Taken by Storm (Storms of Blackwood Book 1)

by Elle Middaugh

  The guard returned then, carrying a scroll, which he passed to the king.

  “Ah, yes,” His Majesty muttered to himself as he read. “The Ravenel family line. Father, Dimitri—deceased; mother, Katelynn—alive, obviously. Aunts, uncles, cousins still alive... good.”

  He glanced at me over the top of the scroll.

  “Do not even think of running away, Miss Ravenel, or your entire family will pay for your transgression. Even—” He glanced back down at the scroll. “—little Lilah, your youngest cousin. Blackleaf Village will be burned to the ground. Do I make myself clear?”

  Fear like I’d never felt filled my gut. What kind of man would kill a one-year-old baby? It terrified me to contemplate the kind of monster he might be, but I didn’t doubt for a second that he was telling the truth.

  I nodded quickly. “Crystal clear, Your Majesty.”

  He rolled the scroll back up and handed it to the guard, while I glanced over my shoulder and found Speedy hanging from a branch near my head. He must’ve traveled half the night to get this close to me. Probably right after I got knocked out.

  He bleated loudly, and I could only assume he was telling the king to go fuck himself.

  It was what I would have done... you know, if he wasn’t the king.

  The guard passed him another scroll, which he quickly skimmed over, signed at the bottom, and thrust into my grasp.

  “This is your royal summons. Make sure your mother sees this. Remember: two weeks.”

  He turned to leave but paused.

  “Oh, and, Alexis? Make sure you take a bath before we return. It’ll make the journey to the citadel a bit more tolerable for everyone else.”

  Heat crept up the back of my neck, burning across my cheeks.

  Oh, so not only was I poor, but I was also smelly? Well, you know what, asshole? Maybe if you didn’t tax us so hard, I’d have money for luxuries such as soap! Or rose-petal perfume! Or maybe I’d have enough money left over that I didn’t have to work all the damn time, and then I could actually spare a few minutes to properly bathe on the daily! Fucking dickbag...

  I glanced down, touching the coarse material of my dress with calloused fingers. I was pretty sure it was supposed to be blue, but after years of exposure to dirt and grime in the jewel mines, it had permanently turned a dirty brown.

  I hated being underprivileged, being treated like less of a person because I couldn’t afford the prettiest dresses. No one even cared that I was attractive and physically fit, that I was funny and easy to get along with. They only cared that I was poor. Just another toad to devour.

  My thoughts drifted back to Adam, the boy who’d once held my heart in his hands. He didn’t judge me for my lack of coins and jewels. He didn’t treat me like the filth on my dress or the dirt caked under my nails. He loved me for me, the girl I was on the inside.

  But he was gone, as he had been for years.

  The sting that used to twinge my chest at the thought of him had long ago muted. Still, it was times like these that I missed him most. I didn’t even know if he was dead or alive. All I knew was that I could never hope to be with him again. Especially now that I was all but engaged to a prince.

  Without a second glance, the king climbed back up the hill with his guards following close behind. The carriage door opened, then shut, and with the crack of a whip, they were gone.

  Chapter 2

  Speedy suddenly dropped out of the tree and landed right on his head.

  “What the hell, you clumsy ass, are you okay?” I scooped him up and cuddled him. He slowly rolled his eyes but smiled. “Come on. We need to get home and find Mom and Gemma.”

  Gemma Darrow was my best friend. Well, she was technically my only friend besides a goony sloth hell-bent on killing himself and Adam—the lost love I’d probably never see again. She was one of those super social people with a hundred shallow friendships but only one or two deep ones. I was lucky enough to be a deep one.

  I figured if I wept pitifully enough, she might agree to be my handmaiden. Having Mom, Speedy, and Gemma at court would literally be all I needed. Gem had this uncanny ability to always make me feel at home. No matter where we were, if Gemma was there, I was content.

  I trudged through the forest, and by the time I reached my backyard, I was pleased to find the sun back to shining. The storm from last night had finally passed.

