False Queen

by Nikki Jefford

  Table of Contents

  False Queen

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Three Kings Sample

  Nikki News!

  Slaying, Magic Making, Running Wild, and Ruling The World!

  About The Author

  False Queen

  Royal Conquest Saga, Book 2

  NIKKI JEFFORD

  Copyright © 2019 Nikki Jefford

  Cover design by Najla Qamber

  All rights reserved.

  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.

  For anyone who has ever had to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders: May you stay strong and find your own happy ending.

  Chapter One

  Hensley

  R

  ain streaked my small window, flowing sideways with the wind. Despite the chill, I wore jean shorts and a tank top, my long brown hair pulled up in a ponytail. Midnight blue polish coated my nails, flashing like bruises at the ends of my fingertips.

  Heavy metal blasted from my earbuds. An angry melody. Angry words. The wailing voices made up my daily anthem.

  My bedroom was a joke: walls plastered with posters of actors and musicians I used to crush on; crystals dangling in front of the window to reflect rainbows whenever the Seattle sun happened to come out; and a bookshelf lined with dusty dance trophies.

  I lay on top of my old pink bedspread on a daybed with hard springs. Stuffed animals crowded me while I gazed into the cramped confines of my room, music screaming in my ears.

  As I scanned the room yet again, like an endless searchlight spinning through the fog atop a lighthouse, I noticed a poster that hadn’t been there before. A picture of a castle, sharp spires poking into the sky.

  Weird.

  Maybe I’m high.

  The castle had an ominous look, as though it were a weapon poised to rocket into the heavens and rip paradise apart.

  The front door slammed shut down the hall, sending a shock wave of terror through my mind that screamed louder than the heavy metal. My gaze flew to my bedroom door only to find it missing from its hinges. The music stopped playing as though my stepfather’s presence had sucked the batteries from my phone. Only, I didn’t have my phone. Somehow it had moved across my room to the nightstand and my earbuds had disappeared. Silence weighed heavy from every corner and pressed down from the ceiling before Doug filled the frame with his lanky body and oily smile.

  He stared down at me and sneered. “Lazing around as usual.”

  I sat up and hugged my arms around my middle. “I was taking a break,” I said defensively.

  “A break from what? Doing nothing? Sitting around?” Doug sniffed the air. “Have you been smoking in here?”

  “No!” I cried. I wouldn’t be that stupid.

  As he stepped into my bedroom I could almost feel his boot crushing down on me.

  “Give me your phone,” he demanded.

  “Why?” I cried in outrage.

  “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

  I glanced at my nightstand where my phone was charging. Following the movement of my eyes, Doug sprang to action. I tried to beat him to it, but he was already on his feet and had the advantage. He ripped the phone from the charging cord.

  I scrambled off my bed and onto my feet, yelling, “Give it back!”

  Doug held it just out of reach, jamming the home button with his thumb. He glared at the screen then snarled at me.

  “What’s your password?”

  “It’s private!” Angry tears pricked behind my eyelids.

  “I pay for your phone, so you will tell me the password.”

  “My mom pays for it,” I answered in a sassy tone that earned me a slap on the face.

  It stung, but it hadn’t been followed by another or worse, a fist.

  With his free hand, Doug clutched my phone. “Let’s see if I can guess your password. Let’s try whore.” My insides twisted as Doug poked the screen with his finger. “No? How about slut? Not that one either. Maybe a number? Sixty-nine. I’m sure you know all about that position, running around with a new boy every week.”

  “I do not!”

  Doug slapped me again.

  Tears spilled over. I didn’t care about the sting on my cheeks. I hated Doug for hitting me in the first place, for saying all those horrible things, for barging into my small sanctuary.

  Striking me barely interrupted his cruel speech.

  “I know,” he said, his voice lifting. He looked me dead in the eyes as he said, “Zero. Zero. Zero. Zero. Because that’s what you are, Hensley—a whole lot of nothing. A loser. A useless waste of space.”

  The world turned red. My ears rang as pressure built inside me.

  “You’re the loser!” The words burst through my lips like steam from a whistling teakettle. “You can’t even keep a job for more than three days.”

  The room seemed to dip with turbulence and tilt to one side. I almost expected my bed and dresser to go skidding and crash into the wall, but everything remained in place. When I next noticed Doug, it looked as though cracks were forming over his reddened face.

  He threw my phone on the floor and crushed it beneath his boot before raining down blows over me. My head pounded with each hit. He didn’t put his full strength into it. Not yet. I tried to run from my room, but he grabbed me and swung me around.

  I caught sight of the castle poster, and the oddest thought went through my mind.

  I could have been queen.

  Laughter burbled up my throat.

  Doug’s fingers dug into my arm, squeezing straight down to my bones. “What’s so damn funny?”

  I tried to tell him, but the absurdity of it made me laugh harder. I couldn’t stop the hilarity from pouring out.

  His fist flew at my face.

  Crack!

