Summer Prince

by Juliana Haygert

  Summer Prince

  The Wyth Courts Book 3

  Juliana Haygert

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Any trademark, service marks, product names, or names featured are the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if one of these terms is used.

  Copyright © 2021 by Juliana Haygert

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Manufactured in the United States of America.

  First Edition March 2021

  www.julianahaygert.com

  Edited by Dani Crabtree

  Proofreading by Jessica Nelson

  Cover design by The Book Brander

  Created with Vellum

  Summer Prince

  He’s trapped in a dark land, and she’s his only hope of escape.

  * * *

  Locked in a vicious battle with the tyrant king, a spell is cast on Prince Varian of the Summer Court that transports him to a realm of ghastly monsters and unspeakable horrors. There, he is imprisoned by ogres and learns of a powerful witch who may hold the key to his return to Summer Court.

  * * *

  But this magical enchantress is far more than she appears...

  * * *

  After living in the beastly land for ten years, Layla holds no hope of ever returning home—until she hears whispers of the ogres’ fae captive. Desperate to leave the torturous realm behind, she ventures out in hopes of achieving the impossible.

  * * *

  Brought together by their mutual goal of escape, Varian and Layla embark on a race against time to return to Summer Court. Battling their way through treacherous terrain, they find themselves fighting a reignited war and their growing desire for each other. Can they make it back before Varian’s kingdom falls? Or will they have nothing to hold but each other has their world comes crumbling down?

  * * *

  Summer Prince is a standalone steamy paranormal romance with a HEA. Each book in the Wyth Courts series will feature a different couple, with a complete story, and a HEA. Suited for readers 18+ due to language and sex scenes.

  Contents

  Author’s Note

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Four Months Later

  Thank you

  About the Author

  Also by Juliana Haygert

  Author’s Note

  I hope you enjoy reading Summer Prince!

  * * *

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  1

  Varian

  If this place were called purgatory, it would have been a compliment.

  At the sound of heavy footsteps and dragging metal, I quickly wrapped myself in a glamour and climbed to the highest tree branch that would support my weight. I flatted my back against the rough trunk and tried to keep my breathing slow and steady.

  No sudden movements, no sounds.

  It didn’t take three seconds for the monsters to show up. Five creatures almost twice as tall as I was, broad and strong, with thick, rough, greenish skin. Muscles and dark veins corded their long arms and legs. Most were bald, but these five had a few patches of black hair on their large heads. Their dark eyes were sunk in, their noses too large, and their mouths crooked. Their long and sharp teeth could easily cut through flesh—I knew that from experience. They walked with a drunken gait, but they weren’t drunk. And they were more agile than it seemed—yeah, experience.

  I rubbed my shoulder, where a scar marked my skin. I didn’t know how I hadn’t died of infection, but somehow, I had survived.

  Sometimes I wished I hadn't.

  The monsters trudged forward, carrying their steel maces, dragging them on the earth, and leaving dents in the soft ground.

  When they were about thirty yards past my hiding spot, I exhaled a deep breath.

  One of the creatures stopped.

  I stilled and checked my glamour. I was mostly sure my fae glamours worked on them. But right now, as the creature’s eyes scanned the trees, the dark bushes, the ground, I wondered if it would find me. He sniffed the air.

  That I had learned quickly. These monsters had a superior sense of smell; most of the monsters here did. I often spread mud over my arms, legs, neck, and face, hoping it would be enough to disguise my scent.

  After six tense seconds, the monster huffed and lumbered after its companions.

  I didn’t dare move for another full minute.

  When they were out of sight, I jumped from the tree branch and landed on the wet ground, burying my boots to the ankle in mud. I let out a long sigh. From nearby bushes, I fished out the rabbit I had killed moments before the creatures appeared, and then made my way back to my camp.

  My camp was a hollowed-out tree trunk. There was only one entrance, which I covered at night with a panel I had made of thick pine branches.

  Most nights, I slept seated against the panel, keeping it in place against the many creatures that prowled the night, creatures I had never seen before in my entire life, and that would tear off my head in three seconds flat.

  I set up the few branches I had tied together to make up a kind of grill, and bunched up some firewood underneath it. I tied the rabbit—it wasn’t really a rabbit and it certainly didn’t taste like one, but I had no idea what to call it—to a sturdier branch and placed it over the firewood. Then, I pointed my finger at it and a jet of flames flew from my fingertip, igniting the firewood.

