Prince of Never: A Fae Romance (Black Blood Fae Book 1)

Ever

After I submit an agonizing report on my latest failed bride-mission to the queen, I return to my rooms alone to bathe and eat dinner. Try as I might to extinguish it, the human’s angry, dirt-smeared face haunts every flicker of candlelight, every shadow that dances over the murals and tapestries lining my chamber walls.

Why? I have no idea, but her image infuriates me, and my inability to banish it spoils even the simplest of pleasures. The bath water is too cold, then too hot. The baked fish and wild berries, bland and barely edible. The wine is sour. My skin itches.

Tamping down anger, I dress for a meeting in the queen’s council chambers to discuss the Merits’ imminent visit, each movement stiff and clumsy.

Long have I dreaded finding the mate Aer has chosen for me underneath the Crystalline Oak. But yesterday at dawn, as I watched the amber moon rock in the tree’s branches, I wished her body would materialize out of the mist. I yearned to act swiftly and destroy her, ridding myself in one gruesome deed of the queen-who-never-will-be.

Of course, if I kill her, I’m guaranteeing myself a slow and painful death, which I can face if it thwarts Aer’s plans for revenge upon our line. But then the curse will likely pass to Raff after my demise, and that idea gives me nightmares.

When Father died, the black blood passed to my brother Rain. When Rain died, it passed to me. So it follows that, if I let it kill me, it will infect Raff. Therefore, to save Raff, I should find my chosen mate, become king—and allow the curse to swallow my sons after me.

This leaves me with an impossible dilemma. I must decide who I value more, my brother or my future sons. The thought of choosing either, disgusts me.

And Aer. Aer teases and hints that the curse may one day perish along with an heir—just not which heir or when. If there was a way to end her, the savage Sorceress of the Seven Winds, then that is the choice I would make.

To snap her neck.

Break her body.

Collapse her lungs.

With a grimace, I strap on a sword, a dagger, swig a last mouthful of bitter wine, and proceed to climb a spiraling staircase to the war room, three guards falling in line behind me. As we ascend to the top of the highest tower in the kingdom, each clomping step at my back rattles my bones. Without their escort, does the queen fear I won’t attend?

“Leave me,” I tell the blank-faced soldiers when I arrive, then push open the heavily carved doors.

The room is empty save for the furniture—a massive table, seven chairs, and a long sideboard groaning under the weight of three silver trays bearing figs, baked delicacies, and sweetmeats.

I flash my palm at the gaping fireplace, smoldering logs fanning into vigorous flames, the wall torches glowing brighter. Door hinges groan, brisk steps sound, and I keep my gaze fixed on the fire.

“What a surprise to find you brooding on the mantel,” announces Kian, crossing the floor at speed, his bouncing locks brighter than the flames. His hair is orange, and the wasp’s is dark red.

Like me, he wears a belted tunic over dark leather breeches, the rich shade of red clashing with his hair. My gold-embroidered tunic is of midnight blue and there are lethal, silver spikes pointing from my arm bracers and high collar. Out of the two of us, I look better.

In the deep larkspur blue of Kian’s eyes, trouble brews. With his hostile greeting delivered in a false jovial tone, he hopes to wind me into anger. Force me to lash out. Refusing to give him any satisfaction, I wipe my face of all expression. I don’t wish to hurt him. He’s my oldest friend. But his love is corrupt and toxic.

Saying nothing, I search his face for clues to what is coming next.

“You have returned in even fouler spirits than before you left.” He leans a casual elbow on the mantle beside me. “I cannot guess if that means you succeeded and found your fated queen or not, Ever.”

He knows very well I haven’t. If I had, the city would already be ablaze with celebrations.

“Once again, no girl was lying under the oak tree waiting for my noble notice,” I mock.

Lips not even quirking, he inclines his head, which tells me he didn’t catch my sarcasm. As usual, he is practically immune to it.

“And this is the first you’ve seen of me since I returned. Why do you judge my mood in a single glance?”

He nods at a mass of skeletal birch branches rattling against the council chambers’ high windows, the sky behind them as turbulent and black as the scowl I’m wearing.