  Got your shit together, did you, Calvin? I teased the prince in my head. It was super fucking weird to think I’d be teasing him in person in just two weeks’ time. I wondered if I’d get slapped for saying something like that. Maybe if I tacked on “Your Majesty” at the end I’d be safe? I scoffed, realizing I was basically doomed to be slapped silly for the rest of my life.

  I hurried inside our shack and deposited Speedy on my bed, pointing a stern finger in his cute little face. “Stay here while I go find Mom. So help me gods, if I find you’ve wandered off again, I’m going to strangle you.”

  Slowly, he smiled wide.

  “Seriously, do you have a death wish? Stay.”

  Trusting he’d adhere to my warning or, at the very least, be too slow to wander too far off, I rushed out the door and over to the mines.

  The town of Blackleaf, where I was born and raised, was a picturesque vision tucked seamlessly into the forestry all around. Everything in the Kingdom of Blackwood had "black" in the name, even though most things were actually quite vivid, including the leaves which were, in fact, not black at all.

  Trees stood tall all over the place, with houses and cobblestone roadways tucked neatly in between their trunks. Off the stone paths, the ground was soft and spongy. The leafy canopy overhead was too thick to allow more than a few shards of sunlight through, so grass was largely replaced by moss—turf that was perfectly suited for people to run around barefoot on, though they rarely ever did.

  The entrance to the jewel mines where my mother and I worked was large and cut into the side of a rolling, green mountain range. It used to be nothing more than a small hole with a wooden frame keeping it from caving, so low you had to duck to get inside. But as Blackleaf quickly became the jewel capital of the kingdom, the need for more jewels, more workers, and, consequently, more space took precedence. They widened it so we could get cartloads of gemstones out, empty carts back in, and at least two lines of workers in and out at all times.

  It was beyond maddening to deal with precious stones all day long and still be dirt freaking poor. I hated jewels. Hated them with a flaming passion.

  The inside of the main channel was sloped downward and lit with torches positioned evenly along the walls. Just as an area was about to get shadowy, another torch took over and cast more light. There was always a crew of workers digging further down into the mountain, and other workers spread out into the veins on the sides. Mom and I had been assigned to a pocket of emeralds in a narrow vein on the right. The fourth vein.

  I shivered at the thought. For some reason, I hated even numbers. They gave me goosies up my arms and down my legs. It was probably the perfectness of them that made me want to puke, how they divided so evenly and flawlessly. Give me an odd number any day, and a five best of all. That was my favorite number. Perfect for grouping things and counting but still not even or easily divisible. A stubborn number—like me.

  I found Mom a few minutes later, hacking away at the cave wall with a dull pickax. She was short and shaped like an hourglass—the spitting image of me, except for the gray streaks lining her dark brown hair and the wrinkled creases aging her pretty face. She was sweating and out of breath, but she kept on swinging that damned ax. I guess it was pretty obvious where my stubbornness came from too.

  "Mom!" I shouted, making my voice louder than the echoes of the chipping stones.

  She dropped the ax on its head, put a hand on her hip, and wiped at the sweat along her brow. "Hey, honey. Where have you been?”

  I grimaced. “It’s a long story.”

  She grabbed a jug of water and poured some into a c
up, taking a long swig. “I had to cover for you when old man Fallon came to take attendance. I've been busting my ass to make up for your missing portions."

  Guilt washed over me. "I'm so sorry, Mom. I’ll work late to make up for it, I swear.”

  She brushed my comment away with her gloved hand. “So, where were you? You didn’t even come home last night. I was starting to worry.”

  “It's actually a weird story, but to cut to the chase..." I handed her the summons.

  Her eyes went wide, and her glistening face paled. It was like she'd seen a ghost. Possibly not too far from the truth, because I had a bad feeling my smart mouth might get us killed at Blackwood Palace.

  Her hands shook as she removed her gloves and read the note.

  "A summons from the Storm King himself..." Her eyes darted up to mine. "What the hell is this about?"

