Cruel Fortunes Omnibus:
Includes:
Cursed be the Crown
Mischievous are the Spelled
Mysterious as the Temple
Twisted like her Fate
What do a modern-day bibliophile, a nineteenth-century princess, a roaring twenties flapper, an eighteenth-century bride, and the daughter of a sixteenth-century witch all have to do with one another? One-click this series to find out.
What would you do if you woke up in someone else’s life? Join Sophia Marcil on her wild Indiana Jones-meets-Cinderella-style adventure as she navigates time, explores new love, and attempts to evade a killer.
RAE STAPLETON
______________________________
Copyright © 2017 Rae Stapleton
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is coincidental.
Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance:
Keepers of the Dead
Book 1: Stroke of Midnight
Book 2: Midnight Shudders
Academy Spinoff Series:
Arcanum Academy of the Darling Dreadfuls
Book 1: Of Witches & Werewolves
Book 2: Of Foul Play & Fae
Contents
Book One: Cursed be the Crown PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-SEVEN
THIRTY-EIGHT
THIRTY-NINE
FORTY
Epilogue
Book Two: Mischievous are the Spelled ONE
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-THREE
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-SEVEN
THIRTY-EIGHT
THIRTY-NINE
FORTY
FORTY-ONE
FORTY-TWO
FORTY-THREE
FORTY-FOUR
FORTY-FIVE
FORTY-SIX
FORTY-SEVEN
Book Three: Mysterious is the Temple PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTY-FIVE
TWENTY-SIX
TWENTY-SEVEN
TWENTY-EIGHT
TWENTY-NINE
THIRTY
THIRTY-ONE
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-TWO
THIRTY-FOUR
THIRTY-FIVE
THIRTY-SIX
THIRTY-EIGHT
THIRTY-NINE
FORTY
FORTY-ONE
FORTY-TWO
FORTY-THREE
FORTY-FOUR
FORTY-FIVE
FORTY-EIGHT
FORTY-NINE
FIFTY-ONE
FIFTY-TWO
FIFTY-SIX
FIFTY-SEVEN
FIFTY-EIGHT
FIFTY-NINE
SIXTY
SIXTY-ONE
SIXTY-TWO
SIXTY-THREE
SIXTY-FOUR
SIXTY-SIX
SIXTY-SEVEN
SIXTY-EIGHT
SIXTY-NINE
SEVENTY
SEVENTY-ONE
SEVENTY-TWO
SEVENTY-THREE
SEVENTY-FOUR
SEVENTY-FIVE
EPILOGUE
Book Four: Twisted like her Fate PROLOGUE
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
TWELVE
THIRTEEN
FOURTEEN
FIFTEEN
SIXTEEN
SEVENTEEN
EIGHTEEN
NINETEEN
TWENTY
TWENTY-ONE
TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-THREE
TWENTY-FOUR
TWENTYFIVE
TWENTYSIX
TWENTYSEVEN
TWENTYEIGHT
TWENTYNINE
THIRTY
THIRTYONE
THIRTYTWO
THIRTYTHREE
THIRTYFOUR
THIRTYFIVE
THIRTYSIX
THIRTYSEVEN
THIRTYEIGHT
THIRTYNINE
FORTY
FORTY-ONE
FORTY-TWO
FORTY-THREE
FORTY-FOUR
FORTY-FIVE
FORTY-SIX
FORTY-SEVEN
FORTY-EIGHT
FORTY-NINE
FIFTY
FIFTY-ONE
FIFTY-TWO
FIFTY-THREE
FIFTYFOUR
FIFTYFIVE
FIFTYSIX
FIFTYSEVEN
FIFTYEIGHT
FIFTYNINE
SIXTY
SIXTYONE
SIXTYTWO
SIXTYTHREE
SIXTYFOUR
SIXTYFIVE
SIXTYSIX
SIXTYSEVEN
SIXTYEIGHT
SIXTYNINE
SEVENTY
EPILOGUE
Authors Note:
Book One: Cursed be the Crown PROLOGUE
The Witches Lair, Hunedoara, Romania, 1494
T
he east wing of the castle had fewer windows and backed onto a heavily forested area which meant that it lacked access to sunlight, which was perfectly fine with Alexandra Cuza. It allowed her to slip through the shadows without notice.
Hauling her skirt above her knees, she quickly and quietly moved through the hallways, thinking of the curse she was about to write. Her cowl slipped off her head as she glanced back. She could feel that someone was chasing her. With her aunt’s stolen grimoire tucked safely under her arm, the possibilities were endless. She looked forward to making them all pay.
