Veiled Fae: A Why Choose Fantasy Romance (Fractured Fae Book 2)

by Jarica James

  We continue down the barren, stone hallway, our heads pivoting like owls as we pass each open doorway. I’m not sure if I think I’ll see another ghost or a trap, but we’re all remaining vigilant. The Winter King wasn’t only sadistic, but also cunning, and I have a feeling we haven’t seen anything yet.

  Chapter 6

  “We should probably just find a suite for the night. I fully suggest we stay together," I announce after we turned down what feels like the millionth corridor. My feet are aching and my eyes have that gritty tired feeling. The tension from walking among the spirits and the long day are finally taking a toll… I’m beyond exhausted.

  We haven’t found any new signs of life or noise, but the castle is so big that I doubt we will unless we close in on it. The search might take us days. My chest aches at the thought of my lovers and friend frozen for that long, but there’s nothing else we can do.

  “Agreed," Jacob says in answer to my previous suggestion, using his whiny voice he only gets when he’s completely exhausted. I link arms with him and we stumble down the hallway behind Wyn. After the third room, he finds a library with an attached restroom.

  “This could work?” he asks tentatively, as he looks to us for approval. Jacob doesn’t bother to answer, instead he stalks towards one of the fluffy couches and face plants onto it, softly snoring within seconds.

  “He’ll be out for the night now,” I reassure Gerwyn.

  Shaking my head at Jacob’s ability to fall asleep so quickly, I grab the remaining cushions from the other couches and chairs until I have a big enough bed for Gerwyn and I to share. There’s no way I’m sleeping alone while those creepy spirits stalk the halls. I’ll be lucky if I don’t have nightmares of them watching us sleep.

  “I need a minute,” I tell him before slipping into the restroom. Once inside I lean against the sink, taking a moment to just breathe. The intensity of the day is finally hitting me and I can’t shake the insane amount of guilt weighing me down. Especially now that we’re about to crash for the night, indoors and warm. But Gerwyn reassured me that the spell would keep them alive and I trust him, he’d never risk his brothers.

  After using the restroom and splashing water on my face, I finally return to the room. Gerwyn is already snoring softly on our makeshift bed so I don’t hesitate to crawl in next to him.

  As soon as I snuggle into Gerwyn’s side, I fall asleep within minutes, not even having time to overthink.

  We wake the next morning to sunshine streaming through the windows. None of us waste time on small talk, instead we take turns getting ready and putting the cushions back where we found them.

  Needing to eat something, for energy if nothing else, we sit at the small table nearby. Dormy drinks from a bottle cap and nibbles on crumbs while we eat a bit of our supplies. We never eat much, unsure when we’ll be able to get back home.

  We continue to sit in silence as we eat, the mood somber and anxious. I contemplate the best plan for the day… I’m leaning toward running through the halls shouting and making noise to see if anyone steps forward to investigate. It would save a lot of time at least, even if it’s not very wise. I don’t think Gerwyn will agree to that particular plan and I have to hold back a giggle as I imagine the look on his face if I tried it.

  “We could run around the castle and yell. I bet someone will come out and talk then," Jacob says with a smirk, glancing at Gerwyn.

  “I thought the same thing in my head," I manage to get my words out, despite my laughter. Gerwyn is smiling but giving us a look that tells us just how crazy he thinks we are, and he’s just too polite to say it.

  “We will…uh...keep that in mind. Until then I think we should check the kitchens, throne room, and tower greenhouse," Gerwyn suggests with a small laugh.

  “Fine," Jacob says dramatically. He’s attempting to lighten our mood and I appreciate him for it. “Mine would be quicker, even if we wouldn’t survive.”

  “If you’re going to bring logic into this Wyn, who are we to refuse?” I joke as we re-packed our bags and I put Dormouse in his pocket. He squeaks at the other two until they acknowledge him.

  “What happened to the quiet mouse he was before?” Jacob laughs as he finally greets him properly.

