Stolen Princess

by Nikki Jefford

  Jhaeros’s chest rose as he took a deep, rumbling breath and released it. “But I suppose I will have to hold back if I am to endure him as a father-in-law.”

  Jealous rage cut through me like shards of ice—freezing over then burning away into molten fury.

  “You still mean to go after Shalendra?” I spit out. “Good luck with that! I wish you success, Jhaeros. You two deserve one another.” I pivoted on the balls of my feet and stormed toward the door.

  Before I could make it out of the room, Jhaeros leaped between the door and me, the color rising in his cheeks. His large frame blocked my escape while his deep brown eyes stripped me bare.

  “It is not your sister I mean to mate, Aerith. It is you.”

  My breath caught in my throat and my toes curled inside my golden slippers. A surge of drunken joy and hope swirled through me before catching fire and burning to ash inside my stomach. I looked away.

  “You are not obligated to mate me,” I said softly.

  “I am a male of honor,” Jhaeros said. “I will do right by you.”

  Honor, of course. Was that the only reason he’d propose to me?

  “Don’t trouble yourself,” I spat. “It’s not as though you took my maidenhood. Besides, what happens at the ball, stays at the ball. Once you’re back in Pinemist, you’re free to forget about me altogether.”

  “You think I could forget you?” Jhaeros demanded.

  I shrugged and kept my head down, unable to meet his penetrating stare. Out of the corners of my eyes, I saw a flash of gold after Jhaeros released my mask. As it fluttered to the stone floor, he took me by the shoulders and backed me against the wall, head dipping low to meet my lips. His mouth was warm and demanding. Halfheartedly, I tried to push him away, but the moan that rolled off my traitorous tongue didn’t convince him to let go.

  He cupped one of my breasts over the corset. My eyes squeezed together as I gasped. His other hand wrapped around my waist and pressed me against his hard length. I reopened my eyes and parted my lips to allow his tongue to probe and devour mine.

  Jhaeros broke off the kiss but didn’t pull away. His brown eyes delved into mine from half an inch away.

  “I want to love you like this every day for the rest of my life, Aerith Heiris.”

  “It’s Elmray now,” I said.

  He growled, grip tightening on my waist.

  “I want it to be Keasandoral.”

  “What if I just want to be left alone?”

  “Is that really what you want, Aerith? Do you truly wish to leave the ball and never see me again?”

  His body stiffened, and he seemed to hold his breath waiting for my reply.

  I could lie, tell him that after tonight I wanted us to go our separate ways and never think or speak of what we’d done again. As though it had never happened. With time, perhaps the memory would fade like the fog clinging to the castle’s grounds. All of this would become nothing more than a beautiful dream.

  Stabbing pain lanced through my chest. My heart felt ready to break apart at the thought of giving him up.

  “No,” I answered honestly.

  Jhaeros’s face seemed to brighten.

  “Perhaps an easier question is this, would you do me the honor of a dance?”

  I squinted at him. “You dance?”

  “Indeed, I do. And apparently you play campaigne quite well.”

  “Quite well,” I repeated, raising a brow. “You mean like a champion three worlds over.”

  “You never won the game.” Jhaeros lifted his nose.

  Ah, there was the arrogant elf I remembered. But somehow, right then, it didn’t bother me.

  I placed one hand on my hip. “Only because you never let me finish.”

  “I got distracted.”

  “More like you did the distracting to save face.”

  “A rematch then,” Jhaeros said, his eyes lighting up. A smile really suited him. It softened his features and made him appear younger. “One of many I hope to enjoy. Feel free to distract me anytime,” he added playfully.

  He offered me his arm. I placed my hand on his sturdy arm and he opened the door, ushering me out—leaving the mask behind.

  Torchlight flared along the corridor, its heat warming my arms. The hall didn’t seem as gloomy as I remembered when first walking it alone.

  We passed through the archway, rejoining the crowd and music within the ballroom. A seductive melody played and amorous couples pressed against one another, many looking disheveled. Leave it to Jhaeros to look just as immaculate as when he’d arrived. Not one button undone. At least I’d managed to muss his hair a bit, but it was nothing compared to the number he’d done on my tresses, which now tumbled freely down my back and over my shoulder.

