Tempted By Fae

by Midnight Coven

  There’s something between the two of them, and I wonder exactly how involved they are.

  “Joss, these are Rhys and Christian, princes of the Sea Court and the Night Court respectively.” Valor wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close. “They are married to our Queen.”

  My eyes widen. “Married? Both of them?”

  “There are four of us, actually,” Rhys says. “Faerie is much more…progressive than your human world.”

  “The Queen has a harem of hot men at her disposal?”

  Rhys smirks. “She does. It’s not uncommon here. There are far more males than females in our world.”

  “Hmm, I might like it here if I could have a harem.” I’m teasing, but also intrigued.

  Valor stiffens and glowers at me. “A harem isn’t something to be trifled with, lass. She shares her heart with the four of them. It’s a special bond, not made for everyone. For example, I’m not made to share.”

  I pat him on the shoulder, trying to distance myself from him because I’ve let my emotions control me rather than my mind, and read too much into his words and actions. If I don’t close myself off now, it’ll be that much more painful when I have to leave.

  “Come, my lady, Joss. We’ll escort you to the Queen’s study. I’m sure Maeve will want to chat with you alone before she sends you home.” Rhys offers me his arm, and I take it, not looking back at my dragon. I can’t spare him a glance because I can’t keep him.

  But a warm hand grabs mine, tugging me until I’m flush against Valor’s chest. “Ye cannae leave me without a kiss, lass. If this is the last we see of each other, I want to brand my lips on yours so you dream of me every night until your final breath.” His mouth claims mine, hot and hungry, without a care for the men watching us. Then he pulls back and, I swear, he stares into my fucking soul.

  “Valor,” I whisper because I have nothing left. He stole all my breath with that one kiss.

  “I’ll never love another, Joslynn. All my days and nights will be spent mourning you.”

  Then he releases me and shifts back into the form of his powerful dragon. I reach for him, but his wings spread and he takes off into the sky before I can stop him.

  “So, it’s that way, then?” Rhys asks.

  My heart is breaking, but I look at him with tears in my eyes and I say, “It can’t be that way.”

  Chapter Ten

  Valor

  I had to leave her. I know it was the right thing to do, but it hurt like a fucking iron spike through my chest. She’ll be long gone by now. It doesn’t take away the pain. I sit on the mountain top watching the world of the Shadow Court gradually darken as the sun begins to set. Queen Maeve will do right by her. She’ll have sent my Joss back to where she belongs. It’s how this must end. We’re from two different worlds. She won’t thrive here with people not of her own kind.

  My legs dangle over the cliff’s edge, the wind whipping around my face. I can feel my dragon fighting to take control again. It’s painful, but part of me wants to just give in and let it be. If I’m not with Joss, why fight it? I’ll live out my life as a dragon who protects the in-between and the Shadow Court’s borders.

  Incessant humming fills my ears as a pair of wings buzzes my head. I grunt in annoyance, waving away the little pixie who has gotten curious and flown in for a better look at the man sitting on the ledge.

  “Mighty dragon,” she says in her small, high-pitched voice.

  “Away, pixie,” I growl, swatting at her in hopes she’ll get the point.

  “You’re needed in the Queen’s study.”

  What could the Queen possibly want with me now? Ice shoots through my heart. What if something went wrong with Joss? What if she was hurt? Then hope worms its way inside. What if she stayed?

  Holding on to hope, I change back into a dragon and fly faster than I’ve ever flown before. It isn’t fast enough for my racing heart. I land hard in the courtyard, the stone ground cracking under the pressure. Then without giving my dragon a chance to fight me, I return to my true form. With my throat tight, chest aching, I run as fast as possible to the Queen’s study, not waiting for the guards to open the doors for me. I burst inside, finding no one but Queen Maeve. She’s standing at the window, hands on the sill, hair tumbling down her back.

  “My Queen—”

  She turns and stops me. “She’s alive. She’s home.”

  My heart turns to cold ash. “Then why bring me here?” Fuck, I can still smell Joss’ scent here.

  “Do you know she loves you?”

  Everything in me stops. “She told you that?”

  Shaking her head, she takes a few steps toward me. “No. But she asked something of me before I sent her on her way.”

  “What was that?”

  “She asked that I give you this.”

  Queen Maeve holds out her hand and a ring, glowing white, is settled in the center of her palm. “What is this?”

  “It’s her gift to you. A way to ensure you never have to change into a dragon again. She wanted to make sure you had the choice.”

  I take the ring and feel the pull, the same as what I’d felt from her before. “Is she fae? I couldn’t taste any fae blood in her.”

  She shakes her head. “No. But she is descended from a line of powerful witches. She just doesn’t know it.”

  “My Queen, I cannae take this from her.”

  A smile quirks up her lips. A curious reaction to my statement. “I thought as much.”

  “Why?”

  “You love her. You should be with her.”

  “I’d do anything to be with her for the rest of my life. Give anything. But I can’t. If she’s here, she’ll be in danger, even with your protection. Humans don’t do well in Faerie. We saw that first hand with your changeling.”

  “Agreed. That’s why she won’t ever be returning. I made certain of that.”