  “He has evolved into a fae mouse, plus he is the queen’s personal tiny companion, it gives a mouse confidence," I give him one more pat before walking out of the room.

  “I’m not familiar with the layout of the castle, but it will become more ornate as we get closer to the throne room. This is far too tame for the king’s tastes. My guess is it was reserved for guests, his petty way of showing them that he’s far superior to them. But we’ll find the kitchens near the greenhouse, and the greenhouses will be in one of the taller towers." Gerwyn’s voice trails behind me and I slow down to let them both catch up.

  We walk down far too many hallways to count before I notice the décor and carpeting becoming more luxurious. The torches along the walls swiftly change from carved wood, to silver. The carpets and rugs are more plush, the walls polished even despite the years abandoned. Artwork starts to mark the previous empty walls and hope sparks in my chest that we’re making some progress.

  The souls are more prominent in this part of the castle as well, which makes walking a bit more difficult. They weave in and out of our small group like we’re the nuisance here. The icy chill so constant at this point I’ve just become one with the cold.

  “Gerwyn, is this normal? Shouldn’t most of them have passed on by now?” I whisper, slowing down to walk beside him. He wraps his arm around my shoulders, calming my nerves with just his touch. I love that he always seems to pick up on my moods so easily.

  “No, they shouldn’t be here, especially not this many. I’ve never seen them congregate en masse like this. Stay alert, we’re definitely getting closer to whoever is around," he whispers, turning to Jacob and making sure he heard too.

  “What kind of person would attract ghosts like this?” I ask, shifting to the side to avoid another run-in with one.

  “Mass death,” he says darkly.

  “They have to be left from the war then, right?” Jacob asks. But I know in my gut that they’re not just leftover, that something else is in play. The wards, the spirits… we’re about to face something powerful. A sense of foreboding is constantly weighing down my psyche, and it’s not just from my men being frozen.

  The prospect of answers has Jacob pulling several feet ahead of us, peering in each room as he passes by.

  “Guys!” he whisper-yells at us and the unease in his voice stops me from replying. Instead, I give Gerwyn a nervous look before I rush up to him and peer into the room.

  Jacob found the throne room.

  There’s no mistaking the overly ornate room before us. Every inch seems to be covered in marble and silver, from the throne to the floors, to the large fireplace behind it.

  But the room isn’t the startling part. That was the old fae sitting on the throne, muttering to himself in rapid fire. He doesn’t see us or acknowledge our presence, continuing his quiet tirade. Not wanting to alert him, I put a gentle hand on Dormy, willing him to remain silent. One indignant squeak and we’ll be seen.

  “How was he able to survive here?” I ask Gerwyn. When he doesn’t answer me, I turn around and glance up at him. The look on his face has my blood running cold. “What is it?” The alarm in my voice has Jacob whipping his head around to stare at Gerwyn as well. He’s frozen in place, a mask of shock and fear that doesn’t help calm my nerves.

  “The King of Winter still lives?” Gerwyn’s voice is full of disbelief and pure hatred. “How dare he kill our world for his power trip, and then somehow survive?”

  “I see! I have visitors!” A booming voice rings out from behind Jacob, the man somehow already across the room. I reach for Jacob and yank him out of the way of the evil king.

  Not just a king, but my grandfather.

  We all turn and glare at him with equal looks of hatred.


  I definitely did not hit the genetic lottery.

  When he doesn’t speak

  “I am Queen Arabella of all of Faerie. And you are?” I ask in what I hope is my best confident and regal voice. It doesn't shake, so I count that as a win. Internally, I’m terrified. We have no clue what to expect from this man, other than malice.

  “You dare insult the King of Winter? You look to be a disgusting hybrid," his voice holds every ounce of disgust he can muster as his eyes zone in on my hair and skin tone. Odd, I thought they didn’t have hybrids. How could he recognize me as one?

  “Well, Grandfather, I am a hybrid and that is why the Spirits of Faerie have spoken with me and are helping me restore the lands. The amazing pearly skin is just a bonus," I reply, smirking at the look of pure shock and horror on his weathered face. I probably shouldn’t be poking at this clearly deranged man, but my hatred for him is getting the best of me.

