Fae Trials: A Paranormal Academy Bully Romance (Royal Fae Academy Book 1)

by Sofia Daniel

  Fae Trials

  Royal Fae Academy Book One

  Sofia Daniel

  Copyright © 2020 by Sofia Daniel.

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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  www.SofiaDaniel.com

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  From Sofia Daniel

  Chapter 1

  Every so often, I would stand at the edge of Saltbay port and squint across the Irish Sea to catch a glimpse of England. That was on days when the army planes weren’t trailing clouds of iron salt through the air. Back in the days before Dad had disappeared and when Mom was still alive, I used to wonder if the other humans in England could see us waving at them from the Isle of Fae.

  Now, I want to know why those English bastards would keep their own kind confined here like lepers in a colony with all these faeries.

  I sprinted down Knockout Hill, peering out into the sea where the United Nations cargo ship moored next to the off-shore iron rig. It was the first Monday of the month when the outside world delivered something other than food. We were just in time, as the ship lowered floating containers into the water.

  A gust of salty wind blew a lock of mousy-brown hair into my eyes, making me slow down to tuck it behind my ear.

  Sicily let out an uncharacteristic squeal. “Keep up, Unity!”

  At this time of the morning, while the sun peeked above the horizon, dark fae still roamed the streets in the few minutes before their curfew. All the dangerous ones now festered in the Dark Fae Prison. The rest were mostly harmless unless a human was stupid enough to approach them for a bargain. But that didn’t mean it was a good idea to attract their attention.

  The human governments explained that they didn’t approach the ports to avoid contaminating the fae with their iron. My sister and I knew the truth. The ships kept their distance to stop us humans from scrambling to our freedom.

  “Hurry up,” Sicily shouted between panting breaths. “We’ll miss the iPads.”

  Rolling my eyes, I hiked up my skirt and continued running. “They’d never risk the fae getting a method to communicate with the outside world.”

  We split apart to run around a stocky figure in black, who was pushing a cart of tools toward the port. From the width of its shoulders, it was probably a troll.

  Sicily lowered her voice. “I heard Apple was—”

  “You know what rumors are like,” I said. “They’re probably delivering a new kind of fruit, and some mischief-maker told everyone it was computers.”

  “Nope.” Sicily made a few jumping jacks. “In a few hours, we’ll be back at home watching O-tube on our new pads.”

  “Youtube.” I chuckled. We didn’t get TV signals over here, let alone internet connections, but my sister lived on hope. Hope that Dad had smuggled his way onto a ship and now lived somewhere amazing like London, Paris, or New York. Hope that he would one day find a way for us to join him.

  We turned into the Saltwater Wharf, and our footsteps faltered. Instead of the usual dockworkers, it looked like half of Doolish had woken early to gather at the waterfront.

  “You see?” Sicily picked up her pace and sprinted toward the crowd. “Everyone knows what’s coming today.”

  “Bloody hell.” I stared at her back, my eyes flickering from my sister to the mass of beings gathered around the water’s edge. If it wasn’t iPads arriving today, it had to be something else of value. I rushed toward my sister, grabbed her hand, and we shoved our way through nearly a hundred humans, satyrs, and other lesser fae.

  “Excuse me.” I ducked beneath the arm of an ogre.

  “Oi,” he bellowed. “There’s a line, you know!”

  “Sorry!” I dodged right into his blind spot, letting his fist land on the flank of a centaur who let out an ear-piercing screech.

  Sicily turned around, her blue eyes wide. “What the—”

  “Keep going.” I edged around a pair of hags standing in the middle of the throng, not wanting to attract the attention of either the ogre or the centaur, whose shouts colored the air blue.

  A row of iron peacekeepers stood at the edge of the wharf, their presence and the spray of saltwater keeping the lesser fae at a distance. Each wore black body armor and helmets with magic resistant visors. They were also humans, but worked for the UN and thought they were better than us because they came from faraway places like Europe and Asia and Africa where no one had ever seen a faerie.

  As we broke through the crowd, the sergeant raised his iron baton. “Stay back and place your hands where we can see them!”

  Sicily and I stopped running and exchanged exasperated glances. Wasn’t it obvious from our shabby clothes, mousy hair, and five-foot-nothing frames that we were human? These guys were such dicks.

  “Fine,” I growled. “It’s not like we’re going to get anything but fruit.”

  Sicily hopped from foot to foot. “It’s something special, I know!”

  Cheers rang across the wharf as the floating container approached the dock. The peacekeepers stood aside to let the workers load it onto a metal docking platform six feet beneath where we stood.

  My throat dried. What if the rumors were true? From what I had learned on DVDs, people needed WIFI to connect their laptops to the internet. But what if iPads came with internet of their own? I wished I’d spent more time analyzing this instead of getting caught up in the exciting shade-throwing and the drama.