  On impact, I jerked awake, yelping and grasping my face, but there was no blood or broken bones. No Doug. No physical pain at all.

  My breath came out in shallow bursts, my heart racing as I awoke. It had been a dream. A nightmare. An unwelcome memory.

  “Where is he? Who dares intrude on my queen-to-be’s slumber?” a menacing male voice demanded.

  Liri Elmray, King of Dahlquist, stood in all his naked Fae glory glowering around my dark chamber. How had he gotten here so quickly? Then it came back to me. He’d fallen asleep in my bed. Now he stood against the edge looking into the space in front of me.

  “Who is here?” he snarled. “Where is the dream caster who attacks you? Describe him to me.”

  My breathing was so heavy I couldn’t answer immediately. I clutched my blanket in my fists.

  “There’s no one here,” I finally managed.
>
  Liri studied the space in front of me dubiously. “You were yelling and covering your face with your hands.”

  “It was a nightmare.” One I wanted to forget as quickly as possible. I’d tried to banish all thoughts of my former life from my waking hours, but sometimes they slipped through my defenses at night.

  A tight frown formed over Liri’s lips. “Nightmare.” He repeated the word as though it were foreign. “Are you quite certain?”

  I relaxed my hold on the blanket and nodded slowly. “In the dream, I was . . . back home. On Earth.”

  Liri scowled. “That is not your home. Dahlquist is.”

  “The best home I’ve ever known,” I agreed.

  Liri’s gaze softened. He slipped back under the covers and pulled me against him, wrapping me in his strong, lean arms. I rested my head on his warm chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart, which seemed to say, “You are not alone,” over and over.

  I treasured these moments when it was just the two of us, wrapped up in one another, not needing to speak at all. Who would have known that Liri liked to cuddle?

  “I love you, Liri,” I said softly.

  Liri stroked my head. “Do you really, dearest Hensley?”

  “You could compel me to tell the truth,” I suggested.

  Liri continued his measured strokes, his fingers sliding through my hair, sending tingles of pleasure to my scalp. His hand stilled. “I will never compel you again,” he said with conviction. “You have my word, and once given it can never be broken.”

  My heart leaped inside my chest.

  He loves me. I half expected/half hoped he would confirm my sentiments.

  “You are to be queen, and no queen should ever be compelled,” he said instead.

  The anticipation inside my chest deflated. I tried to quell the disappointment flooding over me.

  Actions speak louder than words, I reminded myself.

  He could have made love to me then retired to his own chambers after we’d finished, but he always held me afterward and often stayed through the night, rising early to get dressed in his private quarters next door. And though I’d shown no signs of being with child in our two months together, he was patient, saying he’d rather we were married first.

  I hoped it wouldn’t take long.

  I feared being barren. What if five years of Fae food and wine had messed with my reproductive functions? What if Liri had changed his mind about having children and somehow made me infertile?

  “So quiet. What are you thinking about?” Liri murmured over my head.

  “My king—” I started then stopped.

  Liri straightened in bed, turning my chin to face him. His eyes reflected like silvery moonlight.

  “My king?” he asked gravely.

  I saw the confusion in the pinch of his brows. In private, I always called him by his given name. I pressed my lips together, not wanting to finish my sentence. I was going to ask whether it would be wiser to wait until we were sure I was capable of bearing children before proceeding with the wedding ceremony, but the words clogged in my throat. Liri had killed his own father to become king. He told me it was for his own safety, but what if he felt a child of his own would one day threaten his life and throne? Was Liri capable of ending his own offspring?

  A shiver ran through me.

  Sensing my emotion, Liri wrapped his arm around me. “What is it, dearest Hensley?” he coaxed. “Tell me what you want.”

  You. Your love. A happy, healthy family, and for us all to be safe.

  A vision of Doug’s jeering face appeared in my mind like a bad omen. Happiness was a fragile, fleeting thing. I’d been happy before my mother married Doug. How long before something or someone came along to destroy my happiness in Faerie? Maybe I was selfish for wanting it in the first place. Maybe I should have kept my place as a grateful servant to the realm. Who did I think I was to wear a crown?

  Liri leaned in closer, awaiting my request.

  “Free Aerith,” I said, imploring him as I had every week since she was moved to Ravensburg with the new queen, Liri’s twin sister, Teryani. Perhaps this time he would grant my wish.

  Guilt of Aerith’s imprisonment weighed on me daily. Unlike me, she had a happy home and family to return to and, more importantly, a mysterious lover whose child she carried.

  At least I’d managed to turn Liri’s attention away from her. Now I wanted him to release her.

  “Very well.”

  Stunned, I twisted around to get a better look at Liri. “Really?” I asked in disbelief.

  Liri shrugged. “If Aerith wishes to return to the elven realm, she’s free to do so . . . after our wedding.”

  The wedding ceremony was in less than a week. Aerith would be home in no time.

  I threw my arms around Liri’s neck and kissed his smooth, pale cheek.