  Jhaeros led me to the dance floor then pulled me against him by my hips. I wrapped my arms around his neck and sighed wistfully. “Suddenly I don’t want this night to end.”

  “The ball must end, but we don’t have to,” Jhaeros said.

  I chewed on my bottom lip. “I can’t leave my sister, Melarue.”

  “That little hellion?” Jhaeros asked with a chuckle. “She’d be welcome too. I have several spare chambers for her to choose from.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Of course, she’s your family.”

  “What about my other family?”

  “They’d be welcome to visit, if you wished it,” Jhaeros said gruffly.

  “What if I never want to see them again?”

  “Then I’ll turn them away.” He sounded eager to follow through with the promise as he said the words.

  I leaned back and looked in Jhaeros’s eyes. “Even Shalendra?”

  He dipped forward until his forehead was practically touching mine. “Especially Shalendra.”

  My lips pressed into a soft smile.

  “And what of my father’s bills? What if he wants you to,” I pressed, wrinkling my nose, “buy me?”

  “Not a chance,” Jhaeros growled. “He’s a widower. If he wants to maintain his extravagant lifestyle, he can go find himself a wealthy mate. A father should look out for his offspring, not the other way around.”

  I hugged myself against Jhaeros, not wanting to let go. He squeezed me back.

  “Can I call on you tomorrow?”

  I chuckled softly. “I believe it already is tomorrow.”

  “Today then? This afternoon?” He sounded as eager as a young elfling about to open gifts on winter solstice.

  My insides warmed and hummed. I still couldn’t believe it was Jhaeros Keasandoral causing this new feeling of weightlessness, comfort, and passion to take possession of my heart. I’d tasted his lips, had him inside me, and—most personal of all—been allowed a glimpse into the window of his soul. I’d seen a side of him most creatures would never know, and I wanted more of it. More of him.

  “It’s your move, Jhaeros,” I said, lowering my voice.

  When he looked at me, his brown eyes appeared to darken. The longing in that gaze stole my breath away.

  “You’ve already captured my heart.”

  My limbs turned pliant and I nearly melted into my golden slippers. To be loved so openly felt like the purest bliss. Like magic.

  We pressed together and held one another, dancing amongst the beautiful creatures in the dim light until the music stopped and we were directed outdoors to watch the fireworks.

  Bright lights exploded overhead as the fog thickened around our ankles. Jhaeros laced his fingers around mine as our heads lifted to the sky. Orangey-yellow light exploded and fractured into dozens of shimmering pieces.

  The next burst of light expanded wider, filling the entire sky—casting the grounds in a blinding flash of white light.

  When I next blinked, I found myself standing alone in the dark courtyard at my family’s estate in Sweetbell.

  The lanterns had burned out and no one rushed forward to greet me, but I no longer felt alone. I could still feel the heat from Jhaeros’s hand in mine, see
the promise in his deep brown gaze, and feel the warmth in my heart that Jhaeros was mine.

  He’d come for me.

  I would not turn him away.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Darkness closed in on the courtyard like a giant’s fist.

  The lanterns had been extinguished. Not even a single flame to welcome my moonlit return from the netherworld. One moment there had been fireworks and supernatural beings of every kind, and a warm, firm hand in my own. The next, a burst of blinding light had transported me back home. Alone.

  Blonde hair tumbled down my shoulders to my lower back. I’d arrived at the mysterious Monster Ball by the light of the moon and returned home the same way. I still had no idea which realm the enchanted castle had been located. Faerie? Mortal? Elven? Perhaps someplace in between. Neutral ground where those chosen to attend were safe from danger and enchantment, free to revel in the splendor of the supernatural ball.

  I was most certainly back in the elven realm now.

  Not quite home. This had never been home. Not the estate, nor the town of Sweetbell, and certainly not the sprawling rooftop covering the scheming minds of my father and sister Shalendra.