  My sister’s fingers grazed mine. “We could search for Dad on Google.”

  “Yeah,” I said, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice.

  Sicily was the dreamer, not me. Despite the peacekeepers and the curfews, dark fae still lured humans into the Mound and enslaved them for ninety-nine years. Dad had probably made a bad bargain or angered a light fae. Just because King Oberon had teamed up with the UN to banish his mother to the Otherworld, it didn’t mean he was a good monarch. The fae king was just intelligent enough to recognize the dangers the outsiders posed to the fae.

  I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. Faeries had occupied the Isle of Fae since the beginning of history. Over the centuries, Viking invaders, shipwrecks, and all manner of hapless human travelers got washed up on these shitty shores. We became their slaves, their concubines, their food until the outside world discovered us. It was only in recent generations with the development of modern warfare that other humans stepped in to ensure we weren’t suffering.

  It was a pity they didn’t let us out, though. Then no negotiations would be necessary with the blasted faeries.

  Four ogres jumped down to the unloading dock. They hauled the container onto the metal platform and wrenched its door open with a crowbar. Silence stretched out across the morning as we waited to see what lay inside.

  Then the ogre pulled out a box with an ap
ple silhouette on its exterior, and I held my breath.

  Sicily rushed forward. “There it is!”

  “Wait—” I tried to grab her arm, but a large figure from behind knocked me aside. One foot stumbled over the other, but I managed to right myself before someone else knocked me onto my hands and knees. “Shit!”

  With excited roars, everyone else rushed forward, placing dozens of people, human and fae alike, between my sister and me. I couldn’t find her anywhere. The peacekeepers fired warning flares into the sky, but the throng continued toward the dock.

  My pulse throbbed in my ears as I scrambled to my feet and shoved my way through the crowd. But with everyone packed so tightly, there were no convenient gaps.

  “Bloody hell!” I ran around the side of the mass of people, toward the peacekeepers, who huddled around their captain, presumably working out what to do next.

  A scream pierced the air, followed by the loud splash of someone falling into the saltwater, which made the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. All kinds of monsters dwelled in this part of the Irish Sea—sirens, merfolk, kelpies. That scream couldn’t have been Sicily. She knew better than to brave the water’s edge.

  Picking up my pace, I rushed forward, but a short peacekeeper intercepted me with his arm outstretched. “It’s dangerous over there, Miss.”

  I side-stepped, but he blocked my path. A frustrated growl stuck in my throat. “Aren’t you going to save the person who fell?”

  Behind the visor of his helmet, his brows drew together. “What? The ogre?”

  “Make way for the Royal Guard!” boomed a voice from the sky.

  “Wha—” I spun around, a breath catching in the back of my throat.

  A white carriage flew toward us from the direction of the Mound, pulled by a quartet of winged horses whose white coats sparkled in the morning sun. Above iridescent hair that shimmered like silk, the horses wore crowns of crystal.

  Everyone, including the peacekeepers, fell to their knees and bowed their heads. King Oberon or Queen Titania usually rode in those carriages. And no one, not even the United Nations, would dare risk the wrath of the fae royals.

  Ignoring the cobblestones digging into my shins, I glanced across the dock for signs of Sicily but couldn’t find her in the crowd of kneeling and bowing people.

  The clip-clop of silver horseshoes hitting the ground told me that the first of the vehicles had landed, and the zing of power making my skin tingle told me that its passenger was definitely a member of the royal family.

  Sicily crawled to my side. “Who do you think is in there?”

  “Where did you come from?” I asked.

  “I heard the splash and wanted to make sure it wasn’t you in the sea.”

  “Thanks.” I squeezed her arm.

  A pair of guardsmen in pristine, white livery scurried out from behind the carriage and straightened their tall hats. One of them opened the door, letting out a male faerie with blond hair as dazzling as the afternoon sun. He wore the uniform of the Royal Fae Academy of a burgundy blazer and black pants. I would have wondered who he was, but I couldn’t help staring at his full, kissable lips.

  “Oh, my lord,” whispered Sicily. “It’s Prince August.”

  I gulped. Tall, tanned, and beautifully built under that uniform, this was the heir to the Summer Court and reportedly the most handsome of the four princes. At this distance, it wasn’t difficult to see why with those high cheekbones, strong jaw, and eyes as green as key limes.

  Behind him stepped Prince Caulden, heir to the Winter Court. Both brothers were the same age as me—eighteen—but looked older. Their features were identical except the Winter prince’s skin was as pale as alabaster, and his hair was cotton-candy blue. Prince Caulden turned in our direction and fixed us with eyes as hard as steel.

  A jolt of fear shot through my heart. I ducked my head and muttered, “What on earth are they doing here?”

  Sicily flicked her head toward the waterfront, where an ogre raised his massive body from the lower dock and produced the Apple box. I studied the logo and frowned.

