Warrior Fae Princess

by Breene, K. F.

  Warrior Fae Princess

  K.F. Breene

  Copyright © 2019 by K.F. Breene

  All rights reserved. The people, places and situations contained in this ebook are figments of the author’s insane imagination and in no way reflect real or true events.

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  Contents

  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

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Epilogue

  Start DDVN World with Born in Fire

  Also by K.F. Breene

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Steve hummed a little tune as he waited on the Brink side of the portal in the South Side of Chicago. He would get the rare opportunity of shepherding in the new guys Roger had sent to join Devon’s pack. Rough and fierce, these three shifters were called in when things got hairy. Given Charity was getting strong magical surges and needed to be rushed through the dangerous wilds to the Flush, a place in the Realm where a subset of fae lived, so she could get aid from what was hopefully her people, Devon was going to need experience in his numbers.

  Speaking of Devon—Steve checked his watch—he and his pack were supposed to be there ten minutes ago. Their flight from Santa Cruz must’ve been delayed.

  It wasn’t like Roger to trust Steve with authoritative duties. Hell, it wasn’t like Roger to trust Steve with anything besides fighting. The alpha liked to keep Steve on a tight leash where he could. Then again, maybe Roger thought Emery would keep things in line. The Rogue Natural would be leading them through the wilds, trying to sneak around the elves who were patrolling in large numbers. It would be a longer and slower route than most other ways, but that was why there wouldn’t be elves standing in the way. He knew the wilds of the Realm as well as anyone could. His knowledge made him indispensable. But his choice of company made Roger a little nervous.

  Emery ran with a couple of magical chicks that could bring a grown man to tears. One of those chicks, a fire-starter with a joy of killing things, was shacking up with an elder vampire. Vlad’s buddy, to be precise. If they didn’t need his expertise so badly, no way would Roger use him.

  Roger apparently didn’t realize that Emery wasn’t one to follow orders any better than Steve. He was supposed to be here too, but the mage had decided to wait in Seattle until the last minute, where he’d then use a couple of magical fast tracks, somehow skirting past loitering elves to do so, and rendezvous with Devon’s pack at the agreed-upon time and place. It was dicey, Emery’s plan, especially since he’d expressly forbidden those types of patrolled magical roads when Charity was in tow, but it wasn’t Steve’s place to say boo. Given that Emery wasn’t pack, Roger couldn’t do dick about his decision, which was how Steve had gotten the solo role of fucking with the new guys.

  Roger should’ve known better.

  Steve looked around the deserted warehouse parking lot. This place was a real dump. Trash littered the streets, show windows were boarded up or broken, and a couple of used condoms were draped over a cracked parking bump five feet away. A fixer-upper, but the people here sure knew how to party.

  He hoped someone tried to mug him.

  The portal shimmered white before a booted foot stepped through the jagged slice in the sky. Although Steve didn’t know these shifters personally, he’d seen all three of them in passing and heard plenty of stories. Steve combined with these three would equal ten decent shifters on the battlefield—they were that good.

  The first to step through was Dale, complete with a stupid-looking mustache and a bump in the side of his lower lip from his chewing tobacco. He trained his small black eyes on Steve before letting them drift away, sussing out the area.

  “This place is a shithole,” Dale said, taking a wide stance with his hands on his hips. “This where that chick’s father lives?”

  “The broken-down warehouse, yes.” Steve pointed at the condoms. “This is her boudoir where she entertains menfolk. She wasn’t here, though, so they just got after it themselves. Too bad you missed the action.”

  Dale shook his head, his gaze barely flicking toward the mess. “Do you got duct tape for that mouth?”

  “My, my. Kinky. Sorry, Chuck, I don’t swing that way.”

  Dale’s eyebrows pinched together. “My name is Dale, and I wanted that tape to shut you up, dipshit.”

  Steve grinned. Nothing irritated self-important pricks more than when you got their names wrong.

  They were here to do what Alder, the beta of the North American pack, hadn’t been able to do those few months ago—talk to Charity’s father and try to get some proof of Charity’s ancestry. They wanted to make sure she was actually custodes—a guardian—a subset of fae known to their people as protectors. Back before the elves took the Realm in hand, giving it order and decency, the custodes watched over the fae, using their superior strength and speed to keep the beasties away. It was because of this efficiency and brutality in battle that they earned a nickname from the rest of the magical world. They weren’t called protectors—they were called warriors.

  Steve didn’t often listen to Alder’s history lessons, but this one had had him in rapt attention. He remembered Charity at what he now referred to as Vlad’s impromptu barbecue. She was fierce and intense, ripping through vamps and demons like she was born to it. It had been thrilling. He wanted to know more of her people.

  But first, they had to know more about her.

