by Bekah Harris
“I kept my promise,” he said, “though I’m sorry it wasn’t in the way you had probably hoped. Please give my regards to your friend. I was too late for the other boy.”
Felicity nodded, leaning into Tristen as he approached and wrapped his arm around her.
“Where are you taking him?” Felicity asked.
“Turned or human, he still has a contract with Fhaescratch,” Tristen said. “He will be trained and kept here. Someone, probably Luca, will be appointed to teach them all self-control before they are allowed near the humans. He isn’t as he was, but in time, he will still be Dante.”
Ardan passed Dante off to a free guard, who carried him over his shoulder toward the dungeons, where he wouldn’t be a danger to himself or others. Felicity couldn’t stand the thought of him down there, in the cold damp air, overcome by thirst.
“What about the others?” Felicity asked.
“That will be for Fhaescratch and Padraic to discuss,” Ardan said. “My job is done, and as soon as things settle here, I will return to my wife. I do not like to be parted from her.”
Lyric and Lochlan finally slipped away from their duties and crossed the room. Before they were even close, Felicity ducked from beneath Tristen’s arm and sprinted toward them, throwing her arms around them both.
Laughing, they squeezed her tightly, just as they did when she was a little girl and cried out “group hug” after seeing it in a cartoon movie.
“You came,” Felicity whispered. “I knew you’d find a way.”
“Words cannot express how much we’ve missed you,” Lyric said. “How are you? Are they treating you well?”
There was so much to tell her parents, too much really, and she hoped they could stay for a while. She pulled back in for another hug when, without warning, the double doors burst open. Lochlan stood protectively in front of her and Lyric and then moved aside when he realized who it was.
King Barrett of Seelie stormed through the doors, heading straight toward Fhaescratch.
“Some privacy,” he barked, gesturing to the crowd still gathered in the dining hall.
Felicity’s heart bounced around like a pinball machine, echoing the lightshow of emotions flooding her system. King Barrett was her father. The father who had sent her away to spare her life—because he had been too weak to stand up to his mommy. As angry as that made her, though, he was still an enigma, and if she said she didn’t crave a place in his heart, she would be a liar. Her gaze flickered to Fhaescratch, noting the way his nostrils flared, and his eyes blinked from black to crimson.
“Cool your anger, Fhaescratch,” Barrett snapped. “I am not here to pick a fight. I am here to renegotiate the terms of our vow.”
At that, Fhaescratch arched his brows, raising his hand and moving it in a circular motion. At his command, the crowd broke apart and dispersed through every available door. Tristen took Felicity’s hand and turned with her to exit the room behind Lochlan, Lyric, Padraic, and Ardan.
Barret stepped in front of Felicity and Tristen, cutting them off.
“You two will stay.”
That couldn’t be good, Felicity thought. Her stomach thudded in rhythm with her pulse, her ears ringing with anxiety. The last time Barrett entered into an agreement with Fhaescratch, she wound up becoming the Mage of Lost Cove, which was really kind of like being a magical nun. She’d probably wind up wearing a habit before the night was finished. Barrett zeroed in on her and Tristen’s linked hands, his gaze flickering to her eyes for a moment before returning to Fhaescratch. He wisely kept his mouth shut this time. Tristen squeezed her hand, both of them shifting their weight as they waited on bated breath.
“I have kept my word,” Fhaescratch said. “I have protected your daughter time and again, sent my son and another trusted Laltog to watch over her in secret when things became dangerous, and I saved her life from a vampire that nearly ripped her throat out. She is safe. You cannot possibly have any grievance against me.”
Barrett smirked. “My memory is long, Fhaescratch, and I still have plenty of grievances against you, but now is neither the time nor the place to settle those.”
“Then, why are you here? You have kept your promise to keep the Seelie Fae out of my business, and so the Unseelies have filled the void, though I suppose I should be thanking them for discovering what was right under my nose the entire time.”
“That’s your problem, Fhaescratch,” Barret said, folding his arms. “You’re arrogant. As such, you believe no one close to you would dare betray you. And now look what a mess you’re in.”
Felicity felt Tristen tense beside her at Barrett’s reference to Queen Rowena. Tristen’s own mother had betrayed their entire coven and broken every sacred law in Lost Cove and Faerie. And Fhaescratch had never suspected a thing. Yet he didn’t look much like a man who had just lost his wife in a publicly humiliating way.
“State your business and leave,” Fhaescratch said.
“I want the turned humans in Faerie.”
To Felicity’s surprise, Fhaescratch burst out laughing, loud guffaws generated from deep in his belly that echoed from the cavernous walls.
