Caged: A Fae Fantasy Romance (Fae Magic Book 4) Page 27
Once she’d been a queen. A lonely, miserable, young queen with an abusive husband who went through women faster than he went through wine. But she’d had hope. She was the one destined to have the heir.
It had been foretold that Oberon would have only one son, a golden boy with power and good looks who would rule multiple kingdoms. And it had been foretold that his queen would only have the one son as well and that together their powers would mingle into one of the finest kings the Tuathan had ever had.
But then the Black King had decided he wanted that power for himself. The evil man had glamoured his only daughter, stealing her powers and turning her human, then sending her as a present to Oberon. And that had been Aoife’s undoing.
The Princess Aeval had been just as young as this Thorn girl, when she’d come disguised as a human and entered Oberon’s bed as a sex slave. Aoife hadn’t needed to hear her screaming to know what he was doing. He was a twisted man, and the only thing that had saved her was her royal lineage and the fact that she was to bear his child. But that had never come to pass.
Humans were far more fertile than the fae and the Black King had used his powerful magic to steal the prophecy for his daughter. She became the queen who was to have the heir. The little human slave got secretly pregnant, the Black King had stolen her back, and no one had known for years why Aoife could not conceive.
Oberon had been furious. She was supposed to have his baby and when she didn’t Oberon grew crueler and crueler. He’d taken out his rage at his infertility on her. Finally she’d scraped together what self-esteem she’d had left and gone. He’d been furious. Even though he’d finally banned her from his bed and was determined to take on a newer younger queen it had still taken all of her family’s connections to get her out of the marriage alive, and with enough money and power to give her this estate.
She’d retired here, a scared and shamed barren woman. There were no titles for ex-queens, other than ‘Lady’. She’d faded from memory, and had come very close to fading out of existence all together.
Then one day, she’d visited the Oracle. And he’d given her the truth—her fertility and her future had been stolen from her. And it was all the fault of that raving maniac, Aeval, who had come out of Oberon’s bed a crazy woman with three personalities and a cruel streak of her own.
From that moment on it had become her mission to kill Aeval, like the Black Queen had killed Aoife’s dreams, her social standing, and her entire life. But it wasn’t that easy.
When the Black King had stolen her fertility and implanted it in his daughter, he’d also made sure that Aoife couldn’t kill the wench directly. Oh, the Black Queen could die, but Aoife was completely unable to raise her hand to the woman, a thing she had discovered the first time she’d tried to kill her, after her visit to the Oracle.
She’d stolen her only chance at motherhood. She’d stolen her life as the Golden Queen, and she’d even stolen her ability to wreck vengeance down on the perpetrator. And to this day, over two hundred years later, Aoife still could not forgive.
Nor did she forget.
If she’d been able to kill Aeval herself, it would have been done hundreds of years ago. But she couldn’t. Oh, no. Because of the stupid prophecy and the spell for fertility that had backfired on her years ago, she had to depend on morons like that Ardan. And once again, just when her revenge was almost in her grasp, she was about to explode in frustration.
The flower fairies clustered around her again, brushing her cheeks with their moth-like wings, their tiny ringing voices irritating her beyond belief.
“Go! Scat!” She waved her hand and sent a blast of wind blowing through the courtyard. Fairies flew high into the air, clinging to the branches of the majestic elm trees, fluttering their wings frantically in an effort not to be lost to the wind.
Aoife shook her head and went into the house. Silly things. If they weren’t such great alarm dogs, she’d send an exterminator after them and get back a peaceful front yard.
“Lena!” Inside, the house was quiet. “Where is that girl?”
She didn’t need a large staff. She rarely entertained and the magic of the house kept it running smoothly and efficiently, but there were some things better done by hand. Preparing food, for instance. One never knew when a spell set on auto would go haywire, and she liked her tea prepared just so. But some days she wished she didn’t have any staff at all.
“Lena!”
The girl raced in from the door under the stairs. “Yes, my lady.” She slid to a halt on the highly polished marble floor and bobbed up and down.