  Now that he’s silent and I’m feeling a bit calmer, I can see a few similarities in our features. He has skin a similar shade to mine, only without the iridescence to it. I have his nose, but his features are much more angular, which doesn’t do him any favors. He looks worn down and haggard, with his wrinkled skin and unkempt appearance. Plus, he was talking to himself when we found him, so he’s clearly mentally unwell. How could he not be after all these years he’s spent alone.

  “I think you broke him, Queenie," Jacob chuckles quietly. His words seem to shake the former king out of his quiet stupor.

  “You are no family of mine and you are not welcome here. You will make a beautiful addition to my collection, though. Spirits, bind them!” he commands in an imperious voice that echoes along the high ceilings. We instinctively press closer together, daggers held in a fighting position and ready for whatever the spirits plan to do.

  “Do weapons hurt them?” I hiss over at Gerwyn, hoping he has the answers.

  “No, everyone use your magic," he advises, magic already sparking at the tops of his fingers. My sweet and quiet knight is no longer here, instead he’s replaced by a cold-eyed warrior. I’m just thankful he’s on my side, Gerwyn is a bit scary when he’s battle ready.

  I can feel the spirits before I can see them.

  The temperature drops at least forty degrees and a buzz of magic flits across my skin that’s definitely not my own. It feels different, almost muted in comparison. Like it’s coming from far away despite how close the icy beings are to us.

  A cloud of magic slowly converges on our group, thick in the air and making it hard to breathe or focus. My own magic recedes in its presence and I don’t like the feeling of helplessness it gives me. Even if my magic still works, it will likely not help. I may be stronger than the average Fae, but I’m hardly strong or skilled enough to take on an entire evil, soul army. Not to mention controlling my magic is still an issue, despite Emrick’s best efforts. Real control takes time and that’s something we don’t have unfortunately.

  The souls look just as creepy as the first spirits we saw, but these have a crackling electricity flowing through their smoky bodies. They are made mostly of shadows and smoke, with glowing aqua eyes. I can feel the malice and dark energy emanating from them even from a hundred feet away. They’re now coming from both directions and closing in fast.

  Closing my eyes, I bring my magic to my hands, relieved when it responds. I lash out with whatever type of magic I can think of. The first row of spirits stagger back at the mixed assault, but they’re angry and ready, bouncing back in two seconds. Somehow the king is controlling them and using their anger as a weapon. The real question is how is he doing it?

  Gerwyn is fighting the horde right next to me. His blasts of icy winds join mine, creating a tornado of ice and power. Jacob launches small fireballs at them with impressive accuracy, clearly his training with Andras has paid off.

  We’ve gotten through at least ten soldiers when I feel Jacob wavering next to me, his limited magical essence already spent. Knowing he’ll need a moment to recover, I push all of the magic I have at the next wave of souls, trying to knock out the next layer.

  As the fight goes on, Jacob loses the battle with his energy. Unfortunately, I can’t stop my assault to catch him as he falls, so I have no choice but to let him collapse onto the floor. If we make it through this, then I can help him. But now I can’t even blink without getting zapped, so I keep my eyes on the battle.

  Slowly we carve away at the crowd, spirits popping out of existence the moment we land a powerful attack. The issue is there are so many that it doesn’t seem to matter just yet. My hope is wavering, but I refuse to think about it. If I took even a second to mull this over, I’d lose not only my focus, but my confidence.

  Gerwyn and I are a formidable team, our magic working together effortlessly. The spirits however aren’t losing their energy at all, coming at us wave after wave. It’s almost like the king has another source of power to feed off of, which is startling.

  Part of me struggles with the idea of snuffing out the spirits. They didn’t deserve what the war did to them, and they certainly don’t deserve to be used by a psychotic former king. But the reality of our situation is that it’s life or death for us and if that means ending spirits, so be it. I just wanted us to make it out of this throne room alive.