  I sat in front of my dinner and stared at the fire.

  I had been sent here through that blazing portal by that scorching witch over three weeks ago. I thought I lost a day or two, trying to situate myself and running and hiding from the monsters who plagued this strange and dark land, but after that, I started counting the days. I wanted to know how long I was here.

  I refused, though, to believe I would stay here forever. Just because I had already roamed this swamp for days on end, and never found anything, didn’t mean there wasn’t some kind of civilization out there. Intelligent beings, capable beings, beings who would help me get back to my realm.

  I had to hope there was a way, that I would find a way …

  My chest tightened and I pressed a hand over my heart. I took a deep breath and focused. I wouldn’t fall into despair now. I had survived three weeks here, I would survive more, and I would find a way home. I had to, because the last time I had seen my mother, the queen of the Summer Cour
t, she had been hit with magic by the witch Sanna, and it didn’t look good.

  I had no idea if Sanna had killed everyone, if Vasant had won that battle, or if my mother was alive.

  I hurt for her and my kingdom. If my mother died and I wasn’t there … there was no one else to rule the Summer Court. Mahaeru was sure to interfere and appoint someone else, but would that be enough? I feared rebels would rise up and a civil war would erupt.

  Anything could happen, and I wasn’t there to help. To fix it.

  Time passed while my thoughts took me away from this terrible land and filled me with anxiety over the situation I was in. The rabbit roasted, its smell reaching my nose. The first time I cooked it, the poignant scent of rubber had turned me off and I hadn’t eaten it. But the next day, I was too famished to care. Now, I didn’t even notice it anymore.

  With a piece of wood I had sharpened against a rock, I cut a piece of meat from its leg and shoved it in my mouth.

  The snap of a twig sounded in the distance and I stilled. What the blazes was that? Few monsters came this way, not at this time of the day at least. I glanced to the sky, trying to see the suns from between the sparse copse of trees; they burned high in the sky, which meant it was around midday.

  The crunch of feet in the dried grass reached my ears. I swallowed the meat and with a wave of my hand put the fire away. I picked up the branches that made up my grill and pushed everything inside my tree trunk.

  Then, I glamoured myself and hid. I hadn’t had time to put the panel over the hole in the trunk, but I scooted to the back and held my breath, hoping they wouldn’t hear or smell me.

  The monsters stepped into my small corner of trees and stopped. I spied them through a tiny crack in the tree trunk, praying to the gods of Wyth to help me once more.

  One of them said something in a language I couldn’t understand, his voice deep and rough. He pointed to the smoking firewood on the ground.

  Blaze, I had forgotten to clean that up too.

  They sniffed the air. A second later, one of them pointed to my tree and said something. The others responded.

  Three of the seven monsters advanced on the tree’s hole.

  I clenched my fist and called to my fire, knowing there was no way out of this other than fighting. Me against seven of them? It wouldn’t be pretty, but I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  One of the monsters knelt in front of the trunk’s entrance and looked inside. A nasty scar cut from his forehead to his cheek, and that eye was all white, giving me a ghostly vibe. Even so, he looked around, reaching in with his big, clumsy hand and sharp nails since he was too big to come inside.

  I sucked in my stomach, trying to make myself smaller, but I knew this was a lost cause.

  When his hand, in the shape of a claw, scratched against the sack containing my stuff, I dropped all pretense. I let my glamour fade and threw my hands out, sending a powerful jet of fire to him.

  The monster howled and clambered back.

  But then the others came forward.

  I stood in the tight hollow trunk, my legs apart and my arms raised, and sent my fire to the monsters, maiming them as best as I could. Until the ground started shaking and a loud groaning filled the air. In seconds, the tree was ripped from its roots, and I fell forward, faceplanting on the wet ground.

  One of the monsters closed its hand around my arms and torso and lifted me in the air as if I was a bug.

  He said something, followed by a hoarse sound that seemed like laughter. The others followed suit.

  I jerked against his hold, but nothing budged. I tried summoning my magic, but when the monster tightened his grip around me, making me dizzy and breathless, it was hard to focus. I lost the hold on my magic.

  And soon, I lost the hold on my consciousness.

  2

  Layla

  I pulled the hood of my black cloak lower over my face, held on tighter to my basket, and stepped out of the trees and into the narrow path leading to the marketplace.

  The marketplace was a long corridor of wooden stands, erected between a natural part of the forest, where the trees curved and created a canopy against the harsh double suns. It happened only twice a month, and brought together the many races that inhabited this realm.