“Straighten your hair. And you have a smudge on your apron.” Aoife took off her star-covered cloak and handed it to the girl. “I want tea in the living room in ten minutes.”
The girl took too long to go, seeming to struggle under the weight of the cloak. “Well, come on then. Ten minutes.”
“Yes, my lady.” She scurried off.
Aoife caught sight of herself in the large hall mirror. Her lovely aged face shimmered and the glamour dropped. Small lines and wrinkles disappeared, her hair gained its innate golden glow. She smiled at the violet eyes in her reflection, checking as always for any signs of aging. Gone was the stately Lady Aoife, gently aged and due respect. Now you could see, she’d hit her stride. A thousand years old, and she was still stunningly beautiful. Not that beauty had ever done her any good.
She sniffed at her reflection and went upstairs to change into yoga pants and t-shirt. By the time she’d made it into the living room, furnished with a well-balanced mix of modern comfortable seating, and antiques she’d collected over the years, tea was waiting. She settled into a low-backed sofa and tucked her slippered feet up under her, staring out the back window at the rolling grass in the back garden.
What a disaster Ardan had turned out to be.
Why was it every time she sent some man to do the job of killing the Black Queen, they failed? For the first few hundred years she’d been unable to pierce the safeguards surrounding the Black Court. The young queen had guarded herself well. But now Aeval had been betrayed by her own man and was wandering the countryside with no one to protect her. She should have been dead already.
How hard could it be to kill one woman?
If only she could do the deed herself. But thanks to her own stupidity years ago with that infertility spell, she couldn’t. Now she had to resort to fools, like this one.
Aoife’s fingers curled and her nails dug into her palms. She forced them open, took a deep restorative breath, and poured a steaming cup of green tea.
She might not be able to kill the Black Queen, but someone should be able to. The prophecy that the Oracle had given her so long ago was supposed to be the key. He’d sworn it would destroy Aeval.
One like ivy shall entwine
An elven prince wilt then be bind
This downfall then the queen’s shall be
Enacted by the MacElvy
She’d done everything she could to set it into motion, even two hundred years ago getting a niece of hers pregnant by some grubby gypsy, all to get a line of MacElvy witches with strong enough magic to take down a Tuathan queen.
She’d tracked them. Protected the last of them from the Black Queen when Aeval had found out about the prophecy and sworn to destroy all the MacElvys.
But it didn’t matter. All of it had failed.
The prince and his little MacElvy bride, her great-great-great-grandniece, had gotten together and fought the queen and won. But Aeval had regrouped. Eventually, the prince and his armies had broken into the Summer Palace and everyone had seen the Black Queen die.
But had she?
Aoife had hoped. She’d wished. She’d celebrated with everyone else, ding-dong, the queen is dead. But then the stories had come trickling in via her web of spies. Stories of a woman with black hair and black eyes sparking with purple lights. Stories of spells, and havoc, and torture.
And Aoife had known—the bitch had survived.
He was desperate. Desperate to belong. Desperate to survive. She’d set him up with a quest: bring back the head of the Black Queen and win your life, and possibly a place in Prince Kian’s court.
He should have been amply motivated.
But he’d frittered away his year, spent half of it searching for that damn lodestone. Lodestones were tricky things. It might take him to the queen, or it might send him on a wild goose chase. Goddess knew the Oracle had given her enough faulty prophecies, from the one predicting Aeval’s death, to the one predicting the birth of the Golden King’s son. Her son. Or the one that should have been her son but instead had been stolen by that traitorous little bitch Aeval.
It was her own fault. She should have kept better tabs on Ardan in the beginning. He wasn’t used to being out on his own. He needed a strong woman to tell him what to do. Now, she had no choice but to make sure he succeeded. She wasn’t going to let him fail her again. She’d follow him closely. And when he finally found Aeval, she’d make sure he did the deed.
AEVAL—AT LEAST SHE thought that was her name, lately she didn’t always remember—twirled in circles. Her bright red curls spun out behind her as she laughed at the pair of tiny fairies hanging on to her hands.
“Enough!” She let them go.