  My yellow ballgown swished over my legs like pale light in the darkness. The chill of the night’s air settled over my bare arms. But nothing could crush my spirits after the magical evening I’d spent in the arms of the last elf I’d ever imagined falling for.

  Jhaeros.

  I could still feel the ghost of his lips ravishing mine and recalled every endearment he’d spoken with such sincerity and devotion.

  “I want to love you like this every day for the rest of my life.”

  Those lavish, hungry lips had frowned at me for so long I could still hardly believe he was smitten—with me. Perhaps it had all been a trick of the mind, an elaborate illusion. All part of an evening enchantment among magical beings.

  The lingering ache between my legs said otherwise. I was too tired to worry about consequences. My former mate had bedded me nearly every night of our doomed union, and I’d never once felt the stirrings of life inside my womb. I could be barren. Then again, Cirrus could have been rendered impotent—with meddling from his younger brother, Liri. Or perhaps one of my sisters-in-law had put a curse on me. For whatever reason, I was unable to have children.

  I shoved thoughts of my Fae in-laws to the far recesses of my mind. I’d half expected to see Liri at the ball since so many royal supernaturals were in attendance. I’d even worried Liri had somehow arranged for my invitation. It was the sort of thing he would do. But there’d been no signs of the meddlesome Fae prince, which had been a Herculean sigh of relief.

  The tall French doors with sandblasted glass and wrought iron swirls swung inward without a squeak. Only the best in Sweetbell, all for the small price of leaving everything behind—my family, my home, my entire realm—to marry a Fae prince. All to save my family from starving.

  If only Father had learned his lesson the first time and saved the coins Cirrus sent rather than spent them as soon as they reached his fingers.

  The estate’s polished wood floorboards weren’t as silent as the doors. They creaked beneath my golden slippers as I followed the long ornamental rug down the hallway to the base of the wide staircase leading up to the bedchambers.

  A second pair of footsteps joined mine as the soft glow of a single candle appeared at the top landing of the stairs. Father’s pointed ears poked out over a long nightcap that matched his blue satin robe. He held a tallow candle in front of him like a bony finger ready to scold. “Who’s there?” he whispered harshly. “Aerith, is that you sneaking in?”

  Right, “sneaking” since Father had forced me to attend the ball in search of a new benefactor.

  I folded my arms over my chest. “Yes, it’s me.”

  “Shh,” he hissed, glaring down at me. “Your sisters are sleeping.”

  I lowered my arms and took the stairs up slowly, my eyes latching on to my father’s in the murky light of the single flame. Head lifted, I carried myself like the princess I’d been forced to become back in the kingdom of Dahlquist. Father scowled. He despised my high-and-mighty manners as much as he’d despised my lack of glamour and grace before sending me off to Faerie.

  Nothing about me pleased him. Only one daughter held his affections.

  As soon as I reached the landing, he looked me over, scrutinizing my loose hair, and wrinkled his nose as though chewing on a mouth full of pitberries.

  “What happened to your hair?” he demanded, holding the candle near my head for closer inspection.

  I took a step back lest he set it on fire. “I decided to let it down.”

  “After all the hard work Penelo put into your coiffure? Most ungracious.” Father shook his head.

  Even my eyes were too tired to roll in their sockets. Ever since I’d left the Faerie kingdom of Dahlquist to rejoin my family in the elven city of Sweetbell, Father had taken to talking fancy. Coiffure? The word made me want to cough. Why couldn’t he say “hairdo” like a normal elf? I was a princess by marriage, but back in the elven realm my family had never been part of the elite. Not even Shalendra, with her gaggle of admirers, had managed to ensnare a high elf—much to her chagrin. And now, oh, sweetberries, I had her ex-admirer wrapped around all ten of my fingers.

  I’d rather save the surprise of Jhaeros for later—like when he arrived at the front landing, pounding on the door to see me as he’d promised at the end of the ball. Shalendra had tossed him aside without a second thought—forsaken us both. It was poetic justice that her castoffs had moved on with each other.

  Father narrowed his eyes at the smug smile on my lips.