  Orcs, gnolls, ogres, trolls, goblins, and even a handful of fae and humans—the last two races slaves to the monsters.

  Usually, when put together, all these races would be at each other’s throats in seconds. But there was a silent treaty here. While everyone was trading, there would be no arguments, no fights, no bloodshed.

  And most important of all: the orcs and trolls wouldn’t capture innocents to eat.

  I shuddered, remembering the few times I had narrowly escaped such a fate, especially when I had arrived in this forsaken land a little over five years ago and didn’t know any better.

  Now, even the trolls gave me a wide berth.

  Well, most of them anyway.

  I reached the first stands—some goblins sold trinkets they had stolen from others, orcs had custom-made swords and daggers, gnolls traded spices, and hobbits had some specialty cloaks and armor.

  From under my hood, I saw as the creatures noticed my arrival. Like a blanket, a hush fell over the marketplace, but as I kept on moving, pretending I hadn’t noticed anything, they resumed their activities almost as normally as before.

  Without wasting my time, I went directly to one of the stands in the middle of the marketplace. Juniha, the half-hobbit, half-gnoll who tended the stand, was known for her “delicious” breads and cakes—delicious had a different meaning here. If these creatures had even tasted the food of the other three realms I had visited prior to coming here, then they would know what delicious meant.

  I stopped in front of the stand, and Juniha smirked her sharp, yellow teeth at me. “I thought you wouldn’t come.” She stared at me with her dark eyes, her face distorted by the snout-like nose, a wide mouth, and long chin. She was stocky and short, and fur covered her thick neck and shoulders. I should be used to creatures like her by now, but sometimes I still thought I had stepped into the pages of a fantasy book—a dark and dangerous one.

  “I had to deal with some pests,” I answered in the common language. It had taken me awhile to learn it, and still now, I had to be extra careful with my accent.

  “Again?” she asked, pretending to be interested. She wasn’t. All she wanted was to buy the herbs and spices I sold, which she used to make her breads and cakes. But since we started business years ago, she knew better than to ignore me.

  “It seems it’ll always be like that,” I mumbled. Already tired from the trek here, and knowing I had to cross a good part of the forest to return home, I put my basket on her stand. “All right, here it is.”

  I unloaded all the herbs and spices, and she paid me in silver and bronze coins. As she handed me the money, she said the same thing she always did. “I wonder what you want with so much coin.”

  “Maybe one day I’ll tell you.”

  She snorted, an awkward sound with her big nose, and then she looked to the side and yelled something to another gnoll in her own language.

  Glad to have already been forgotten, I hooked the empty basket around my arm and turned to leave.

  And froze.

  The fae girl I had seen a handful of times hunkered in front of the stand across the path, her shoulders curled forward, her head low. Her auburn hair was dirtier than the last time I had seen her, and she had new purple bruises along her arms. And the damn metal shackles were still around her wrists and ankles—the four points connected to each other, to prevent her from running and getting too far if she ever decided to escape.

  I clenched my jaw and held on tighter to my basket, trying to calm the rage building inside me. She was barely a child, though I knew fae aged differently than humans and witches. She could well be a hundred years old, but to her people she was probably a teenager.

  And yet, somehow, she had ended up here a li
ttle over three years ago and was immediately captured by a vile troll. She had been his slave ever since. If I didn’t fear ruining my disguise, and if I didn’t know her captor was so nefarious, I would have freed her by now. But I knew him and he wouldn’t rest until he had her back, until he made her and the other who helped her pay for bothering him.

  There was nowhere I could take her.

  There were no portals out of here, unfortunately.

  The girl turned and her hazel eyes met mine for a brief second. Then, she recoiled deeper into herself and rushed to the next stand.

  I shook my head and shooed those feelings away. There was no reason to think about escape, or leaving, or saving anyone.

  Not anymore.

  I forced myself to move, to walk away. I had finished my business. Now, I could go back to my cottage and pretend this world was anything other than what it truly was.

  “I heard it from the ogres,” a goblin told a kitsune as I walked past their stand.

  “A new fae? Here?” The kitsune snorted, as if that was hard to believe. It was hard to believe, and for that, I stopped in my tracks and listened. “I doubt that.”

  “I’m telling you,” the goblin said, her words slurring under the common language. “I had to go to their keep this morning to deliver some supplies. It was all the ogres talked about.”