  So after the little meet-and-greet with Daddy, they would trek deep into the Realm, hoping to get Charity fixed up. Roger figured Charity could get the pack past the old man and his shotgun without someone getting shot. From what Steve had heard, Charity wasn’t so sure.

  Barbara stepped through the portal next, her camo jumpsuit and army boots strange for this detail. The only plants in the area were the brown, scraggly bushes and a few dying trees dotting the sidewalk. She clearly hadn’t quite understood the term urban jungle.

  Despite her dress-code confusion, she was a moderately attractive lady with a good, perky rack. Steve had heard she was a humorless woman with no use for men, but maybe that was because she hadn’t gotten tickled just right yet. He wouldn’t mind showing her how fun a man could be. They’d have to do something about that intense scowl, though. It was a dick shriveler, for sure.

  Cole came through last, all six feet, five inches of him. The guy was massive, with a barrel chest, thick, swinging arms, and a big, flat face. He looked like he’d gotten kicked repeatedly with an ugly boot and left for dead.

  Steve had seen the were-yeti in battle a few times, and the dude was fierce. Cole didn’t give a damn what the danger was; he ran flat-out at anything the enemy could throw at him. Granted
, flat-out was more of a slow lumber, but when he eventually got there, he ripped through his opponent no holds barred, vicious and intense.

  Steve nearly chuckled.

  Three intense fighters, a Rogue Natural who’d earned his stripes by going his own way, a warrior fae losing control of her magic, and a green alpha who intended to lead them all.

  Steve would never say it to the alpha’s face, because he didn’t want his head ripped off, but this whole situation was a clusterfuck. Roger was crazy for thinking a college kid could lead these rough-and-tumble shifters. They’d walk all over Devon the instant he issued an order one of them didn’t like. The discord would likely make the Rogue Natural bugger off back to his crazy old lady and her vampire-loving friend.

  If Steve were a smarter man, he never would have volunteered for this detail.

  “What’s the story with the kid alpha, anyway?” Dale asked as Barbara noticed the condoms not far from her boot. She didn’t bother shifting away, just looked on, scouting the area. Nerves of steel, definitely. “Roger didn’t give us too much to go on.”

  “He’s an up-and-comer,” Steve answered, checking the time on his phone. No word on what was keeping Devon. They must’ve been close. “He was the head of a pack in charge of extinguishing newbies. Did well there. I hear he took out a couple mid-level vamps on his own, and had a go at Vlad.”

  “Got his ass handed to him,” Barbara said, eyes scanning. “Rookie move, going for Vlad.”

  “He did it to save the fae,” Cole boomed, incapable of volume control. He’d be great at the hiding game, surely. Good call, Roger. “I was there. I saw it.”

  “Still,” Barbara said.

  Dale spat out a stream of brown liquid. “Vlad is of particular interest to the elves, lately. I got stopped by one of their grunts as I was running through the Realm. A sprite. She asked what had prompted Roger to try to take Vlad down.”

  “What’d you say?” Cole boomed.

  “He’s only a few feet away from you, bro,” Steve said, putting some distance between himself and the were-yeti. “You don’t need to yell.”

  Dale shrugged at Cole. “A load of bollocks. That they had a grudge match because Roger got all his newbies…”

  “If an elf had stopped you, they would’ve known you were lying,” Barbara said. “They would’ve hauled you in.”

  “No shit,” Dale said, exasperated. “I would’ve run like hell from an elf. What do you think I am, stupid?”

  “At times,” Barbara replied.

  Dale scowled—and then scowled harder when he saw Steve’s smirk.

  “What’s the story with Vlad, anyway?” Dale asked. “I heard he hasn’t been seen in a while.”

  “Went underground when Charity barbecued him,” Steve said.

  “Underground, but not dormant,” Barbara replied. “Only a fool would think he wasn’t watching that fae from the shadows. He’s planning. That’s what elders do. They strategize.”

  “Very insightful.” Steve winked at Barbara. “You have a real knack for stating the well known.”

  “Asshole.” Barbara went back to scanning.

  “It is true,” Cole said. “Both the repeating of information we already know, and that Vlad is still active. I’ve heard how much interest he showed that girl. I was there when he tried to take her. He showed his determination. He won’t let her go easily. He’s just waiting for the right moment to strike again.”

  “Which brings us to why you’re here,” Steve said.

  Cole nodded, his chest puffed out. Where an elder vampire would give most creatures pause, Cole just readied for battle.

  “Where’s the Rogue Natural, by the way?” he asked, giving Steve some suspicious side-eye. “He was supposed to be here.”

  “He’ll meet us on the other side.”

  “That right?” Dale continued his sideways stare. “I also heard you wasn’t a pack man.”

  Steve’s smile grew at the soft threat. “Au contraire—that’s French, by the way—I love Pac-Man. I spent a great deal of time playing it as a kid. Oops, here we are now.”

