Faery Realms: Ten Magical Titles: Multi-Author Bundle of Novels & Novellas

by Rachel Morgan

  “No, I haven’t,” Alicia said.

  “Then take a practice shot first,” Deveron said, and she was sure he was trying to rescue her.

  Lorelei laughed with dark humor. “Take several. Take a week. We are not doing this for any kind of reward. So be bold.”

  Alicia aimed the arrow, but the bow twisted in such a strange way, the missile dropped onto the ground only a few feet away.

  Muttered chuckles from Venician onlookers resulted.

  Her blood heated. She turned to Ritasia, whose wide eyes and parted lips gave Alicia the impression her poor attempt at archery horrified the dark fae princess. Alicia smiled at her, trying to reassure her it didn’t matter to the human how poorly she’d done. “Well, Ritasia, let me amend my offer. I can show you how to shoot well with a human bow.”

  Ritasia nodded with only a smidgeon of a smile. Alicia feared Ritasia was still worried about the outcome of the game.

  Alicia handed the bow to a servant, done forever with fae archery competitions.

  Lorelei said, “No, you are to shoot against me now.”

  “If I won against Ritasia I was to shoot against you. I didn’t get close.”

  Lorelei’s lips turned into a vile grin. “Amuse me again then.”

  “Very well. Anything to please you. Go ahead.” Not.

  Lorelei motioned to the target. “After you, as you are my guest.”

  She was giving Alicia no chance to rest her arms.

  Alicia took her stance again, but this time she considered what she’d done wrong the first time. Maybe if she twisted the bow slightly to her right and tilted it up higher, she could compensate for the problem she had initially.

  She’d have to practice for weeks to get the hang of the strange faery bow.

  But with all eyes on her—as she noticed several more courtiers had gathered to watch the competition of the royals—she hadn’t any choice. Shoot the arrow and hope it fell farther than the last few feet at least.

  She closed one eye and released the arrow.

  Chapter Ten

  Whispered murmurs filled the crowd as Alicia stared at the distance she’d sent the arrow…two feet farther than Deveron’s even. She hated to look at Deveron. Would he be upset with her? She had won several archery competitions. She couldn’t help that. And she had tried to decline playing the game.

  Lorelei stared at her with such contempt Alicia figured she could have turned her to stone. She offered the bow to Lorelei.

  Lorelei shook her head. “No, my arms are too weary to shoot again.

  Deveron rubbed his chin while he considered where her arrow had struck the farther target.

  Ritasia looked mortified.

  Well, that hadn’t gone well.

  “Can we do something else?” Alicia asked, handing the bow to the servant again.

  “You will shoot against me,” Deveron said, reclaiming the bow. He didn’t seem at all happy.

  Alicia’s mouth dropped open as she stared at Deveron. Was he miffed at her for beating him? When she was a mere human? And even worse, a human female who had never used a fae bow? Heaven’s have mercy. What a crisis to his dark male fae heritage.

  “It was a lucky shot,” Alicia said. “Probably couldn’t do it again in a million years.”

  Lorelei’s mutinous expression hadn’t changed. Ritasia still seemed ill at ease.

  What? If she bested Deveron again, would they hang her at high noon? Had she done some unforgivable deed?

  She supposed she was never to best a male fae at archery. So should she hit short this time to give Deveron the chance to prove his superior male archery ability?

  Or should she try her best to beat him again?

  He pulled back the string and with everyone quiet as a black void in space, he released the arrow. It smacked the wooden stake target, splitting it in two.

  Several clapped and expressed their congratulations.

  A servant quickly placed another stake the same distance, but Alicia aimed at one several feet farther out. Competition was competition. She didn’t figure she’d have mastered the bow this quickly, but perhaps it was just that she knew so well how to apply her skills in archery and it didn’t matter the strange shape of bow.

  Or not.

  It might have been a fluke.

  She stopped breathing as she readied her arrow. Everyone else seemed to stop breathing, too.

