The Golden Prince

by Nikki Jefford

  No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author. Thank you for respecting the rights of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 Nikki Jefford

  Cover design by Najla Qamber

  All rights reserved.

  For Sébastien –

  The prince of my heart.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lark

  Glowing blue and green lights rippled over the darkened ballroom. Fae dressed like sea creatures swished past jellyfish lanterns and tables crawling with fondant crabs, sand dollar cookies, and turtle cakes made with sugared jelly.

  Exotic dancers in shiny skintight turquoise pants and iridescent wing-like fins performed beautiful feats of flexibility in front of the string quartet. The females wore tight halter tops, and the males had scales painted over their bare chests.

  Aunt Sarfina had outdone herself again. She knew how to throw the kind of party no noble Fae would choose to miss. No matter what they thought of our family.

  I stood tall among the guests, bare-chested, my muscles oiled to a gleaming bronze and gold glitter shimmering over my biceps. Gilded shoulder and wrist plates adorned my skin, my head topped with a bronze crown in the shape of horn snails. Thick gold links circled my neck, hanging halfway down my chest. Some of the males wore full-on flippered tails in fabrics that shimmered and reflected in the surges of light. Many more had gone for tight shiny pants. I was one of the few to arrive in a gold-trimmed black Speedo.

  I would have looked a scandal in the mortal world (unless I was performing in an under-the-sea routine for a strip joint). Inhibitions went right out the portal in Faerie. I’d learned to fit in. A little too much, according to my mother. My fathers had been quick to agree, but then, who wanted to argue with a fire-wielding elf?

  Now twenty, I’d come into my own fire magic. (Thank you, Mother.) Uncle Liri had been thrilled. He said it added to my allure.

  This was his court at present—his and my aunt Hensley’s. They were always inviting me to Dahlquist. Well, ever since I offed Uncle Malon, saving my family’s kingdom from him and his blackguard nephew.

  Alok Elmray’s harpy of a mother had been so enraged over his cock-up that she’d spread a rumor across Faerie that I’d been conceived under the influence of lust dust and that this was the real reason my mother ended up with two mates. Mom said Oreal was a raving lunatic. Oreal claimed she’d witnessed the spell placed over my mother. Fae couldn’t lie, so . . . whatever. I didn’t care anymore. The gossipmongers gulped it down like bubbling wine. The nobles already called me “halfling” for most of my life. And then something changed.

  It happened after I killed Malon. I stopped giving a fig. It’s interesting how something as simple as not caring changed my standing. That and striking down my uncle. Now they knew what I was capable of. Now I had their respect. Their favor. And, in some cases, their devotion.

  Males and females flocked to me. Young and old. I wished they wouldn’t. My cousin Fraya told me if I didn’t want the attention, I should stop dressing like a gigolo.

  But I needed their attention. I needed it so I could snub them all. I wanted to shine my beauty in their smug faces until I blinded the insufferable bastards. As though I’d ever forget years of insults flung in my face, cast at my family.

  I wanted them to want me so that I could turn around and deny them all.

  A male wearing a shark costume and gripping a harpoon glared at me. Well, not everyone was a fan. My view of the indignant shark was cut off by a server dressed as an octopus holding a silver tray with sapphire cocktails. “Would you care for a Deep Blue Sea, Prince Lark?”

  A miniature sugared dolphin clung to the rim of each glass.

  “No, thank you.” If my family were in residence, I would have gone for it, but they were all back in the elven realm.

  On my own, I was the responsible eldest son. I couldn’t count on Uncle Liri or Aunt Sarfina to look out for me. They encouraged debauchery. If I let myself go, I could end up as part of an orgy or sacrificial ritual. Well, maybe not a ritual but definitely an orgy. There were open invitations on that score, but I’d never let these pricks get their hands on me that way.

  Bubbles floated past me as a female in a scaled bodysuit blew from a turquoise wand. There were more bubble-blowing faeries waving their wands through the crowd. Aunt Sarfina wasn’t much for the mortal realm, but when she’d seen us playing with bubbles as children, she’d insisted my dad Lyklor bring some back for her.