  I wrung my hands as I tried to decide where to start. “Well, you see... a man sort of fell down the hill and gave me his magical powers upon death, and now the king wants me to marry one of his stupid sons to strengthen the Storm family line. Or something….”

  Her features hardened as she grabbed my arm and pulled me into a crevasse, away from any unwanted eyes.

  "Alexis, I have something to tell you."

  My mind immediately started spinning, spitting out all sorts of crazy ideas before she could finish her thought.

  "Oh, fuck, Mom, don't tell me. The Storm King is my true father and the princes are my long-lost brothers?"

  "What? Gods, no!"

  "I'm a secret princess, destined to rule instead of the Storms?"

  Her eyebrow rose. "No. Now, listen—"

  I gasped as a new idea came to me. "You have powers too, and you've been hiding them from me and everyone for years?"

  "Alexis! Shut up." She took a deep breath, probably to make sure I'd actually stopped talking before she continued. "Your father didn't just die of natural causes all those years ago. He died in a war."

  I was suddenly glad I'd been silenced. Mom never spoke of my father's passing. I assumed it was simply too painful for her to think about. Since I never knew him, it didn't really bother me too much. But now, I was insanely curious.

  "Northern Blackwood used to be its own kingdom. We were prosperous and content, our people educated and independent. We were even making progress with deciphering the technology the gods had left behind all those years ago. And then the Storm King came. Our men were called to war, and though they fought valiantly, they still fell. Your father was one of them."

  I swallowed, surprised to find my mouth was suddenly dry.

  I’d never once wondered why I was able to attend school, despite being outrageously poor, or why we had certain items—like steel pickaxes and water and sewage systems. I’d never contemplated the possibility of a lost civilization or a war that ruined it all. No one ever talked about it.

  "So...” I started, trying to sort through my thoughts. “In a sense, the Storm King killed my father and ruined our lives?"

  "Yes. It was his war that killed not only your father but thousands of others. And the princes..." She trailed off and shook her head. "Every kingdom the Storm King conquered, he also ruined. He killed the kings and took the queens for his own, forcing them to bear his children. Any children the queens had previously, no matter what age, suffered the fates of their fathers."

  A wave of nauseous heat washed over me, along with a severe urge to puke. Dizzied, I leaned into a cave wall for support. Grown adults fighting in a war for freedom seemed brave, but children being slaughtered because of their last name? That was absolutely abhorrent.

  "Why are you telling me this?" I asked, pleaded, in a barely audible whisper. "It won't change my fate; it'll only make me hate it a thousand times more. I can't undo the magic that crashed into me, and aside from a death sentence, I can't escape the Storm King's summons. So why? Why would you tell me this?"

  She turned to the ground, a look of regret pinching at her lips and eyes. "I'm sorry, Alexis, I just thought you needed to know the truth beforehand. You can do with it what you will."

  "There is no will! At least, not one of my own," I hissed, backing out of the crevasse. "Only the king's will. And I'll do what I'm told, or we'll all die."

  I yanked on my gloves and grabbed my pickax from the day before, taking fast, heavy swings at the cave wall. Chips of rock and debris burst into the air, like little bits of anger being freed from within me. I swung again and again before my mother grabbed my arm and halted my motions. She damn near took an ax to the face.

  "What do you mean 'we'll all die’?"

  Panting and fighting back tears, I shook my head and recalled the king's words. "He said he'd kill everyone in Blackleaf, even down to little Lilah, if I tried to escape."

  Mother gasped and clamped both hands over her mouth.

  "Yeah," I agreed dryly, yanking my arm free and smashing more rocks in my fury. "So, I'm just... fucked."

  Mom cleared her throat and picked up her ax, looking utterly lost. "Maybe the princes won't be as putrid and hateful as their father?"

  I scoffed. "Oh, now you want to find the silver linings?"

  She said nothing more.

  In fact, neither of us spoke until the end of her shift. We normally finished the day at the same time, but I was staying behind to make up for being late. She put down her ax and placed her warm hand on my shoulder.