  My chest hurts and I bring my hand over my heart. “Then why bring me here?”

  “Just…put on the ring. If you’re sure you love her. But only if what you said was true.”

  I stare at her, confusion swirling in my mind, but the ring calls to me. Holding the glowing band between my thumb and forefinger, I inspect the metal. Then I slide my finger through and the world goes a brilliant white.

  Epilogue

  Joss

  I wake in my bed, in the small room I rented when I arrived in Scotland. It’s cold. Gray. Lifeless. So different from everything I’d begun to experience in-between with Valor. God. Valor. Even thinking his name hurts. I have no doubt my experience was real. Some may write it off as a dream, but I know deep in my heart, I was spirited away by the fae, tempted and taken.

  Standing, I stretch and yawn before I pad to the window and pull back the curtains. My heart lurches at the sight below. In the town square, next to the inn stands a man. A man dressed in leather and a tunic, with copper colored eyes, broad shoulders, and a desperate expression. Valor.

  Not caring that I’m only dressed in a pair of sleep shorts and a thin camisole, I run, barefoot, down the stairs and outside, where I leap into his arms with a strangled cry.

  “Oh, lass.” His voice. The voice I never wanted to silence wraps me in a blanket of perfect comfort.

  “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “The Queen played us both against each other. She got you to confess to your feelings, I did the same. The moment ye were willing to give of yourself to help me, she knew what neither of us could admit. We had to be together. We were meant for this.”

  “But…the ring was supposed to help you control—”

  “It does.” He shows me the ring I’d helped forge with my blood. She’d told me if I sacrificed some of my essence for this he’d be free of his dragon as long as he chose to wear it. “It brought me to the one person who banishes my dragon by loving me.”

  “I can’t go back. She used my blood to seal the gate from me.”

  He smiles and cups my face. “And I wil
l never leave your side.”

  “But that means—”

  “I won’t be returning to Faerie, lass. I’m staying here with ye.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.” He dips his head and kisses me right there in the town square. My hands wrap around his shoulders, and I lean into it, desperate for more. “Careful now. We’ll be arrested for public indecency if you don’t let me take ye into your rooms.”

  Breaking away from him, I glance around. People watch, slack-jawed, and my cheeks burn. “Then we’d better get upstairs. I have a dragon to ride.”

  From the author

  Thank you for reading Fires of Valor. You can read more about this world in K. Loraine’s Shadow Court Harem series. Their Shadow Queen, Protecting Their Shadow Queen, and Returning Their Shadow Queen are all available now.

  Kim writes steamy romances in both the contemporary and paranormal genres.

  You’ll find her paranormal romances written under the name K. Loraine and her contemporaries as Kim Loraine. Don’t worry, you’ll get the same level of swoon-worthy heroes, sassy heroines, and an eventual HEA.

  When not writing, she’s busy herding cats (raising kids), trying to keep her house sort of clean, and dreaming up ways for fictional couples to meet.

  Sign up to get updates on all of Kim’s new releases www.kimloraineauthor.com/newsletter

  Visit Kim’s website for more information about all of her books.

  www.kimloraineauthor.com

  Copyright © 2020 by Patricia D. Eddy

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Chapter One

  Adrian

  The knock on the heavy wooden door startles me, and my bowl of broth clatters to the floor.

  Fuck.

  I move stiffly, my muscles only now starting to feel like my own again after centuries of imprisonment. Scooping up the overturned bowl, I lay a rag onto the mess and shuffle across the room to lift the heavy wooden beam I use to secure myself inside this small cottage well outside the gates of the royal city.

  “King Adrian. May I enter?” A tall, dark-haired warrior stands with his hands clasped behind his back and his head bowed.

  Despite months of visits from the best of the realm’s healers, I still cannot speak. I believe I may have forgotten how. At least the strongest of us—like the man before me—have the ability to read thoughts.

  I gesture for the male to enter. Joran is one of the few Fae I knew well before my father and a young mage locked me in iron chains deep under his castle in the human world. He ducks as he crosses the threshold, notices the mess on the floor, and immediately drops to his knees.

  “I am no king. You are not to clean for me.” I reach for his arm, but he shakes me off. “You do not serve me, Joran.”

  “I serve my king. Sit. You look terrible.”

  As if that were any way to speak to a king. But as I do not want the honor, nor do I deserve it, I do as he says.

  “You should be living in the castle, my liege. There, you would be attended to by the best of our healers, have every meal prepared for you, and want for nothing.” Joran finishes cleaning up the spilled broth, then pumps the handle of my water spout until a steady stream flows into the basin. Within minutes, all evidence that I can barely manage to function has been wiped away.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask.

  “I come on the behest of the Queen Mother,” Joran says as his gaze finds a crack in the floor.

  I straighten, the scars on my back protesting the movement. “Is my mother all right?”

  “Yes, King Adrian. The elder healer was able to heal the worst of what your…father did to her. She can speak now. Only a few words so far, but her first one? Adrian.” His voice cracks, and he sinks down to one knee in front of me. “My liege, I have attended to her every day of her convalescence. She wishes to know her son.”