She climbed the stairs two at a time. After two floors, the staircase turned into a neat spiral leading into the tower. This was where she’d studied the dark arts. Only her own mother knew of this passage. The stairs met with a heavy medieval door and she pushed it open. Cobwebs, books, skewed shelves and crystals—all of her favorite things. Gathering her courage, she took out the book and ran her fingers over the family crest. A chill moved down her spine as she picked up the quill. Her aunt, the high-priestess would be furious when she found it missing. Would she know where to look. Of course, she would. She would simply summon it. Maybe she already had. Oh well, Alexandra would worry about her wrath later.
A curse—that was what she needed to write. She glanced down at the dusty, yellowed page and imagined the scenario. She’d lost everything and they needed to feel the way she felt. This curse needed to be painful and never-ending but how best to do it. She would intensify his obsession but she couldn’t have her husband and the trollop together. No, no, that would never do. She would need to shift things.
She picked up the sapphire from her desk and rubbed it between her hands. It hummed and warmed. The sapphire was her power boosting charm. All of her excess magic was channeled there. She would need to use its magic to cast the spell. Footsteps echoed from outside the tower door. Her aunt must have flown here. The tower’s cloak of invisibility would only hold so long. She was out of time. Before she could think things through or allow her aunt to change her mind, Alexandra picked up the quill and dipped it in ink. Naming the curse was the hardest: Twisted Like Her Fate. After that the spell flowed. Now to cast. Turning her attention back to the grimoire, she picked it up and balanced it in the crook of her arm so she could read the words aloud as she paced.
“Fac eos nocere. Make them hurt. Facite illos sentire sicut dolor meus. Make them feel as I do.”
By the third line when she called upon her sisters of the night, a witch wind had appeared out of nowhere, whirling like a tornado about the room. She could almost hear the walls humming, and despite someone pushing at the edge of her brain, telling her to stop, hatred spurned her on and she continued. Just as she uttered the final word, an unbearable pain shot through her head. She dropped the book and the stone and screamed out in agony.
Her aunt had arrived and she was glaring disapprovingly from the doorway.
ONE
A s I placed two pumpkin spice lattes on the roof of my mom’s vintage green Spitfire, I noticed a black bird circling overhead. A raven, maybe, or was it a crow? It was sweeping through the sky above me, its dark wings spread wide—circling the quaint historic campus building.
“Morning, Sophia,” someone shouted from Gordon Hall next door. I looked up, startled, and recognized my English Professor from last semester. Waving back, I almost knocked the coffee from the roof.
I righted it, grabbed my bookbag from my seat and slammed the door—a little too hard I might add, almost spilling the coffee once again. Not my day.
Gathering the cardboard drink holder, I headed up the path to the stairs of the neo-gothic building that housed the academy’s massive vault-ceilinged library. A gush of wind shook the branches of the nearby trees as if in offense to my noise and sent a sprinkling of red and yellow leaves to the ground. Oh, October, you gorgeous moody thing, you. I loved this time of year, the town was awash in pumpkins, and autumn leaf garland.
An older woman in a wrap dress the color of nightshade opened the heavy wooden door for me as I approached. Her bright blue eyes stared at me, they were so light that they almost looked unnatural—or perhaps it was the color in contrast to the black ring that encircled it. Either way she appeared supernatural.
She touched my shoulder as I passed, sending chills scurrying up my spine. “G’morning, dear.”
“M-morning,” I stuttered back, pausing nervously to search my brain for recognition. I’d met a lot of people here in the last two years but I could usually place a name with a face.
“You’re going on a trip soon?” She whispered. I rolled my shoulders, more or less conceding. Her eyes pierced mine, and I wondered how she knew that. “Beware the stone. You mustn’t touch it.”
“Pardon?”
The stone, dear. It’s death to you in every life.”
“What—?” I started to question when Leslie Lovari shouted.
“Morning, Sophia!” She was standing over one of the study tables not far away. “Great day for a murder, isn’t it?” She was holding up what I assumed was a Halloween decoration—a fake knife covered in blood. Two of the students laughed along with her. Leslie was in her early twenties, four years older than me but one of the youngest people to work in the Rare Books and Special Collections Department. She was also my best friend.
I did my best to smile although I was still sketched out.
“Come in and set that down before you burn yourself,” she scolded.
I turned to finish my conversation but she was gone.