  "I'm coming with you," she promised. "There's probably nothing either of us can do about anything that happens from this point forward but at least we'll be together."

  An ache spread deep into my chest and burned behind my eyes. I didn't bother to tell her she'd been ordered to come anyway. "Thank you, Mom. I really appreciate it. I'm allowed to bring a handmaid as well, so I'm going to Gemma's after work to see if she wants the job. Don't wait up."

  She nodded solemnly and left me to my work.

  Three or so hours later—it was hard to tell because the mines were always dark, so measuring time by the position of the sun was out of the question—I caught up on my jewel quota for the day and hauled my cart of emeralds over to the main channel.

  Almost no one was left. I waved to the few people I did see, and they ignored me as usual. Even amongst the poor, I was too poor to deserve a second glance.

  Well, you know what, assholes? I'm about to become a princess. Or a duchess, or whatever. Maybe then you'll notice that I exist?

  It was a weak consolation, but it was better than nothing. If this was my fate no matter what, then I needed to start looking for the positives. It would probably be the only way I survived the misery of it all.

  Exiting the mouth of the cave, I wandered through the moonlit trees and over to the richer side of the village. There, the homes were not necessarily bigger, but they were definitely newer, sturdier, and a lot less drafty. Beyond them stood a number of half-built houses in the middle of construction. They poked through the trees like wooden skeletons, standing on rocky foundations jutting up from the ground.

  Gemma and her father, Gerald, were carpenters by trade—a hell of an upgrade from miners, if you asked me and everyone else. They saw the sunshine on a daily basis and had a rich, golden blush to their skin, unlike my glow-in-the-dark cave-dweller skin, and their hair was a soft, flaxen yellow. They just looked built for the surface life. Like they belonged in the daylight, while I belonged in the moonlight. Or the pits of a freaking mine.

  A little way beyond the last foundation, tucked securely into the trees, sat a treehouse cabin we fondly referred to as the clubhouse. We’d built it ourselves when we were kids—okay, fine, Gemma mostly built it, considering she was the carpenter and all, but we were both equally proud of it. We used to escape there to play pretend, and as we grew, it became our haven, a place where reality didn’t quite exist. A place where we could forget our miserable lives and just relax. Even nowadays, we’d sometimes meet up and read books by the candlelight, enjoying each other’s company in silence.

 
I climbed the stairs to the clubhouse and knocked.

  I knew it’d be locked. Gemma loved her siblings, but she literally never got a break from them—not even while she worked. When she actually did find some privacy, she always locked the door in order to keep it that way. It had become a bit of an endearing quirk of hers over the years.

  She unlocked the door and smiled. “Hey, Lex! What are you doing up so late?”

  She flopped down on a makeshift mattress made of pillows, grabbed a book, and crossed her legs.

  “Oh, you know,” I said sort of awkwardly, “just stopped by to ask my very best friend in the whole wide world a super innocent, not at all important question.”

  She narrowed her bright blue eyes over top of the book’s spine. “All right. Spill it.”

  I took a deep breath. Whatever she might be expecting, this was not going to be it. May as well get it out quickly.

  “I’m moving into the palace in two weeks, and I want you to be my handmaiden.”

  She dropped the book on her face and sat up. “What?”

  “Oh, and I think I have magical powers.”

  I snapped my fingers together, then aimed them at the clubhouse wall. Nothing happened.

  She shook her head, and her wavy blonde hair cascaded around her face. “Wait. What?”

  “I know it sounds crazy. But last night Speedy ran away—”

  “Of course, he did.”

  “—and when I went looking for him, a dead guy gave me his powers—”

  “Totally normal.”

  “—and the king found me this morning in the woods—”

  “Yes, kings stroll through here all the time. Go on.”

  “—and now I’m engaged to a prince.” I shrugged. “But I don’t know which one yet.”

  Finally, she laughed out loud, kicking her legs in the air. “That’s a good one, Alexis. What book is that from? Are there any good sex scenes in it? I just read one where the knight lifted the princess up and literally shoved her pussy in his face and ate her in the air—”