  Two vans, white and beige, pulled up alongside the crumbling curb, stopping near a pile of trash in front of a sign that said “no dumping.” The doors of the vans slid open, ejecting four guys and three gals. Devon, the black-haired lady-killer, glanced Steve’s way as Charity stepped up next to him. Her delicate features belied her obvious power. She didn’t touch Devon, but Steve knew a lot about body language, and he noticed the way the young alpha leaned into her just a bit, sharing personal space with her. He dropped his head to her, whispering something.

  “That’s them, huh?” Dale asked before spitting.

  “Nailed it,” Steve told him.

  “He’s younger than I remember,” Cole boomed.

  Steve turned back to glance at the grim-faced snow-giant. “You embarrass yourself a lot, I take it. No wonder Reagan picked on you.”

  Cole’s face crumpled into anger and his hands curled into fists. He’d been the only one brave enough to rise to Reagan’s taunting one night in New Orleans. She’d had her hands full with him. He would’ve ripped her head off if she hadn’t set his fur on fire.

  “Oops. Sore subject?” Steve grinned.

  Devon stalked toward them, power and authority brimming from his athletic frame. In his lesser twenties, he was still filling out, gaining a man’s muscle and honing his strength. That didn’t diminish the dominance and power that wafted from him like it was his birthright.

  He stopped in front of the new pack members, his confidence not the only thing carrying his mantle. Steve’s eyes widened as a thick, suffocating wave of magic rolled over him. It was the feeling he got whenever Roger stepped into a room, though not as potent. Not yet, anyway. In just a few months, Devon’s power had obviously grown. It was heads and tails more intense than Steve had remembered. That was some fast maturing for this young buck.

  “Steve.” Devon stuck out his hand.

  “Alpha.” The handshake was firm and personal. Good politics.

  “Emery?”

  “Has no interest in seeing the sights of Chicago. He’ll meet us on the other side.”

  Devon nodded as the rest of his pack drifted in behind him, Charity in the lead.

  That was interesting. Had Charity naturally assumed the position of beta, or had Devon assigned it to her? Either way, the rest of the pack had acknowledged her status.

  Devon’s gaze touched on each new person before settling on Dale. Good instincts. Dale was absolutely the one to worry about. Steve had heard rumors regarding Dale’s penchant for taking over packs he’d been sent to help, but it would have been obvious regardless. His body language screamed challenge, from his tense posture to his slight forward lean. He had no respect for this up-and-comer.

  “I’m Cole,” the yeti said, and Charity’s brow wrinkled. She was probably wondering why he was shouting at everyone. “I took part in the battle on your property.”

  “Yes, of course,” Devon said without skipping a beat, though Steve was certain Roger had kept that detail from him. Devon stepped forward to offer his hand.

  Dale spat, the splash landing only a foot from Devon’s shoe.

  “Gross,” Charity said, wrinkling her nose. Apparently no one had told her to look badass and say very little when meeting new shifters. How delightful.

  “Barbara.” Barbara nodded, not one for touching in any capacity. More’s the pity. Devon, picking up on her vibe, nodded in return.

  He turned to the side and pointed at a brown-haired guy with a vague sort of face who wouldn’t stand out in a lineup. “That’s my beta, Dillon.”

  Steve barely contained his surprise. The pack had a gap in communication where the beta was concerned, that was clear. Titles didn’t match how they acted.

  “That’s Macy, beside him.” Devon indicated a short, thin lady with brown hair and a hard expression. She didn’t look like much, but Steve bet she was trouble in a pinch. A stunning blonde was n
ext. “Yasmine, and beside her, Rod.”

  Steve remembered Rod, the linebacker. He’d be a real bruiser someday soon.

  “And Andy,” Devon finished, motioning at a surfer-looking guy Steve didn’t recall. He hadn’t gotten friendly with the locals after the skirmish at Devon’s house.

  Each new pack member nodded in turn, except for Barbara, who stared without blinking.

  “We have reason to suspect Charity’s dad is in the house,” Devon said. “He wasn’t too welcoming when Roger’s people stopped by a few months ago. Prepare for an altercation upon entering.”

  “Yeah, but…we have her.” Cole motioned at a dour-faced Charity.

  “He won’t be happy to see me,” Charity mumbled. “We had…words before I left for college. He’s not expecting me back.”

  “Getting past one old man isn’t a problem.” Dale’s brown spit splattered the hot cement. “Devon, you take your crew and I’ll load up these guys. We’ll rendezvous at the address Roger supplied.”

  Steve grimaced. They’d barely given intros and already Dale was trying to assume control. This whole thing could derail right now. There were two strong leaders in this group, and they wouldn’t be satisfied until one submitted to the other. The grapple for power might explode before they even hit the road.

  Devon’s unwavering stare hardened. Silence rolled through the crowd, only interrupted by Charity scratching the center of her chest.