  The arrow whipped through the air and without a breeze stirring, struck its target, beating Deveron’s by five feet.

  “Again,” he said, his tone harsh.

  She wanted to remind him she was frail and their ruse was quickly being eroded away. “I’m tired.”

  “Again,” he commanded. This time his firm voice brooked no argument.

  Stubborn dark fae with an easily bruised male ego the size of the state of Alaska.

  He fired an arrow that hit a stake ten feet beyond hers.

  This time she would not play the game. Her arms were wearied, and she would not be commanded by any fae, dark, male, royal, or otherwise, what to do.

  Damn his male ego.

  She meant to shoot at a much closer target. That’s what she meant to do. But somehow her own stubbornness took control of her and made her do it. She aimed, pulled, and struck his arrow, splitting it in two.

  Then she handed the bow to the servant and said, “Next game?”

  Everyone was speechless. No one dared to congratulate the female fae, well human, but they didn’t know that. All they knew was she was creating a wedge between their princess and Prince Deveron, so no one would congratulate her. She suspected Deveron was mad at her. Ritasia seemed unduly concerned.

  Maybe because Deveron was mad at her.

  “It’s time for us to retire to our bedchambers and get ready for the ball,” Lorelei said.

  “I’ll share the guestroom with my cousin,” Ritasia announced.

  Alicia wouldn’t look at Deveron. He was a spoiled rotten dark fae who couldn’t concede she was a pretty damned good marksman.

  Too bad.

  “You seem to have regained your strength back quite well,” Lorelei said as she grasped Deveron’s arm and spoke to Alicia.

  “It comes and goes,” Ritasia quickly said.

  “Does Alicia have a change of gowns? Everyone will know her at the ball if she does not.”

  Ritasia said, “I have brought a week’s worth to Venicia. I’m sure she will find one that appeals.”

  “No one is to know who anyone else is,” Lorelei reminded her.

  “I will know her, as I need to watch out for her.”

  Lorelei nodded.

  Ritasia took hold of Alicia’s hand and transported her to the bedchambers. The effect wasn’t hardly dizzying at all, considering the short distance.

  “Are you all right?” Ritasia asked her.

  “Yes. I guess we were so close by, it didn’t bother me as much.”

  Ritasia pulled a chest open, then sifted through several gowns.

  Alicia watched her, then said, “I guess no one liked it that I beat Deveron in archery. I assumed he didn’t either.”

  “Other things were on his mind.”

  Alicia studied her as she pulled out a sea green dress.

  “To go with your green eyes and blond hair. It should be very fetching.” Ritasia handed it to her, then returned to the chest.

  Alicia ran her fingers over the silky sheers that covered the satin gown underneath. “What other things were on his mind?”

  Ritasia dug around in the chest some more, then pulled out a peach-colored gown. “Like who you are.”

  Taking a deep breath, Alicia said, “Well, that I would like to know as well.”

  Ritasia stood. “I think it best if we return you home.”

  Gone was the fae friendship, just like that? One archery competition, no cheating, and she was no longer wanted by the dark fae? Had they lost interest in the human who could best them at a game? And why even bring her here if they were truly co
ncerned about her safety? Was it all just pretend?

  “I would be happy to oblige. Take me there now. Or return me to South Padre Island.”

  “Deveron would have to approve.”

  “Why? He doesn’t own me.”

  “In a way, he does.”

  Alicia squelched the urge to scream and handed the gown back to Ritasia. “Take me home now, please.”

  “I can’t and I won’t.”

  Alicia tapped her foot on the floor. There was nothing worse than being stranded in a place she had no way to get out of. And in no way did she belong to Deveron.

  “You and Deveron are mad I did so well at the competition. Why? Was it because I bruised his male ego?”

  “It is more than that.”

  “What?”

  Ritasia began to pull off her emerald green gown.

  “What?”

  “I can’t say,” Ritasia said with exasperation. “I need to speak with Deveron first.”