“Who was that woman?” I asked, following Leslie as we headed upstairs to the vaulted cathedral-like reading room which everyone had nicknamed the Harry Potter Room because of its resemblance to Hogwarts. Leslie, who was now busily organizing books, adjusted the collar of her turtleneck sweater.
“What woman?” she asked, confusing me even more. How could Leslie have missed the woman holding the door for me. “Sophia! Set that stuff down before you burn yourself.”
I took her advice, and set my book bag as well as the drink tray down on the study table, pulling one coffee out at a time. I glanced from the door to Leslie. “Sophia, why are you looking at me like I have a jack-o-lantern for a head?”
I shook the cobwebs from my brain. “Aww, jinkies Les. I don’t know.” I teased, deciding not to pursue the mysterious woman’s identity. I suddenly couldn’t even remember what she looked like. Trying to describe her would only make me sound crazy. “I pointed to her corduroy skirt. “I guess I was just trying to guess today’s style icon. Is it Thelma from Scooby-Doo or Sabrina the Teenage Witch?
“Oh, bug off,” she said, picking up a half-eaten sugar cookie.
Nutmeg spiced the air in a most familiar way. “What are you eating?”
“A homemade Halloween cookie compliments of your fabulous great grandmother.” She knocked the crumbs from her top.
“Did you stay at the lake house with her last night?” Leslie was like an adopted family member. She spent as much time with my great grandmother as I did.
“No, she dropped them off this morning. She’s probably still in town grabbing groceries if you want to see her.”
“Actually, I’m headed there next. I need to pick up a few things before I take off to France. I just stopped in to return some books.” I pulled them from my bag.
“Nice,” she said, picking the top one up. I’ll scan them in for you when I head back downstairs. “I still can’t believe you’re going to miss this year’s masquerade ball at the mansion. I hate that I have to go without you.”
“Oh, you’ll be fine. You’ll have the Olsen twins to keep you company.”
Leslie smirked.
The Olsen twins was our little nickname for the twins Leslie had just started dating. At first it had been a joke because both brothers were chasing after her and she couldn’t decide which one she liked better. But now it was getting serious and kinky from what she’d told me, apparently the brothers didn’t want her to choose. They preferred to date the sam
e person.”
“Hey, did you see the pumpkins on the haystack downtown? Man, I love Halloween!”
“I did. They look great. Did you carve all of them?”
“No, I had help from some of the freshman—we did a Jack Daniels & Jack O’Lanterns night at the pub. I was hungover but they loved it. Speaking of love. Nice hair. When did you lighten it?”
I ran my fingers through the long golden blonde strands. All my life I’d been a brunette, this blonde thing was going to take some getting used to. My great-grandmother, Veronika Jackson, whom I affectionately referred to as Gigi hadn’t seen it yet. She was going to have a fit. “Yesterday. I needed a change.”
“Another change? Wasn’t quitting school in your third year, change enough? Gigi’s still complain—.” She pointed to an old book that looked to be bound in marbled calfskin and her words trickled off as she turned it over and back. “Hey! This one isn’t ours. You must have brought it in my mistake.”
“Huh?” I said, flipping it over and back. “How did that get in there?” I laid it on top of the desk and bent over to inspect the symbol on the cover. It was circle with the letter L in the center and on either there was a moon. Oddly enough, I had dreamed about it not long ago. “I-I didn’t bring that in,” I said, as I reached out and touched the light brown leather. Heat and goose flesh erupted on my skin and then spread across my shoulders, straining the muscles in my neck. The sensation died quickly but left unease in its wake.
“Well, you must have. You just pulled it from your bag.”
“I don’t remember packing it? I wonder how it got in there.” I whispered, then thought of the fake knife downstairs. “It looks suspiciously like a spell book—a grimoire, doesn’t it? Are you playing a prank on me? Is this some sort of prop for Halloween?”
Leslie held out her hands and shook her head, and the pages fluttered to life as if in offense to my comment.
I glanced around in search of an open window but there was none. The page where it had stopped: To Change Fate. Ad mutare fata.
“Is there a window open? Are you punking me?
“No. I swear I’m not. It was probably a fan or something. I can put it in the Special Collections Room for safe keeping if you want.”
I nodded. “Yeah, you keep it for now. I think it likes you.”
Leslie laughed. “Oh, I was actually supposed to call you and see if you could swing by. The Chief wants to talk to you.”
“Really? About what?”
“Beats me, but I heard someone just got fired, so maybe she wants to hire you? You did do really well with your internship.”
“Doubt it.”
“Please, Sophia, you know more about this place than most of the senior staff.”
Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four Page 1
