Betrayal and Yearning: A Fantasy Romance (Changeling Desires Series Book 1)

by Eve Redmayne

  Brindle and Bessy had fought tears when Braum informed them about Klieg’s predicament. Which shifted to outrage when he’d stated he and Jessica wouldn’t be living at the keep, but rather in his hunting lodge. In the end, they’d accepted his plan with resigned smiles. They promised to look after Klieg’s well-being and let them know if he took a turn for the worse.

  Jessica’s eyes focused as they drew further down the hillside, spotting where their paths would soon diverge. Theirs headed toward the eastern foothills and Willow’s into the woods. A pang hit her heart.

  “I’m cursed,” Willow began, breaking into Jessica’s reverie. “Like my mother and her mother before her, we follow the same damned path. As the only daughter following six sons, my life will be short-lived and most assuredly filled with suffering.” She sighed and looked toward the heavens before confessing, “I was hoping to discover a way to rid myself of the curse through Jessica, which is why I kept you around, though you were a danger to everyone.” She shrugged then, green eyes going hard. “But have failed.”

  “Oh gosh, is there anything I can do?” Jessica asked, brows knit. She couldn’t believe Willow was voluntarily talking about her past.

  “No, it is what it is. I’m a fool to try and avoid my fate, but don’t worry about me, I’ve not given up hope, yet.” A tremulous smile lifted her freckled cheeks. “Besides, I’ve still got to help you get word to your mother that you’re alright.”

  Braum cleared his throat and both she and Willow faced him. His turn to reveal a long-held secret, he told of his first love, Eadha, the girl who’d chosen him to be her champion over Wycliffe. At the tender age of thirteen, it was both his and Wycliffe’s first junior sparring tournament. He’d worn Eadha’s pink scarf tied around his arm and had beaten all the junior competitors, Wycliffe included. “But,” he sighed, “it wasn’t meant to be. A more mature warrior of fifteen caught her eye, and she left me broken hearted without so much as a single kiss.”

  Jessica patted her horse’s neck as she considered how to heal the rift between Braum and Wycliffe. And wondered what the hell she could do to help Willow banish the curse? But then tucked those thoughts aside, it was her turn to tell a story, so she’d think about it all later. She told about her mom and her childhood, college, and even described her favorite hamburger.

  “You will make me a ham-burger… umm, animal-style, someday won’t you?” Braum asked. “My mouth’s watering, thinking about it.

  “Absolutely,” she agreed and groaned, “if only you had coffee.”

  “We have coffee,” Braum said, sounding confident.

  “Seriously? Why haven’t I had it yet?”

  “My mother prefers tea, and I wasn’t aware you had a taste for it. How about I promise to make you a pot of coffee every morning upon waking.”

  “What more could a woman want?” She grinned. “You’ll earn my undying love and gratitude.”

  “Which I already have.” He smirked. “But I’ll do it regardless. Then because you already have me, you shall have everything your heart desires.”

  He was right, and the man knew it.

  When they parted ways at the fork in the road, Jessica pulled Willow into a fierce hug and promised she’d visit regularly. She and Braum waited until Willow rode out of sight, the bear trudging after her, then continued in the opposite direction.

  “Remember that day in the garden?” Jessica asked, coloring at the memory. “We probably should’ve made our introductions before engaging in a heavy-petting session.”

  Braum chuckled in agreement, and Jessica realized he laughed freely now. Before, he’d been so reserved, only sparing the stingiest grins.

  “You were so beautiful, and I wanted you. I didn’t have time to tell you my name.” His golden eyes traced over her scar, and his smile faded. “But, I want you to know something, you’re more beautiful to me now than even the first day we met.”

  Tears filled her eyes. She hadn’t known she needed to hear those words until now and knew he spoke the truth.

  ***

  “We’re here,” Braum said a couple hours later, voice filled with manly pride, as they crested a small hill. Tucked into the foothills, a pristine meadow opened before them with a timber house, sitting in its center. He wanted her to like the home he provided for them.

  Just then, something shifted in the woods. He turned to scan the area, hand on his sword’s hilt. But his shoulders relaxed as he recognized the dwarven soldiers already posted around the perimeter. Apparently, his parents hadn’t agreed to let them live out in the wilderness, alone. He’d thought they’d given in too easily.

  “It’s beautiful.” Jessica breathed.

  “You can do whatever you want,” he assured. “Paint, plant flowers, take down the animal skulls…”

  “Before we get there,” Jessica nibbled on her lower lip, “I have one more thing to tell you, and it’s a pretty big deal.”