  “At least the mortals aren’t entirely useless,” she’d made sure to say in front of Aunt Hensley, Uncle Liri’s human mate.

  I could already see Aunt Sarfina’s eyes hooking me from beside a small group of males dressed like squids. My aunt wore a crown made of real seashells and a clingy pink gown that faded into purple ripples below her knees. The outline of her pelvis and thighs could be seen through the faded section, and a keyhole opening showed off toned skin between her breasts. My aunt looked smashing as usual.

  The young and beautiful Cadmi Quickhorn stood beside Aunt Sarfina in a white bustier covered in pearls with more wrapped around her delicate neck. The pearls looked especially good on her dark skin. She wore a flouncy plum skirt with wavy silver embroidery. Cadmi didn’t stand so much as pose. One hand rested on her lower hip, the other on her thigh.

  Aunt Sarfina grabbed the female’s arm and walked her to me. Cadmi pushed out her chest and flashed me a sultry smile, raking her eyes over me as they closed in.

  Aunt Sarfina nodded at me with a pleased smile. “Doesn’t Lark look like a dream?”

  “Like a wet dream,” Cadmi replied.

  The females burst into giggles. I smirked and stood straighter, as though I’d just heard something clever.

  “Oh, you are a wicked one, aren’t you?” Aunt Sarfina asked in delight. “But it’s true, my nephew is the best catch in the kingdom.”

  “I believe you hold that title, Auntie,” I replied smoothly.

  Aunt Sarfina beamed.

  “Aw,” Cadmi cooed. Her syrupy sweetness did not match the narrowing of her eyes when she speared Aunt Sarfina with a sideways glance. Despite being older, my aunt was still a blonde beauty who turned heads at every party. It didn’t matter that we were family. Cadmi was the jealous sort who saw threats in all females. “Aren’t you going to ask me to dance, Lark?” Pouty bronzed lips puckered at me.

  I cocked one brow. “Isn’t that what you’re doing now?” I asked sardonically.

  “Is that a yes?” Cadmi demanded.

  I gave her the barest nod, but from her squeal, you’d think I’d chased her down for a dance. Cadmi grabbed me by the arm.

  “Mind the shimmer,” I warned her in a sharp voice.

  Cadmi giggled. I swear these nobles got off on sadism.

  I couldn’t stand the part I played. I didn’t like myself here, which begged the question: was revenge worth the price? And what was I really getting out of this? Why was I really here?

  I’d rather cut out my tongue than admit the truth. Instead, I allowed Cadmi to drag me to the dance floor like I was a prize fish she’d caught. I smirked while she fought off other females who tried to grind up behind me as she ran slender fingers down my chest.

  “I want the next dance,” a female in an electric-blue netted skirt announced beside us.

  “The next dance is mine,” snapped a female in a green halter top and short sequined skirt.

  Cadmi hissed at them. “Get away from us. We’re trying to dance. Or maybe Prince Lark will have to t
ake me someplace private where we won’t be bothered.”

  The females huffed but backed off.

  “Insidious piranhas,” Cadmi said scornfully. She wrapped her slender arms around my neck, tugging heavy like the gold chains I wore. A smile played over Cadmi’s lips. “It’s no wonder they try. Your aunt is right, Lark. You are the best catch in the kingdom. You belong with someone equally beautiful.”

  Maintaining a bored smirk was beginning to wear on me. No, Cadmi was wearing on me. I had half a mind to storm out of this shark-infested function and portal back home to Pinemist. I’d need to change first; otherwise my family would laugh themselves stupid at the sight of me in a Speedo and glitter.

  I missed hanging out with my real friends: Fraya and Zelie.

  A pit opened in my stomach. The three of us hadn’t actually spent time together in a while. Everything was changing. Fraya was always off competing, taking the archery circuit by storm. And Zelie . . . Shit. I’d blown it with her a couple years ago; ruined one of my closest friendships. I hadn’t meant to. It’s just, she’d kissed me, and I hadn’t wanted to kiss her back. I wish I had. It would have been the perfect little love story for friends who had grown up together.