“You can’t be serious,” he said. “The King of the Seelie Court and Realm is asking me to borrow my Darkling minions? That’s rich. What would you need with Laltogs in Seelie? As I recall, your kind has always been most adamant to slaughter them without a shiver.”
Felicity shrugged. Fhaescratch had a point.
“I’ll be blunt,” Barrett said. “My own son plots against me.”
“If I remember correctly, you are not the true Seelie heir; you were not born of Torin’s line. Your son is. When he comes of age, the throne is rightfully his. Why stand in his way?”
“Because Seelie is at peace. There is balance and equality, not only among the seasonal courts but between the Seelie and Unseelie Realms as well. Prince Dillon has more in common with his mother and grandmother than he does with me.”
Fhaescratch raised his brows. “What a conundrum. Tell me, though, how will a hundred or so ill-trained Laltogs help you?”
“Rowena and Kyla are both missing, and I imagine they have their sights set on the Seelie Realm,” he said. “That means they’ll be coming for me in the hopes of unseating me and slaughtering my entire family. As you can imagine, I cannot trust my own guards.”
“What is that to me?”
“With proper training, the turned Laltogs can serve as my guards to protect me until another plan can be put into motion.”
“You want them to kill Prince Dillon?”
Barrett flinched as if he’d been punched. “Of course not, though I can see how you would automatically leap to murder. I don’t want my son killed. I want him replaced.”
Their eyes flickered to Felicity.
Realization dawned with all the subtlety of a battering ram. She shook her hand. “Don’t you dare bring me into this,” she hissed. “You got rid of me. You sent me away and never even bothered to care until I resurfaced. You don’t get to use me as backup heir. It’s not going to happen. I won’t do it.”
That’s why Barrett wanted to keep her in Lost Cove. That’s why he asked for Fhaescratch to protect her. This was his plan all along. He didn’t care about her beyond using her to suit his political goals.
Barrett and Fhaescratch examined her for a moment as if she were a science experiment before looking back at each other.
“I have demands,” Fhaescratch said.
“I would expect no less from you.”
“Really, Barrett, you wound me.” Fhaescratch eyed Felicity and his son, scratching his chin with his sharp nails.
Felicity’s insides rose to her chest, trying to squeeze up her throat. Her heart pounded in her ears. Tristen’s hand tightened around hers.
“Felicity and Tristen shall be betrothed,” Fhaescratch said. “United, you get your new heir, and I get my vengeance when Rowena strikes against Seelie. Having my son as the Royal Seelie Consort as long as I reign here als
o has a nice ring to it.”
Felicity nearly choked on her tongue. She gaped at Tristen, trying to gauge his reaction, but his face was a blank slate, unreadable. But his eyes flickered red as he looked at his father.
Barrett turned to her, once again, examining their linked hands. Then, he paced back and forth, as if considering the idea and possible outcomes as he moved.
“They’re practically inseparable,” Fhaescratch said. “And when Tristen isn’t inventing ways to be near her, he’s thinking about her. And Felicity seems to return his affections, as well. A mutual attraction and friendship is more than most royals have before marriage.”
Felicity couldn’t stand anymore. They were talking about her like she wasn’t standing there, waiting for two men to determine her fate, as if she were no more than a prized cow.
“You can’t just waltz in here like you’re daddy dearest ready to be a father and then sell me in a deal,” she said. “You can’t come in here like you own me and plan my entire future.”
“You seem fond of Tristen,” Fhaescratch said. “I don’t see the problem?”
“The problem is that I’m seventeen, and I don’t want to marry anyone.”
Barrett turned slowly and paced back toward his daughter.
“Felicity, I know you don’t understand our ways, but this is the way things are done among royals,” Barrett said. “I was not given a choice in either marriage.”
“And look how that turned out.”
“I have you, don’t I?”
“As if you care.”
“Felicity.” Tristen’s voice tore her antagonistic glare from her father.
He wore the strangest expression, sad and distant but resigned.
“I know this isn’t what you signed up for when you came to Lost Cove, but it could be worse. I was engaged to Kyla, and I hated her. At least I like you.”
“Gee, thanks,” Felicity snapped. “I think you’re pretty swell, too, bud.”
She slugged him on the shoulder like a boon companion.
“That isn’t what I meant,” he said. “I like you. Really and truly. I thought you knew how I feel.”
“Yeah, and now there’s a kingdom in play to sweeten the deal.”
Tristen recoiled against her remarks, as if she’d slapped him.
Guilt tugged at her chest, but the floodgates were already open.
How would she ever know how Tristen truly felt about her when their impending marital bliss was a transaction? It was straight out of a regency romance. The heiress who came with a hefty dowry that included power and property.