“Does dallying with the human not please you?”

“What? I have not bedded any humans.” Now I know the game he plays, I guard my words more closely. “And as far as that particular one is concerned, my strongest desire is to watch her bedraggled form depart our city forever.” This is true, but perhaps not for the reason I imply.

“Oh? If it wasn’t a tryst, then why did you ride like the wind to meet her in the forest when you returned?”

Damn Kian and his spies.

“It was not. My aim was to punish her. She left her work and wandered into the woods without permission.”

“And did you deliver your punishment?”

The air crackles as I catch his gaze and hold it—but let silence burn between us.

“I thought as much.” He pushes away from the fire and swipes a shiny apple from a food platter, tossing and catching it over and over. “Early this eve, she was seen dining with the servants in the kitchen. Apparently, she was having a wonderful time, laughing with her many new friends. According to Lord Gavrin, she looked hale and happy. Your punishment must have been very mild indeed. Or did you chastise her in a more pleasurable way?”

Wood crumbles beneath my nails. “She is human, a plain one at that.”

“And?”

“And I hardly care what she does as long she does it far away from me,” I say between gritted teeth, immediately realizing it contradicts my reason for following her into the forest in the first place.

He gives me a long look, then strolls around picking up items for a quick inspection before discarding them and moving on to the next—a map, a writing quill, crystal geodes, cheese that someone else must eat.

“Whatever you say. If it is not the girl who sours your mood, then maybe when we drink together after this tedious meeting, you will explain why so many storms and tempests have plagued us since her arrival.”

I sigh. Kian will pile my chambers full of courtiers tonight, and I would rather sleep than entertain them.

“I’ve hardly been home since she arrived. Your thoughts are misguided.”

Combing long fingers through his hair, he says in a casual tone, “Well, then, it’s fortunate you are unimpressed with the girl because as rumor tells it, she calls you Never. Never would. Never will. Never shall she look upon you with favor.”

My laughter is a hollow sound. “You believe that hurts my feelings? You of all people should know I don’t have any.”

“I would never presume to understand the workings of your mind, old friend.” He throws me a light smile, then stops beside me, leaning close. “But if you do not desire the mortal brat, then I think I’ll take her for myself.”

Narrowed slits, my eyes cut to his. “What do you mean?”

“You know very well what I intend. She will spend tonight in my chambers. And I will make her smile and dance and moan until the sun rises.”

Images flash. The girl’s dirt-smudged face. Her ripped work tunic. The fragile skin beneath it. Her body so weak and human. I try and try but cannot push the pictures away.

Finally, I say, “She’s a prisoner here, Kian, and doesn’t like our kind. What you wish for would require force.”

“That matters not to me. In truth, I welcome a challenge.”

Stone crumbles as I slam him against the wall. I don’t remember losing control. Or moving. And yet here my fingers are, wrapped around his neck.

Though his tongue seems frozen, both rage and fear swirl in his irises, changing them from azure to purple.

“Touch the human and I’ll gladly remove every last scrap of air from your lungs and watch you writhe in agony.” Smiling, I squeeze his throat, a brief sample of the pain in store if he’s stupid enough to disobey me.

Breath ragged, his nostrils flare as dots of blood well below his throat where my bracer’s spikes prick.

My gaze spears his, and I send a chilling wave of air along his skin. He shudders like a newborn pup. “Heed my words, for I have never been more serious.” I push away and stalk to the table, then rest a hip casually against it.

He readjusts his garments and restores his haughty expression. “So, may I interpret that little outburst as a sign of your interest in the girl?”

My hand flicks toward him, and a wild wind raises his bright hair, tangling it into a birds’ nest.

“Who found this human, Kian?” My voice is low, barely a whisper. Deadly.

“Why none other than you, of course, my highest liege and master,” he says, a sneer upon his lips.

“And what do the customs of our land dictate when a person catches something interesting?”

Smoothing his hair, his fingers shake. “It immediately becomes theirs, Your Highness.”

“Well, then, I suggest you take my outburst as a sign not to meddle with what is mine.”