  Love was complicated, especially as an Elmray. My family had serious issues when it came to relationships.

  Maybe spending time in Faerie wasn’t revenge at all. Maybe I was running away.

  Cadmi pulled on my chain, yanking me back to my underwater migraine. “What are you thinking about?” she demanded.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  She ate up my mockery. Smiled with teeth that looked extra white against her dark skin. “I’m thinking about you and what I’d like to do to you,” she purred.

  Subtle.

  Let her kiss my halfling ass. Figuratively. I didn’t want her glossy bronzed lips anywhere near my actual hindquarters—or front quarters for that matter.

  Then her fingers were brushing over my groin. I caught her wrist and pulled her hand away with a growl.

  “Not here.” Not anywhere.

  Her eyes lit up as though she believed I’d whisk her off to a private room and allow her every liberty she desired. I was tempted to push her away, toss off the crown and chains, and end this whole charade when I noticed a set of piercing brown eyes glaring my way.

  Crispin Maglen, Earl of Ashcraw, scowled two couples over. He stood a good foot from his dance partner, Pervinca Peppercuff, probably because she was wearing a full ball gown packed with layer after layer of swirling green-and-blue tulle. Crispin was tall and lean, draped in a white toga with a blue-and-gold sash. Beneath a gold crown, his silky light brown hair hung loose. Usually, he wore it tied behind his back with a silk ribbon.

  I wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be. I didn’t know what either of them were going for other than to look pompous and pretty together—as usual. I was forced to see them together at the kingdom’s parties. They were practically engaged. Everyone knew it. Their parents had been planning the union from the time the pair hit puberty. I kept waiting for an invitation to the grand Maglen and Peppercuff engagement ball, but announcements had yet to appear.

  Crispin’s sister, Kenzie, danced with a squid nearby, grinning with delight. She was only a year younger than Crispin and me and one of the few friendly nobles in the area. If she weren’t related to Crispin, we could have been friends. Wearing a purple-and-teal mermaid gown, she dressed like she actually understood the concept of an under-the-sea ball. Unlike the Roman emperor Crispin had come as. A sequined starfish barrette shimmered prettily from the side of Kenzie’s wavy red hair. She looked more like a Disney Ariel from the human world than a tailed temptress in Faerie. It was refreshing. Too bad I couldn’t tell her.

  Crispin noticed me looking at his sister and tightened his jaw. I smirked at him before casting a lingering look over Kenzie, knowing how much it would eat him up.

  While I was distracted, Cadmi reached down and grabbed me. Crispin was watching, looking all arrogant and disgusted. I took off my crown and necklace and handed them to the nearest female.

  “Hold these,” I ordered before wrapping my arms around Cadmi’s waist. I lifted the nimble female off the ground and spun her around. Her gasp of delight reached my pointed ears. She knew I was giving in, that I was about to perform and take her with me.

  No one here could outdance me. The hired performers could try to keep up, but I’d had over a decade of ballet lessons and a passion for movement that could never be taught. I owned the stage.

  I lifted Cadmi’s arm and leg into the air. The violins played faster, as though commanded by my impromptu performance. The music flowed through me like a current weaving along a creek bed.

  Everyone around us stopped dancing to watch. I lifted Cadmi again, guiding her movements, bending her to my will. I felt like an artist molding clay. A breathy gasp came from one of the females who had been fighting for a chance at me earlier. When I danced, it was sensual and gritty, not full-on Cirque du Soleil (which was awesome) but definitely not classical.

  I twirled Cadmi in front of me. She was good at keeping up and improvising. When I let go of her, she continued twirling. I took that opportunity to leap into a pointe.

  The crowd clapped. I didn’t want to perform for them. Dancing was my own special escape.

  I should have left when I had the chance. It was too late now. Once I caught Crispin’s attention, there was no walking away.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Crispin

  Lark Elmray was making an absolute spectacle of himself, yet again. Lark. Even his name sounded like a joke.