  “Thank you, my love. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

  He chuckled, which seemed to make his eyes shine brighter.

  “So easy to please,” he said with an amused grin.

  “Such a kind, benevolent king,” I teased, my smile widening.

  “There is no such thing,” Liri said, throwing back the covers. “I am greedy for you, dearest. My desire will never fade. My need will never end. I am Fae. I am king. I will always want you.”

  My throat went dry as I processed his words. Long, white silky hair spilled over his shoulders, brushing his muscled chest. My gaze slid down his body, resting on the arousal between his legs.

  “How may I please you?” I asked breathlessly.

  Liri’s eyes sparked with desire. “Remove your nightgown.”

  My fingers pulled at the silky hem above my knees, happy to obey.

  He wanted me. But I wanted him more.

  Once we’d dressed, Liri escorted me from the south wing of the palace to his family’s private dining room. His twin guards, Galather and Folas, followed us.

  Liri was usually punctual about mealtime, but today we’d lingered in one another’s arms.

  His two sisters and younger brother sat waiting at the table with pinched faces, not masking their irritation.

  “The king has arrived. You may serve breakfast now,” Sarfina snapped at the nearest footman.

  The footman, a sharply dressed Fae with long brown hair tied in a ribbon behind his back, merely nodded and walked from the room.

  Liri and I parted ways, each headed for opposite ends of the table. Folas followed Liri, and Galather followed me.

  As I passed Sarfina’s chair, she lowered her voice for only Galather and me to hear. “Still not with child?” she jeered, pointing her pert nose at my smooth belly.

  Ignoring her, I lifted my head as though she were beneath my notice. Sarfina was a nasty blonde-haired harpy. Marrying Liri had its disadvantages, like having Sarfina for a sister-in-law. I couldn’t imagine she’d ever be a doting aunt.

  If I ever had a child that is.

  I resisted the urge to run a hand down the front of my silky blue gown. Galather pulled my chair out for me. I thanked him as I sat. Liri took his seat last, sending a smile over the table like a sunbeam.

  “Good morning, sisters. Brother.”

  Ryo gave the barest nod, a faraway look in his eyes while staring at the table as though it held pictures on it that only he could see. Sarfina studied the tips of her nails.

  “Good morning, brother,” Jastra sang out, leaning forward. Vibrant waves of bright blue hair cascaded over her shoulders and brushed against the edge of the table.

  Liri beamed at her. Jastra did not extend her greeting to me, but at least she hadn’t said or done anything outright vicious. She behaved as though I didn’t exist at all.

  Mini egg-and-cheese soufflés were set before us, alongside plates of sausage, roasted pepper, golden crumpets, and creamed spinach sprinkled with slivered almonds.

  Without another word, we all picked up our forks and dug in.

  Eating was always better than conversation.
>
  Halfway through breakfast, Ryo set his flute of fizzy blood orange juice down heavily. “May I ride into town today?”

  “No,” Liri answered as he cut into a sausage.

  Ryo scowled. “It’s Fable Week. Shouldn’t someone from our family be present to observe?”

  “What is Fable Week?” I asked.

  Liri huffed. “An annoying tradition my great-great-grandfather started ages ago to entertain the citizens of Dahlquist. It gives the performers an opportunity to lie.”

  “There are plays?” I asked, sitting up in my seat.

  Liri nodded and returned to his sausage.

  “It sounds fun,” I said.

  Liri frowned. “It’s not, I assure you.”

  “It’s loads of fun,” Ryo said. “Last year they had mock battles with Fae dressed up in full battle gear. They brought all kinds of exotic creatures, including a cyclops, a thunderbird, and a griffin, which Cirrus let me ride.”

  Liri narrowed his eyes at Ryo. “Well, I’m not Cirrus.”

  “You can say that again,” Sarfina said beneath her breath.

  “What was that?” Liri’s booming voice gave my heart a jolt.

  Rather than back down, Sarfina sat up taller and turned her blonde head toward Liri. “Why don’t you admit the real reason you don’t leave the castle? You’re afraid.”

  A rash of color filled Liri’s face. His voice was chilly and low when he spoke next. “I am the one to be feared.”

  Sarfina snorted.

  Liri glanced behind me. “Galather, remove her from my sight.”

  The blond-haired giant swiftly moved from my side to Sarfina’s, dragging her by one arm out of her seat. She screeched and tried to slap him, but he seized her wrist as easily as a fly caught in a spider’s web.

  “Until you learn to be respectful, you will eat alone in your rooms,” Liri said calmly.

  Sarfina twisted from one side to another as Galather forced her toward the dining room doors.

  “I’d rather eat with the pigs than you!” Sarfina screamed.

  “You belong with the pigs. You certainly know how to squeal,” Liri returned, a smirk lifting his lips.

  Her eyes thinned to slits. “You bastard! You murderer! You—” Her last insult was cut short by Galather’s hand as it clamped over her lips, and he dragged her from the room.