  I shrugged with indifference. “Things at the ball got a bit—wild—toward the end. You should have seen some of the other guests. At least my dress wasn’t torn to bits.”

  Father sucked in a breath then quickly released it in a huff. “Well, I’m glad you were off enjoying yourself while the rest of us were stuck behind, worrying about our futures.”

  “You mean whether you’ll be able to continue eating from golden spoons rather than silver?” I arched a brow.

  Father’s face darkened as though a shadow had passed over the harsh wrinkles around his cold eyes. “I’ve heard about enough sass from you, Aerith. You are no longer the lady of the house. You lost that privilege when you failed to protect your mate. Do not blame me for your misfortunes, especially when I am forced to share in them.”

  The candle nearly guttered out as Father spewed his disdainful words at me.

  All the warmth and passion I’d experienced at the ball vanished as abruptly as the mysterious castle in which the revelries had taken place. Shadows seemed to creep off the floral-patterned walls and settle into the depths of my soul, coiling inside my stomach like blackened smoke.

  “Fear not, Father. I found a suitor at the ball, just as you wished.”

  “Oh?” Father’s voice rose and softened with interest and hope.

  I looked past his shoulder, down the hall leading to my chamber. The anger and frustration from seconds before drained from my body as exhaustion took hold. I wanted to free myself of the tight gown and drown in the luxurious sheets and blankets on my bed. “He promised to call in the afternoon.”

  Father raised his brows. “Who is he? An elf? Fae? A supernatural being from the mortal world?”

  Yes, I’m sure father would love to send me off to yet another realm far from home. And, although the sexy shifters at the ball made it tempting, the elven realm would always be my one true home, especially Pinemist, the village where I’d grown up. More importantly, I wouldn’t leave my youngest sister, Melarue, again. I was surprised she wasn’t up now, hiding in the shadows to make sure I returned home, demanding every detail of the supernatural ball. Some things were better left at the ball, but I had enough delights to satisfy her curiosity. It wasn’t like Mel would want to hear about the kissy bits anyway. She’d much rather hear about the fire-breathing dragon s
hifter, badass succubus, soulful siren, and twin gargoyles whose human forms turned to stone.

  What Mel wouldn’t care about is boring old Jhaeros from Pinemist or that we’d played campaigne while verbally sparring. I could already imagine her “ew” face if I told her we’d kissed. And what we did after . . . At seventeen, she was much too young to even think about sex.

  “Well?” Father asked, shoving the candle near my face again.

  I blinked several times, but my mind kept drifting off. I needed to lie down. Close my eyes. Get some rest before first light, which couldn’t be too far off. “Father, I am tired. You will meet him soon enough.” When I opened my mouth to sigh, a yawn emerged instead. I started in the opposite direction of my father, eyelids heavy, and my golden slippers beginning to drag against the thick rugs covering the upper floors.

  “He is wealthy?” Father asked from behind me.

  I yawned again and nodded, my back to my father.

  “Rest up, Aerith. We want you looking presentable for your suitor.”

  With my back still facing him, Father missed my smirk.

  I could waltz downstairs in my nightgown and Jhaeros would still want me. Or maybe we’d both come to our senses after a few hours of sleep. One evening of passion didn’t mean Jhaeros and I were destined to become mates. I’d been a bride once. I wasn’t dying to do it again anytime soon.

  I glided into my chamber, shutting the door behind me. The weak flame of a candle at the end of its wick cast a dim glow beside my bed. Wild red hair spilled over the pillows, and deep breaths alerted me that Melarue had fallen asleep waiting for me.

  I unzipped the back of my gown, letting it spill to the floor, and stepped out—not bothering to put it away. Gently, I opened a drawer of my armoire and pulled a thin nightgown over my head before slipping beneath the covers beside Mel.

  When I closed my eyes, it wasn’t darkness waiting but colorful memories from the ball—twinkling lights, mystic fog, and chandeliers. Conversations and melodies played in my head, one sentence in particular repeating itself to me: “You’ve captured my heart.”

  Deep brown eyes closed in on mine. Warm lips. Eager hands.