  Braum looked at her gravely and realized he didn’t even see the scar anymore, just the woman he loved. “What is it?” She sounded so serious that he grew concerned. He couldn’t imagine what she needed to tell him. His horse sidled close to her mare as they pulled to a stop.

  “Well, this.” She flung her cloak off, and Braum stared open-mouthed as wings burst free, ripping through the gown’s laces in back to spread wide. He’d noticed a pale mark between her shoulders when they’d made love but had never questioned her about it.

  “I couldn’t be more shocked if you… grew wings.” Braum chuckled warmly, dimples deepening as the dark feathers caught the light of the setting sun. “Woman, you’re full of surprises, and I love you dearly. We’ll never be bored, and that’s a fact.”

  With his wife by his side, Braum looked over his land—a feeling of satisfaction soothing his soul. “I thought I wanted a dwarf as a bride, but gods be praised, I couldn’t be more pleased with my faerie wife if I tried.”

  End

  What’s Coming Up?

  Salt Lake City, Utah—Present Day

  Willow tossed her hair into a low bun and shielded her eyes against the sun’s glare. She took in the people milling about, only a few actually picking up the refuse littering the vacant field and scoffed. So, this was Earth. This was what all the fuss was about. She’d seen better volunteerism at a witch burning.

  She picked up an armful of litter and strode to the dumpster.

  “Nice way to spend a Saturday, huh? Picking up shit,” a woman with unnaturally pink lips said around a smoke. Her kohl-blackened eyes narrowed as she surveyed Willow from her hair, already escaping its confines, down to her new, what had the woman at the shop called them, vintage boots. “Well, for me, anyway. You’re one of those granola types? Probably do this for fun.”

  The woman blew out a thick plume of smoke then crushed the smoke under pointed shoes. “Can’t let my kid find me smoking. He’s the reason I’m here, anyway,” she said out the side of her mouth, obviously unconcerned Willow had yet to utter a sound. “Said all the other kids and their parents would be cleaning up the abandoned lot by the school. Well, seems to me, I’m the only mother here.”

  Willow’s eyes darted to the clusters of people scattered about the lot. Elegant women abounded, similar in appearance to the one hiding in the dumpster’s shadows. Most huddled beside gangly adolescents, as though wishing they could disappear into thin air. Too bad, silly humans, that’s a privilege reserved for witches.

  When Willow still hadn’t responded, the woman straightened her tailored shirt and brushed beringed fingers over calf-length pink pants. “You have a kid here on scholarship?” Then muttered none-too-quietly, “This school’s too progressive for its own good. Always looking to fill their diversity quota.”

  Finally, Willow turned her head up and fixed the noxious woman with a glare. “I’m sure you know best, especially considering the garments you chose to wear to clean up shit. The heels on those shoes look perfect for impaling refuse. Wise choice, indeed.”

  The wo
man sucked in a loud breath.

  But before Willow could fling any more barbed insults, a black SUV pulled into the lot, sending gravel airborne. Though she had almost no experience with automobiles, she knew the sound of that engine. It was the same as the night she’d come through. It was him.

  Willow swallowed hard, said nothing in parting, and fled the opposite direction, papers fluttering in her trail. She glanced back, midstride. The woman with no wrinkles lining her face watched, mouth agape as behind her, the SUV’s door opened.

  Heart pounding, Willow upped the pace and flung herself into the shade of a dilapidated shed. With nowhere else to go, she peeked around the sagging structure and sucked in a breath at the man standing there.

  His head lifted, nostrils flared, and eyes shifted instantly to where she stood.

  Every instinct within raged for her to run. She didn’t know anything about this man. Not his name, not even his race, except that he wasn’t exactly human. But, if nothing else, her senses screamed, predator!

  Her hand rose unbidden to the pulse pounding in her neck, and she shrank low. With every flutter of her heart, she threw off distress calls, like a wounded bird. And like a wounded bird, she was unprepared to defend herself.

  Oh, he looked beautiful enough, but she’d known many a beautiful person in possession of a charred, shell of a soul. Something dark lurked under that casual façade. Now, how to get the hell out of here?

  Taking one more peek before she fled, his head lifted. She stilled like a cornered stag, hoping he’d not notice her. But he stalked forward, a determined look on his face before she could run. His legs ate up the distance between them, and in less time than it took to scream, he stood beside her, a frown creasing his brow.