Their bright lights flew up into the air between the tops of the trees and she fell down in a heap, soft chiffon skirts poufing up around her like sinking into piles of sweet meringues.
She had no idea how long she’d been here, dancing and playing with the lesser fae in this hazy dream of a party, but she didn’t care. Nothing mattered here in the glen where the haze of the party spun on and on. Even the edges of the wooded glade were foggy with mist and the light never changed.
It could have been minutes or hours or days. Even years.
As soon as she had the serious thought that it must be getting late and she should leave the party, someone would drag her back into the dance. Or over to the refreshments.
And that would be that. She’d go whirling off in another masked partner’s arms. Or drink some more wine. Or lose herself licking the cream from the center of a tea cake.
As she watched the fairies float off into the trees to join the other lights twinkling in the leaves, she had the nebulous thought that she should be doing something else. That she had a life somewhere, where she did something besides dance and laugh and drink.
But concentrating on anything was too much work and she let the thought go, instead taking the hand of a man with legs like a goat and the brawny chest of a wrestler, his face hidden behind a golden mask. And she was off, only to be lost in the dance yet again.
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Dear Reader,
Thanks so much for reading Siobhan and Doyle’s story. This book was a total surprise for me. I didn’t expect to write it, it wasn’t in the plan, but when I wrote ENCHANTED and discovered the true story behind Bosco’s pain, I realized he had a sister who was in trouble. So I had to get Siobhan out of the Winter Queen’s clutches.
That’s how CAGED came to be. And as I wrote about Doyle and his baby dragon egg, I now knew that there were lots more dragon stories to be told.
Right now, they’re on the back burner, but if you want the story behind how Doyle got to Underhill, I do have that one written. It’s called: BEFORE THE WINTER QUEEN and so far it’s only been available to my newsletter subscribers as a special bonus.
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What’s next?
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I’m sure you’ve already One Clicked BESPELLED, and are discovering how two of my darker characters: Ardan and Aeval, get their happy-ever-after. And then it’s on to HIDDEN. If you read ROMANCED (only available to newsletter subscribers) then you know that there’s an entire story waiting to be told, and that’s what HIDDEN is all about. It’s a true Cinderella twist. And there are so many more Fae Magic romances coming! I know you’ll love them! ☺
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-Jessica
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SEXY SHIFTER FAIRYTALE ROMANCES
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SNOW
GOLDI
SCARLETT
SILVER
CINDER
WOLF ENFORCERS
WOLF ENFORCER
LONE ENFORCER
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DEDICATED TO DRAGON lovers everywhere!
And to my Colorado Romance Writer peeps, who always keep me going, even when it feels like I should stop. Thanks so much to all of you!
To my love—Jeff, I can’t imagine where I’d be without you.
To K & B—thanks for all the fish! LOL!
And of course to Jessa Slade for her fabulous editing, Carol Agnew for her fabulous proofing, and to Ivytail designs for all the hours helping me tweak those covers
Love you all!
-Jessica
Copyright Information
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person living or dead, or any events and occurrences is purely coincidental. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review. Please purchase only authori
zed editions.
Copyright 2017 by Jessica Aspen
Originally published as THE WINTER QUEEN’S DRAGON, January 2017 by Abracadabra Publishing
All rights reserved
Cover design: Ivytail Designs
All rights reserved
Dedicated to dragon lovers everywhere!
And to my Colorado Romance Writer peeps, who always keep me going, even when it feels like I should stop. Thanks so much to all of you!
To my love—Jeff, I can’t imagine where I’d be without you.
To K & B—thanks for all the fish! LOL!
And of course to Jessa Slade for her fabulous editing, Carol Agnew for her fabulous proofing, and to Ivytail designs for all the hours helping me tweak those covers
Love you all!
-Jessica
Copyright Information
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person living or dead, or any events and occurrences is purely coincidental. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review. Please purchase only authorized editions.
Copyright 2017 by Jessica Aspen
Originally published as THE WINTER QUEEN’S DRAGON, January 2017 by Abracadabra Publishing
All rights reserved
Cover design: Ivytail Designs
All rights reserved