  “Clear a path.” Prince Caulden waved his hand, and a line of frost stretched from his feet to the box.

  Without a word, everyone shuffled out from under the thin ice. I clenched my teeth and turned my gaze to the peacekeepers, urging them to speak up, to tell them that these consignments were gifts for us, the humans.

  But they remained silent, as did everyone else.

  Resentment burned through my sinuses. The chances of that box containing an iPad were low, but it was the principal. Those Princes split their time between their fancy academy and the palace and never had to work. They ate from golden plates and lived in luxury while the likes of us survived in slums and lived on the charity of the UN.

  I clamped my lips together. Less than half a century ago, a human could be struck blind for speaking out against a high faerie. Who knew what would happen now if I defied one of the princes? My life wasn’t worth an iPad or whatever was in that box.

  “Fetch the special consignment,” said Prince August, his voice brimming with excitement.

  He gestured to one of his guardsmen, who walked through the crowd of kneeling commoners. From the lack of points in his ears, he was probably a half-breed like Elijah, my… I shook away thoughts of my sort-of boyfriend and glared at the guard’s back.

  The ogre fetched five more boxes, and the guards pushed the pile over the ice and into a second carriage. When the door slammed shut, I turned back to where the ogre continued piling boxes on the wharf. None of them had the apple silhouette.

  As Prince August stepped into the carriage, Prince Caulden lingered for a moment longer, his lips curling into a cold smile. “As you were.”

  We all remained silent, watching the horses launch themselves into the air and the carriages fly back toward the Mound. As soon as they were out of earshot, I muttered, “So much for those iPads.”

  Grumbles filled the air, and the crowd rushed toward the floating container. I pulled myself to my feet and helped Sicily up.

  With a thud, a wet ogre landed from the dock and up to the wharf and threw up lungfuls of water, but everyone’s attention was on another ogre carrying boxes from the container.

  “There’s no more of them Apple boxes!” he bellowed.

  Shouts of outrage spread across the wharf, and I shook my head, swallowing the bitterness rising to the back of my throat. It was common knowledge that the cream of the UN deliveries went to the royals, but this was the first time I’d heard of them braving the saltwater to steal from right under our noses.

  “Everybody out!” The peacekeeper sergeant shot a flare into the sky, which exploded a cloud of orange gas.

  His soldiers pointed rifles at the crowd. Everybody scattered. Iron might be deadly to the fae, but pellets flying at bullet-speed were equally as harmful to humans.

  Sicily and I trudged up Knockout Hill. By now, the sun had risen above the sea, casting its light on the Mound, a series of mountains that stretched the entire length of the Isle of Fae. Snaefell Palace stood at its highest pinnacle, overlooking the castles and mansions of the high fae who lived in the exclusive Prudence district.

  “I guess rumors spread fast,” Sicily said in a tight voice.

  Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, I gave her a comforting squeeze. “They’ll feel like a bunch of dickheads when they realize that they went to all this trouble to steal apples.”

  Her eyes bulged. “What makes you think it was fruit?”

  “There were two leaves on that apple logo and no bite.”

  “So?”

  “Do you remember that DVD of the Kardashians where Kris was making up invitations for the Christmas Eve party? They were using Apple macs, and the logo was completely different from the ones on the boxes.”

  Sicily paused, her brows furrowing. A moment later, she broke into a smile. “Promise?”

  I grinned and stuck up two fingers, confirming the number of le
aves. “Totally.” I looped my arm through hers, and we walked back up Knockout Hill. “Elijah’s coming round tonight with the latest DVD of Real Housewives. If there’s anything worthwhile on that cargo, he’ll make sure we get a share.”

  Chapter 2

  At this time of the morning, vendors teemed through the town of Doolish, loading their goods through the cobbled streets onto their wooden stalls. Doolish was the largest human settlement in the Isle of Fae. It was nothing like the stately, white buildings occupying the highest levels of the Mound or anything like the grand mansions or high-rises from the DVDs of the outside world.

  The only way to describe our town was ramshackle. Ancient stone buildings stood next to wood-framed structures in a hodgepodge of styles. We stopped to say good morning to Mrs. Yates, the magazine lady.

  “Unity, Sicily!” She stepped out from behind the stall with her usual beaming smile. “What do you fancy reading today?”

  “Do you have any Vogue?” asked Sicily.

  She pulled a box out from under her trestle table and rifled through its contents. “One of Lady Thistle’s girls brought in a batch the other day.”

  “How recent are they?”

  “The latest is only six months old.” She pulled out a copy with Madonna lying in the bath.

  Sicily poked me in the ribs and grinned.

  I grinned back. Elijah had copied every Madonna CD ever released, and we danced to her music all the time on the DVD player. “How much for two days?”

  “I’ll lend you a dozen for a fortnight if you can lend me Real Housewives of Atlanta for a week. I want to see the blonde one get her wig pulled off.”