“Ah, unrequited love,” Fhaescratch said, facing Tristen. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“I never said it was unrequited,” Felicity snapped. “I said I didn’t want to get married.”
Barrett and Fhaescratch looked at her like she were from an alien planet. Then, ignoring her, they faced one another again.
“The marriage will not transpire until she is deemed the true heir,” Barrett said.
“But their betrothal can be announced at once,” Fhaescratch said.
Barrett nodded. He extended his hand. “I, Barrett, King of the Seelie Realm and Court, do vow that Tristen, son of Fhaescratch, shall wed my daughter, Felicity, heir of Seelie, in exchange for an army of Laltogs bound to protect me and sworn to remain loyal to me.”
Without the slightest hesitation, Fhaescratch clasped Barrett’s hand and shook. The glimmering magic of the Incorruptible Vow wound around their hands, binding their agreement unto death.
Felicity pulled her hand from Tristen’s, backing away in disbelief. She was only seventeen, and her fate had just been sealed. Without another word, she fled the room, sprinting past Laltogs and Unseelie guards. She took the stairs two at a time and burst through the main entrance and into the cold, pre-dawn air. The humans had gathered around the castle, waiting to hear the outcome of the assault. Felicity searched the crowd until she found who she was seeking.
Raven was holding Alice, who sobbed against her shoulder. When Raven met Felicity’s eyes, there was no warmth, only pain and judgment. She must have known about Dante. She must have seen him, or maybe someone told her. Felicity paused, meeting her eyes. Raven shook her head and then turned away, leading Alice down the hill.
She needed...someone. Anyone. She scanned the crowd for Nan. She searched for Lyric and Lochlan, but they were nowhere to be found.
Felicity was alone.
There were no familiar faces, no warm embraces waiting to comfort her. She was a Fae in a realm full of Laltogs and no one trusted her. Tears burning her eyes, she fled toward the forest and flung herself down on the creek bank.
How many times had she longed for Tristen? How many times had she wished for some way to be with him?
Now that she had him, it was too much too fast, and she didn’t know what to do with her feelings. Her entire life had changed in the three weeks since she had been in Lost Cove. In the span of a ten-minute conversation, her freedom of choice had been stolen, her entire future determined as if she were no more than a pawn in some twisted game. Pulling her knees to her chest, she rested her head against her legs and tried to make her world stop spinning.
She was engaged to a Laltog Prince.
She was heir to the Seelie Realm.
She was expected to unseat her twin brother from the throne he’d considered his own since birth, and she didn’t even know what that entailed.
After a time, footsteps crunched across the dry leaves.
“Do you truly believe I would only want you for your throne?” Tristen sat down beside her, staring down at his feet.
“I’m so sorry I said that,” Felicity said, guilt burrowing in her chest. “I was so angry, and I said things I didn’t mean.”
Tristen took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers before pressing a kiss to her cool skin. “It was wrong what they did to you,” he said, “and I’m sorry for it.”
“What they did to us,” Felicity whispered.
“To you,” Tristen said. “My fate has never been my own. For the first time in my life, I actually feel a glimmer of hope. Excitement, even. I was always going to marry whoever my father chose. I had accepted it. I just can’t believe it’s you.”
Taken aback, Felicity’s eyes widened as she looked up at him, speechless.
“I know this isn’t fair to you,” he continued, “but I swear to you, I will be here with you every step of the way. No matter what happens, I will fight beside you, and we will face whatever comes together.”
The knot in Felicity’s middle loosened slightly, and she considered what her father had said. It could be a worse arrangement. But she wasn’t ready to be married. She wasn’t ready to betray estranged family members or become queen of an entire realm. She was barely passing Algebra. But as Tristen looked at her with those intense black eyes in that way that made her shiver, she knew he, at least, was being honest.
Little by little, he closed the distance between them and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips and held her close as the sun peeked over the mountains. It was like a sweet promise, a faint whisper that whatever she faced in the coming weeks, she wouldn’t face any of it alone.
About the Author
Born and raised in the mountains of East Tennessee, Bekah Harris has been writing since she could hold a pencil. The beauty of her home in the Appalachian Mountains, along with the legends, myths, and folklore of that area, is what inspires the unique plots and settings captured in her young adult fiction. In addition to her love of all things fictional, in addition to writing books, Bekah also teaches high school English and does freelance editing. When not working, Bekah can be found relaxing at home with her husband, son, and two cats.
Also by Bekah Harris
Iron Crown Faerie Tales Series
The Thorn Princess
Heir of Iron Hearts
Game of Shadows
Reign of Darkness
The Glass Scepter
; Queen of Ice and Snow
Native Guardian Series
The Spirit Breather
The Spirit Warrior
The Spirit Battle
The Spirit Reaping