  “I can’t return to South Padre or my home without your help, can I?” Or her father’s. But she had no way of knowing who he was or where he lived.

  Alicia studied the fae who ignored her. “Fine.” She headed for the door.

  “Wait!” Ritasia’s voice was desperate. She was half undressed and couldn’t very well chase after Alicia. But Alicia wasn’t staying if Ritasia wouldn’t confide in her.

  “Well?”

  “We’ll talk with…I’ll speak with my brother after the ball.”

  “Right.”

  Alicia yanked the door open and headed out of the room.

  “Alicia! Wait.”

  She closed the door behind her. She would have a word with Deveron. Why did Ritasia have to act as her intermediary? Was Deveron that mad at Alicia?

  Chapter Eleven

  Frustrated over having no control over her destiny, Alicia had every intention of seeing Deveron and forcing him to return her home at once. She would make her mother tell her who her father was like she should have done years ago.

  She stormed down the hallway wondering where Deveron could be staying. Then she saw the steward. His gray eyes caught sight of her immediately and widened, though he’d been talking to a guard.

  Her skin crawled and an uncontrollable panic filled her with dread. She slowed her pace.

  He headed for her with the guard at his side.

  She stiffened her resolve. She would ask him where Deveron was located. Easy enough. And then the steward would answer her question in a very civil tongue. Right. There wouldn’t be any way he’d want her to visit Deveron at his guest bedchambers, not when he wanted Princess Lorelei to wed the prince.

  “Alicia!” Deveron called from some distance behind her.

  Relief to hear his voice washed over her like a warm South Padre Island wave, even though his voice was couched in worry.

  Had he changed his mind about being mad at her over the archery competition? Didn’t matter. She was going home.

  She headed in his direction, but he reached her first. Before she could utter a word, he dragged her back to her guest quarters. She tried to break free.

  He tightened his grip.

  “Let go of me!”

  “You are never to be out of Ritasia’s or my sight, Alicia. I told you that already.”

  “I’m sorry you can’t deal with my winning at the competition. Well, tying at the last of it anyway,” she said haughtily.

  “You have no idea the trouble you’ve stirred up.”

  “What?” Was this what Ritasia alluded to but wouldn’t speak of? What was the matter now?

  They arrived back at the chambers, and he opened the door as Alicia squeaked, “Ritasia is changing!”

  But Ritasia had already changed into her peach gown and was shoving her sandals on her feet.

  “Thank goodness you caught her,” Ritasia said.

  “Take me home,” Alicia said as he pulled her into the room and shut the door. She jerked her arm free.

  “We need to discuss this, Deveron,” Ritasia said.

  “I don’t know where else I can take her where she’ll be safe.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

  “What is the matter?” Alicia nearly shouted.

  Deveron considered her, then shook his head. “You are a dragon fae. Our greatest enemy.”

  “Bull. How could I be?”

  “Half, I should say. It’s the only explanation. Only the female dragon fae can shoot like you can with the bow. No one who had never used a fae bow like that could do what you did. And no female fae could shoot as far and well as you, unless you were a dragon fae. It’s an inherited trait.”

  Alicia sat down hard on a blue velvet chair. A dragon fae. Her father was a dragon fae?

  “What if her father is someone of consequence, Deveron? What if he learns his sworn enemy has taken her hostage?”

  “Mother will attempt to do the same thing. There could be war,” Deveron said.

  “Why? My father abandoned me when I was five. He would never know I was with the Denkar as their prisoner or otherwise.”

  “Spies are prevalent in a castle. Always. I’d bet a year’s worth of gold one is on his way to Morcalon right now with news of the female fae pretending to be a Neferon princess. Not only that, but the crown prince and princess of the royal family of Denkar guard her closely. Rumors probably already abound about your strange malady. Are we drugging you? Then as the time wears on you are your perky self again?”

  “Then return me home.”

  Deveron paced across the floor.

  “Return me home!”

  “No.”