  The hairs on her arms stood on alert as she strained her neck to consider the face of her menace. As her green eyes met black, those full lips of his lifted into a smile. Here they stood, face to face, and the bringer of her doom was… smiling?

  “This is going to sound asinine, but I saw you across the way and had to come meet you,” he said on a strained chuckle, removed his hat, revealing tousled black hair, and then shoved it back on his head.

  Compelled by an unseen force. A feeling she knew all too well. Did he even know he was hunting her, yet?

  “What’s your name, if you don’t mind me asking,” he asked, after a moment of silence.

  The need to tighten her scarves nigh overwhelmed her. But what was the point? They didn’t protect her any longer, not standing face to face with the very thing she’d sought to escape. Bloody hell, that was the whole reason she’d left Orygin. Fate was a cruel bitch. She’d somehow run straight into the arms of her curse.

  “Barbara,” she managed, though the word came out higher than she’d intended. She cleared her throat and met his dark eyes, refusing to shy away from his curious gaze, though a finger lingered on the fringed edge of a scarf.

  She’d turn this meeting into an opportunity. Assess her rival. Plan a strategy for when he finally understood their linked destiny. Then, hopefully, out-man him. Evade him long enough to get back to Orygin… After all, she didn’t sense magic about him, exactly.

  “Nice to meet you, Barbara, I’m Thorne.”

  Willow blinked when he called her the wrong name, then nodded. The alibi. She forced a brittle smile and tossed the handful of papers, still clutched tightly, into a bucket beside her feet.

  Thorne’s dark eyes shifted at the sudden action. “Oh right, I almost forgot we’re here to clean up. But, no gloves?”

  She tried suppressing the disdainful smile as it pulled on her lips, but knew she’d failed when he asked with a laugh, “What’s that look for?” He pulled a pair of leather gloves from his back pocket and elaborated, “I’m not about to get bitten by a spider.”

  Willow considered the ground, the nooks and crannies where spiders might hide in waiting, eager for a taste of this man’s finger, and shrugged. “I suppose spiders live here, but don’t we deserve a little bite for destroying their homes?”

  He barked another laugh, louder this time, and she looked up in time to see a smile brightening his face. There was something about the way his brown skin and white teeth so perfectly contrasted, that sent her heart aflutter.

  “I guess I can’t argue with that.” He flipped his cap backwards, flattening dark hair against his forehead, and hunkered down. After shooting her a scowl, he grabbed a concrete slab tilted haphazardly against the shed. Biceps straining, he stood, lifting what must be several hundreds of pounds of concrete and tossed it aside.

  It took a moment before her teeth shut with a SNAP and another moment before she found her voice. This display of strength was unsettling, but it wasn’t like her to bite her tongue. She replaced her stunned look with a smirk. “Well, it’s a bit closer to the dumpster, now. Good job, Muscles, I could tell it was heavy.” She found herself patting him on the shoulder and hastily dropped her hand. After a quick step back, she peeked at him through the red curls billowing across her face.

  His eyes widened at the obvious mockery, drawing her gaze to his absurdly long lashes.

  Thorne stretched wide shoulders and reached down to grasp the ragged edges of the slab, once more. With a mighty heave, he brought the piece over his head, carried it all the way to the dumpster, and tossed it in.

  Willow’s stomach tightened as he paused to brush dust from his massive hands. The vision of this man, muscles bulging, in his fitted gray t-shirt and perfectly tight blue jeans, would surely haunt her through eternity.

  One eye on Thorne, chatting casually with a male admirer, Willow reached into her pocket and withdrew a single match. A quick flick of her fingernail against the head and it flamed to life.

  She hesitated long enough to see Thorne smile one final time, all the while mentally chastising herself for such foolishness, then blew the match out. And with that, disappeared, leaving little more than her footprints behind.

  End

  A note from the author

  Thank you for purchasing and reading Betrayal and Yearning. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Making it as an author nowadays means we live and die by reviews. I’d love if you could take a minute and share your thoughts with your fellow readers.

  I couldn’t do this without your support.

  Thanks again,

  Eve

  About the Author

  The author of Betrayal and Yearning and the Changeling Desires series, Eve R. Redmayne, writes deliciously fast-paced fantasy romance. Eve lives high in the Rocky Mountains with two kids who keep her on her toes and an endlessly supportive husband.

  Eve loves hearing from her readers and invites you to visit her websites: www.beatinghearth.blogspot.com and www.everredmayne.com as well as follow her on Instagram: @beatinghearth, Twitter: @Beating_Hearth, and Facebook: www.facebook.com/TheBeatingHearth/