will pay for your temerity. I want every chamber pot in this temple scrubbed until it gleams.”

  Bile rose in Kyria’s throat. “Disgusting!”

  The matron arched a thin brow. “Shall I have you scrub the guards’ shit pails as well?”

  Jade pinched Kyria’s arm, and she said, “No, Your Grace.” Angry at being forcing to cower, she glared at her nemesis from beneath her lashes.

  “Good.” A serpentine gleam flashed in Melandris’s eyes. “See that it’s done before the banquet tomorrow night, where you will be presented to the lesser nobility with the other zetas.”

  “A zeta!” Kyria shook with rage. “But I’m an alpha. You can’t strip me of my rank.”

  “I just did.” A wicked grin cracked the lines around her mouth. “And I will demote you to omega if you keep giving me lip.”

  Kyria gritted her teeth against the half dozen insults forming on her tongue.

  Jade tightened her hold on her elbow, grinding her nails into her skin. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Think of your parents.”

  Melandris flashed a mocking smile. “Do you have anything else to say?”

  “No, Your Grace.” Jade was right, damn her. As her parents’ only living child, she wouldn’t be able to stomach the look of shame in their eyes if she married beneath her station.

  “Are you sure?” Melandris asked in a sing-song tone. “I would love to make you a fishmonger’s bride.” She thoughtfully tapped her chin. “Or maybe I’ll wed you to a slave trader.”

  Kyria balled her hands into fists.

  “Hmm, I touched a nerve.” She let out a grating laugh. “Slave trader it is.” She strutted across the bridge that led to the stairs, her laughter echoing off the stones.

  Kyria had to work hard to unclench her jaw. “I hate that woman.”

  “Calm down,” Jade said, rubbing her back. “She can’t marry you to a slave trader. Even she’s aware of the influence of your brother’s legacy.”

  Shaking off her friend, she stormed to the stairs. “I hope she does marry me to a slaver, so I can slit his throat while he sleeps.”

  TIRED AND SORE, KYRIA dragged herself into the chamber she shared with Jade, thankful for the steaming tub of water and tall goblet of wine waiting for her. If only she could wash the stench of piss and vinegar from her memory. Throwing a pilfered pile of clothes on the bed, she greeted Jade with a soft kiss.

  “How are you?” Jade asked, untying Kyria’s belt.

  “Exhausted.” Kyria felt a sense of detached numbness as Jade’s fingers skimmed her firm breasts when she pulled down the thin straps of her tunic.

  Jade whispered, “I know how I can make you feel better.”

  Brushing off her friend, she let her dress pool at her feet. “I’m not in the mood.” She stepped into the tub, sinking into the water with a groan.

  Jade leaned over her with a sponge, sliding it across her abdomen, her heavy breasts brushing Kyria’s arm. “Are you sure?” she cooed, dipping the sponge lower. Jade’s pale skin was an erotic contrast to Kyria’s olive complexion and the dark thatch of curls between her thighs.

  Loathe though she was to deny an opportunity to have her friend’s deft fingers ease her tension, she gently pried the sponge from Jade’s hands.

  Ignoring Jade’s pout, she made quick work of cleaning and drying herself and then sat on the edge of the four-poster bed they shared. It was piled so high with pillows, she suspected she’d get lost in silk and feathers if she fell backward. She slipped into the coarse servant’s robe she’d stolen from the supply room and reached for her day sandals, brown leather monstrosities that looked like something the Dragon Defenders had worn when visiting her parents’ home. Her brother had had a pair almost exactly like them. How she loved them, though Melandris had threatened to burn her “hideous flippers” on several occasions.

  Jade planted hands on her hips. “What are you doing?”

  She refused to look Jade in the eyes. “Going out,” she answered evenly, lacing leather straps.

  “Where?”

  Heaving a sigh, Kyria looked up at her friend. “I have to find out the fate of the child.”

  Jade pinched her lips together, color flushing her pale cheeks and racing like wildfire all the way to her strawberry roots. “Do you want to be demoted to omega?”

  Twisting her long, dark hair in a bun, she secured it with a few thick pins. “I don’t give a damn.” That wasn’t true, but the child’s fate was more important than her bride price. Besides, Jade was right. Melandris wouldn’t dare demote the twin sister of their nation’s most revered fallen hero. Such an insult would cause scandal, and Melandris wouldn’t want the slightest blemish to smear her temple’s good name.

  “Curse you.” Jade aggressively stripped off her nightgown.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like? I’m going with you.”

  She’d hoped Jade would accompany her, but fear gnawed her gut. “I don’t want you to get in trouble on my account.” Kyria could handle Melandris’s punishments, but Jade was far more fragile.

  “Too late.” She flung her dress across the room. “If Melandris comes asking for you, I’ll get in trouble when I’m forced to lie.”

  “I figured you’d say that.” She let out a soft chuckle. “Good thing I have two servant’s robes.” She tossed the extra uniform at Jade.

  Jade rubbed a thumb over the rough fabric. “Where are we going?”

  Kyria rummaged through her capes in her tall oak closet. “To the jail,” she said and pulled out a faded emerald cape with moth holes she’d been meaning to donate to the poor.

  Jade rolled her eyes. “Of course. So we can both get raped and watch our bride prices plummet.”

  “We’
re not going to get raped,” she said. “Romulus, the head jailer, was a Dragon Defender. He fought with my brother.”

  That didn’t guarantee protection them from rapists, but she would pretend it did. Tucking her brother’s pearl-handled dagger inside her pocket, she patted it for good measure and prayed to the goddess she wouldn’t need it.

  “And now he’s a jailer?” Jade scrunched her nose.

  She shrugged nonchalantly. “A dragon bit off his leg.”

  Ignoring Jade’s gasp, she climbed over the window seat stuffed with dolls and other trinkets their mothers had sent to them, and with the dexterity of a prowling cat, jumped to the thick limb of the tall Empire tree. Holding out a hand, she helped her friend onto the limb. “Don’t look down.”

  Jade cringed, her eyes momentarily closing. “The things I do for you.”

  “I know, my sweet.” Turning over Jade’s hand, she kissed her palm. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

  She pulled her friend to the rope ladder hanging from the tree and prayed she’d be able to keep her word and that they survived the night.

  JUMPING OVER A PUDDLE of piss, Kyria swore while they navigated dark alleyways, hoods pulled low. Jade had nearly lost her footing on the slick cobblestones at least a dozen times, cursing Kyria with each misstep. She cursed herself, too, for being foolish enough to bring her along. Kyria had only had to pull her blade on one staggering drunk, threatening castration when he whipped out his shriveled member. That threat was enough to momentarily sober him and send him scurrying back into the shadows.

  As they walked up the steep hill that led to the ancient prison with tall gray turrets and an entrance of imposing metal bars that stretched at least two men in height, Kyria smiled. Romulus was outside, towering over the other two guards while they shared a joke, the embers from his pipe falling precariously close to the wooden peg that had replaced his leg. He blew out a long puff of smoke.

  “Kyria?” Eyes widening, he tapped the remainder of the ashes onto the ground. “What are you doing here?”