  “Deveron—”

  “No.” He turned to Ritasia. “Can you ensure she stays here and changes her gowns?”

  She nodded, but wrung her hands.

  “Stay! We will take you from here during the height of the ball. Do not, whatever you do, stray from Ritasia.”

  He stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

  She was not a dog. She would not be commanded to stay like a dog!

  “You must get changed,” Ritasia said, in a much gentler voice.

  Alicia folded her arms.

  Ritasia’s voice changed. “I should have known you were a dragon fae. They’re notoriously stubborn.”

  “Written from their history or yours?”

  Ritasia managed a small smile. “If we are to leave here safely,” she tried again, “you must do as Deveron says.”

  “Where are we going after that?”

  Ritasia shook her head. “Deveron is the one who gets himself into complicated messes like these, though come to think of it, this is the worse one ever. And usually he figures a way to get himself out again. I’m sure he already has a plan.”

  ***

  Deveron changed into a black tunic, black trousers, boots and a black wig. After tying his wig hair into a ponytail, he donned a black mask. Then he vanished and reappeared at the entrance to the grand ballroom. One thing good about fae travel, no one would have seen him leave his room wearing his costume.

  When he strode into the room, he found it crowded with exuberant masked courtiers eager to guess everyone’s identity. He cursed himself for not asking Ritasia what Alicia was wearing to the ball.

  At least he’d paid enough attention to know Ritasia wore her favorite peach gown. The unusual color looked well on her. Very rarely did he ever see anyone wearing that shade but her. He assumed he’d find her easily. And where she stood, he’d find Alicia.

  Because of the crowd, a good twenty minutes passed before he spied Ritasia. He vanished and reappeared next to her. “Ritasia,” he said taking hold of her hand.

  The lady giggled and he released her hand at once. “If you wish to me to be the princess, my lord, I would be glad to take her place.”

  His skin chilled. Where the hell was Ritasia? She wouldn’t have changed again unless…

  Maybe she was fighting with Alicia to get her to change clothes. He took a deep breath and hurried
out of the ballroom with a quick stride toward Alicia’s door.

  Chapter Twelve

  Alicia feared for her life more than ever, knowing that she was half dragon fae. Others, including the Denkar, hated her….or her kind.

  Which would mean they hated her.

  And all because she had wanted to protect her friend, Cassie, from the attentions of a gorgeous, drop dead, dark fae at the beach on their vacation. Next time, she’d let well enough alone.

  If there was a next time.

  She slipped into the sea green gown, hoping that no one but Deveron and Ritasia would know who she was. “Thank you for letting me borrow another of your gowns, Ritasia, especially knowing what you do about me.”

  “I have to admit, Alicia, you are not at all like I would imagine the dragon fae would be. Maybe it’s because you were not raised by them. Or perhaps even my perception of them is incorrect. All I know is I truly care what happens to you. And so does Deveron.”

  “He has an odd way of showing it.” Alicia smoothed down the wispy sheers that floated into place with seeming reluctance.

  Ritasia clipped Alicia’s blond hair back with diamond studded hair fasteners. “I’m sure the shock of which fae kingdom you originated from upset him some. I’m not certain either of us would have ever suspected you were a dragon fae.” She returned to the chest and shook her head as she pulled two feathered masks from it. “We would never have suggested you take part in archery had we known. Though, I suspect if you came from one of the close lines of Denkar fae, he would be as ruffled.” She waved the masks at her. “Either of these? I have others.”

  “The silver would be fine.” She considered Ritasia’s words further. “Why would it bother him if I were one of your close relations?”

  Ritasia smiled a strange little smile, then handed her the silver mask. “Perhaps Deveron could explain better.” She attached a golden mask to her own face.

  “I thought you hated me because I was a dragon fae.”

  “No. Only we’re concerned, and rightly so, that the dragon fae will take revenge because we have taken you—with us—for your own well-being, of course. Only they would not see it that way. Are you ready to go?”