The doors groan open again, and Raff enters, the council at his heels. My mother’s consort, green-skinned Lord Stavros who wishes he were king. Purple-robed Lord Gavrin—our substitute-father figure. And the stern-faced Supreme Commander, Lord Ephron, looking severe as always in the heavy armor he probably wears to bed.

“Where is the queen?” I ask, taking my place at the Five Ways table. I stare at the map of the kingdom carved into its ancient wooden surface. We will not need it tonight.

Raff’s lips form a smile, but his eyes do not. “She has given her instructions to the esteemed Lord Stavros. The queen’s council are merely here to inform us of her wishes. Perhaps she’s taking a goat’s milk bath to polish her skin while awaiting her lover’s return.” His eyes are steely as he drops into a high-backed seat across from me. We form the head and foot of the high table—a king-in-waiting and his second-in-line.

Confident in his position as my mother’s favorite, Lord Stavros only laughs at the jibe. I see why she’s fond of him. Self-assured and good-humored—he is her opposite. A counterbalance to her wild outbursts and petty whims.

He says, “In three days, the Merits will be in our lands. Queen Varenus plans to welcome them with a feast before they continue on to the Emerald Sea.”

“And what of their interest in the human?” I ask. Of course, I already know the answer, but I wish to hear what she has told Stavros.

Beside me, Kian snorts.

Lord Stavros smiles. “You know your mother well enough. She wishes to taunt them with the girl.”

“Does she plan to strike a bargain and release her to them?” asks Kian, flinging me a smug smile.

Wishing to crush his head, I draw a long breath and hold it. With each day the poison progresses, and it becomes more difficult to control my vilest notions.

“For now, she wants the human to stay at our court.” Stavros pulls his waist-length plait over his shoulder, black eyes gleaming. “But it is certainly an option.”

My breath releases slowly.

He continues, “Groomed and decorated, the human will serve at the feast and be flaunted before their eyes. We shall see what unfolds.”

I know what will unfold, and it will not go well for the girl.

“I like the human,” says Raff. “She’s an entertaining diversion. I think we should keep her.”

Good. Raff has made the suggestion. Now I can demand she stay without raising the council’s suspicions too high. I can’t explain my motives for wanting to keep her when I don’t even understand them myself.

“My brother is right,” I say. “The girl should be hidden. The Merits will do anything to possess her and exhibiting her in plain sight will only bring trouble.”

Lord Ephron speaks. “So, she will be powerful leverage in our cause to hold back the Merits’ technology, an asset if you like.”

“This asset will start an outright war. Are you all fools?” The lords jerk backward as one, shocked by my outburst. My fury is legendary, but then so is my control over it in council matters. Tonight, it is tenuous at best.

“Perhaps our prince is correct,” says Kian with a sly glance in my direction. “I propose we throw her off the bridge to the fuaths in Terra River. Then we will not have her blood on our hands. With truth, we can inform all who ask that she has fallen to her death.”

“Enough,” I say, standing as thunder rolls over the turreted roof. “My journey today was long, and I’m tired of talking about this mortal who should be beneath our interest.” Should be but isn’t. “As the queen wishes, we’ll let the Merits tie their tongues in knots with their efforts to procure her. Let’s see what they’re prepared to offer for her.”

“Your Grace.” Metal clanking, Lord Ephron stands. “What of the mages? Since the girl’s arrival, their absence at court has been noticed. I worry what they are up to.”

I fix him with a cool and steady gaze. “Ether keeps to herself. But be assured, her interests lie in what benefits our kingdom. Aer alone has confirmed her attendance at Samhain.” Unfortunately for me. “And, as always, trouble follows in her wake, and we are powerless to control her.”

Grimacing, Ephron nods and takes his seat.

After glaring at each lord, including my brother, I depart with haste.

There. Done. I have secured the girl’s survival until at least the night of the Merit banquet. After that, surely it will be my decision alone as to when her life will become forfeit. I found her. She is mine.

I am the Black Blood heir. As compensation for enduring this blackest of curses, should I not be granted my every wish?

There are four things I want.

Rest.

Peace.

Obedience.

And an unkempt human girl to do with as I will.