  “Her son is dead. I am nothing but a broken monster. It is better that I remain here.” This conversation will not end well, and I tire of Joran’s visits. He comes every few days, usually with a fresh batch of tonic from one of the healers.

  Like clockwork, he pulls a flagon from his pocket and sets it on the table. “Drink this. Lash believes you have too much iron bound to your vocal cords and that is why you still cannot speak.”

  I scowl and point to the door, uninterested in continuing this conversation. Every time the healers attempt to remove more of the iron from my body, they fail. And there is always pain.

  “King Adrian—“

  “Stop calling me that. Leave me, Joran. And do not return.”

  My only friend in Faery stomps out the door, slamming it in his wake. It is for the best. I am poor company and I would make a terrible king.

  Kat

  Ha’penny Bridge is lined with couples this time of the evening. Half an hour before sunset, the water in the River Liffey shines with the bright oranges and purples of the horizon, and the tourists and locals alike are full of love and sap as they close padlocks around the chain link fences on both sides of the bridge.

  Dammit, Miles. Why the hell did you have to send me to Dublin of all places?

  My boss, a narcissistic self-centered, egotistical prick, sent me all the way to Ireland because he “got a lead” on an old artifact that he thinks will suddenly fix his “block” and allow him to “master every realm in existence.”

  The multiplayer online role playing game I helped him create, Destiny of the Realms, has made more money with its latest release than I ever imagined when I joined the company, but Miles isn’t satisfied. This stupid statue won’t make a damn bit of difference. He’s the creative director, for fuck’s sake. He creates the realms. Of course he could master them without this thing.

  I’ll fix his block. Or I would, if he’d give me the authority to actually do anything. Five years as All Realms’ Narrative Director, and I’ve yet to be able to create any sort of narrative.

  My phone vibrates with a text message.

  Miles: Do you have the artifact yet?

  I roll my eyes as I turn down a side street.

  Kat: No. I only landed four hours ago, Miles. Customs alone took almost ninety minutes. I’ll text you as soon as I find the damn thing.

  Shoving my phone into my messenger bag, I shake my head. Why didn’t I quit when he ordered me to board a plane and retrieve some four-thousand-year-old sculpted phoenix from an occult shop in Dublin?

  Because it’s not like I have any other options.

  I lost my last coding job when I tripped over a loose tile on the floor and knocked over an entire rack of servers. And…then they caught fire.

  Miles reminds me of that every chance he gets.

  The universe has a sick sense of humor, and my foot catches on an uneven cobblestone in the middle of the street. My ankle folds the wrong way, and I stumble towards the sidewalk.

  Shit. This fucking phoenix better be worth it.

  I stoop down and rub my fingers up and down my lower leg a few times, and once I’m satisfied I didn’t do anything too serious, I push to my feet, wince, and glance around. Just above me, a weathered wooden sign creaks as it swings in the breeze.

  Cloch Anam.

  Soul Stone.

  Well, at least if I had to fall, doing it only steps from my destination is a small blessing.

  As I slip through the door, the overwhelming scent of incense invades my nose, and I start to wheeze a little. But I have to do this or Miles will fire me, and I need this job.

  Floor-to-ceiling shelves hold glass jars with herbs, spices—oh God, are those dried animal parts?—and candles. Behind the counter, weathered tomes of all sizes draw my gaze, and in the glass case? Ornamental athames, Celtic crosses, and
there! The stone phoenix I was sent to buy.

  “Hello?” I press my hands to the countertop and lean forward, peering into the darkened back room. “Is anyone here?”

  “This is a dangerous place for those who seek that which they do not understand.” The raspy female voice is only two feet behind me, and I whirl around, lose my balance again, and my ass hits the counter, rattling everything inside.

  “You scared me,” I say with my hand pressed to my chest. The shopkeeper looks like she’s pushing ninety, but her dark brown eyes watch me with a keenness that unnerves me. “Um, I’m here for—“

  “For the Phoenix.”

  The old woman shuffles behind the counter as I gape at her. How does she know? “Did, um, Miles Osterman call you?”

  “No.” Pulling a set of keys from her pocket, she unlocks the cabinet and gingerly removes the lump of stone Miles sent me across the ocean to retrieve. “A daughter of the sun cannot hide her intentions from one of the night.”

  “I…I don’t understand.” A hard ball of anxiety tightens in my stomach, and my fingers tremble as I take a step back.

  The carved statuette is only ten inches long, but when she sets it on the counter, the solid thunk surprises me. It must be heavy.

  “There is much you do not understand. Much you do not wish to. Take care with the Fae realm’s darkest secret lest it steal you away forever.” With a deep sigh, the woman wraps the phoenix statuette in a black cloth and then slides it towards me.

  “How much do I owe you?” I say as I tuck the heavy sculpture into my purse.

  When I look up, she’s gone. But then her raspy voice floats over the air from the back of the shop. “Such an item cannot be sold. Beware, daughter of the sun. Beware.”

  Limping back out of the shop, I shake off the odd conversation and turn towards the hotel. It’s at least ten blocks away, and my ankle is hurting more with every step.