  “Kill the abominations!” the king yells, his constant jeepers fueling the fight even more. If I could send an attack his way I would, knocking him on his ass would be a major bonus.

  My anger fuels my attack now, giving me better focus. Copying Gerwyn’s magic, I force mine to join the icy storm he’s brewing, making the swirling magic even more volatile.

  “Stay strong, beautiful," Gerwyn’s voice is strained, but determined. We’re down to only ten spirits left and they aren’t giving up easily. With Jacob already slumped to the ground, I’m losing hope and getting desperate. The king is maniacally laughing at our struggles, believing he has already won. He doesn’t know us though, we'll never stop fighting to get our family back.

  In one last ditch effort to save ourselves, I draw all of the power I have left in my body and throw it out with as much force as I can muster. The force knocks back the horde and the king in one blast of energy.

  The spirits disappear, the room clearing for a moment before another wave pops into existence. My heart drops at the sight, the new spirits moving closer as I waver on my feet. The hollow feeling in my gut letting me know my magic usage is over… along with our battle.

  “Gerwyn. I want you to know that even if we lose this battle, I will find you guys and I will save you somehow. He still needs me to restore his land and will use you as leverage. I won’t stop searching for a way to end this. I will end this," I vow vehemently, turning to him and lowering my hands. I have nothing left to fight with now, except one small dagger.

  “I believe you, beautiful," he says simply, pulling me close and kissing me hard. A slow clapping sound interrupts us, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction. I continue to kiss my knight, pouring every ounce of fear, love, determination, and fight I have into it.

  The king makes a noise of shock and protest, but I just flip him my middle finger and continue kissing my knight. He’s just as exhausted, his magic fizzling out in his hands.

  I can practically hear the steam flowing from the king’s ears as he fumes over our lack of respect. Frankly, he deserves less than we’ve given, he’s an evil, despicable man who used the dead for his own personal whims.

  “Enough of this nonsense, take her to the dungeon!” he bellows imperiously.

  “Why do they always have to have a dungeon?” I groan as I stare into Gerwyn’s eyes. He looks every bit as terrified and determined as I feel, but doesn’t respond. In his eyes I can read how he feels. His love for me is humbling, strong and unwavering despite the fear surrounding it at the moment. I try to show him the same. He meant so much to me and I prayed to the Spirits that they’d protect him even if I couldn’t.

  The horde closes in on us, t
he hairs on my body standing to attention as the static envelops me. Gerwyn’s violet eyes are the last thing I see before a blast of magic sends me into unconsciousness.

  The king may have won this battle, but he would lose the war. My family means everything to me, and I’ll do everything in my power to win them back. The former king of winter, my evil grandfather, better be ready for the reckoning I’m going to rain down on him.

  Chapter 7

  It’s impossible to tell how much time has passed, but when I finally wake from my forced slumber I’m lying on a cold, hard floor and surrounded by pure darkness. The only thing I can make out is a tiny light emanating from glowing mushrooms that are thriving in the corner of whatever room I was in. Likely a cell in the dungeon knowing my grandfather.

  I’m not usually afraid of the dark, but not being able to see in an unknown place is horrifying. It’s silent, but that hardly means anything in Faerie. Though with Winter not being restored, at least I knew some giant rat wasn’t about to feast on my frozen flesh.

  My magic is still completely depleted, though I attempt a ball of light anyway. The magic fizzles out without producing more than a small spark and it takes everything in me not to throw up from the effort. My stomach churns angrily and had there been food in it, I’m sure it would have been far worse.

  Forcing myself to stay calm, I slowly stand from the hard floor. Once on my feet I take a moment to assess myself for injuries. Being unconscious and at their mercy is not something I want to think about too hard. The fact I’m alone without my two companions is even worse.

  Other than soreness, I’m mainly just thirsty and hungry. Taking deep breaths, I quiet my panicked breathing and listen for any noises. My effort is only met with intense, uninterrupted silence. The deafening quiet surrounding me unnerves me even more.