  Pervinca huffed over the next round of applause. “I thought we were attending a ball, not the theatre.”

  She sounded moody, as usual, but I didn’t miss the way she toyed with one tight brown curl, twirling it around her finger while Lark spun Cadmi Quickhorn. My upper lip curled. Cadmi was a viper. She’d made my sister cry at my family’s last masquerade ball. Told Kenzie she shouldn’t wear pastel with her skin tone because it made her look like a cadaver. I wanted to boot the bitch out after Kenzie confided in me, but my sister had begged me not to mention it to our father. He’d only say she needed to toughen up.

  The real surprise was seeing Lark with his hands all over his most vicious critic from the old days, before he became some kind of fucking legend around here. Cadmi used to bitch about the “halflings” in residence every time Lark and his family were at the castle.

  Pervinca folded her arms beside me, and I was reminded that she was no better than Cadmi.

  “I don’t know which is worse, having that human fraud acting like she’s a queen or that elf tramp tarnishing royal traditions,” she’d said. Her complaint was always the same: “Greedy elfling. One Fae king wasn’t enough for her. She had to go and seduce two of them. It’s a disgrace.”

  Arms folded tightly, the only time Pervinca eased off her glare was when her eyes followed Lark’s movements. The Elmrays were all beautiful. Lark took after his father (his real father), King Lyklor. They were golden-haired gods with tanned skin and bright blue eyes. Lark kept his blond hair short, but there was a lot of it waving around his head and face, defying gravity. Kind of like the male himself.

  When Cadmi attempted to leap into the air, Pervinca sneered. “She’s slowing him down. Doesn’t she realize how ridiculous she looks?”

  Not ridiculous but nothing like Lark. He did a cartwheel into the crowd, immediately followed by a backflip. Then he was on the ground, a bronzed leg sweeping over the floor as he spun. For a moment (or maybe just a millisecond), Lark’s eyes lit up, and a serene smile played over his lips before winking out as though it was never there.

  When the song ended, applause rang out, and the crowd surged toward Lark like a tide intent on swallowing him up.

  “Breathtaking!”

  “You are beauty magnified, Prince Lark.”

  A female in a netted skirt shoved through the gathering to hand Lark his crown and thi
ck circle of chain links he’d worn around his neck. How many years had it been since he’d started up all this pageantry?

  I still remembered our years of boyhood, a time when Lark would have cringed at this kind of over-the-top attention. He used to keep to himself. He’d seemed to have this hidden charm he reserved for a select few. I liked the way Lark was before: carefree and full of smiles. I liked that he didn’t fit in, that he hadn’t become one of us. A bunch of jaded, pretentious faerie assholes who only knew how to laugh in mockery.

  I thought Lark’s family and his time in the elven and mortal realms would have kept him grounded, but in the end, he’d succumbed. He’d become the golden prince. The darling of Dahlquist. Just another shallow prick. And, yes, that was a deliberate pun given my current surroundings. Not all Fae are lacking in humor, believe it or not.

  Lark tried to befriend me once when we were boys. Right before I fucked it all up.

  “What do I have to do to get him to notice me?” a female quipped from nearby.

  “I told you to come as a mermaid instead of a goldfish, Koko.”

  “But I’m a sexy goldfish.”

  I barely spared a glance for the female in her shiny orange leotard with a short iridescent skirt matching her wrist and ankle bands. I wrinkled my nose, then lifted my arm to Pervinca. “Now that Lark’s commandeered the dance floor, we might as well sample the refreshments.”

  Pervinca leaned away from my arm and scowled as though I’d invited her to feast on fish guts. Craning her neck to peer in the direction of the walls, she frowned. “The refreshment tables are deserted.”

  “Exactly,” I said.

  “All the action is happening right here, Crispin. Sky, you can be such a bore.”

  My jaw tightened. “Perhaps a handstand is more to your amusement.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Pervinca said with a lofty lift of her nose. Her eyes, however, slid in Lark’s direction and seemed to glow the more she watched the commotion surrounding him.