Fae's Destruction Read online

  Fae’s Destruction © 2020 M. Lynn and Melissa A. Craven

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Edited by Cindy Ray Hale

  Proofread by Caitlin Haines

  Cover by Maria Spada

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Lochlan

  2. Brea

  3. Lochlan

  4. Brea

  5. Brea

  6. Lochlan

  7. Brea

  8. Lochlan

  9. Brea

  10. Brea

  11. Lochlan

  12. Brea

  13. Brea

  14. Lochlan

  15. Brea

  16. Brea

  17. Lochlan

  18. Brea

  19. Brea

  20. Brea

  21. Lochlan

  22. Brea

  23. Brea

  24. Brea

  25. Lochlan

  Epilogue

  Want More?

  About Melissa

  Also by Melissa

  About M. Lynn

  Also by M. Lynn

  Four our sisters

  Angela

  Robin and Mackenzie

  We’d face an evil queen for you

  Prologue

  Myles

  “Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?” Myles stared up at the arched entrance to the Eldurian palace that opened into a courtyard of fountains and tiered gardens. After weeks of traveling through swamps and deserts, it was a welcome sight.

  Neeve shifted atop her horse. “I do not trust beautiful things.” On their journey, she’d gained color in her skin, pale from months kept in the Fargelsi dungeons with only brief trips above ground.

  Myles watched her carefully for any sign of joy or happiness that they were free. Being a prisoner was no picnic for him, but that was in the past now, and he was about to be reunited with his best friend in the entire world.

  A girl who was apparently a fae princess.

  “Neeve.” He shook his head. “If you let them take the beauty from your world, they win.”

  Neeve’s frail body hunched forward, and she no longer looked like the tall, strong girl he’d met when he first became a prisoner. Instead, she seemed… lost.

  She heaved a sigh and nudged her horse forward. “What was the cost of our freedom, Myles? Regan of Fargelsi does nothing she doesn’t wish to do. You and I… we are worth nothing in this fight, and yet, I can’t help feeling everything has been given up for us.”

  Myles glanced to Finn, their escort from Fargelsi. He’d barely spoken on the journey except to tell him the only reason he was leaving the Fargelsian border was for Brea.

  It seemed the outcast he’d known before had changed quite a bit if she instilled loyalty in such men. He smiled at the thought, half expecting Brea to come sprinting from the palace doors to throw her arms around him.

  He didn’t know how the two of them had arrived in this strange world. One moment, he was defending his best friend from the bullies at school, and the next, he was waking up from a coma to find a strange man with pointed ears hovering over him.

  Queen Regan told him Brea had tried to kill him, but he didn’t believe that for a second.

  Finn slid down from his horse as a servant rushed forward. “Take our horses up to the stables. Tell Master Arturo I will require a fresh mount in a few hours’ time.” He handed off the reins before turning to help Neeve down.

  The two of them walked toward the entrance where a line of guards stood against the wall.

  “Oh sure.” Myles grimaced. “I’ll be fine on my own.” Riding horses was nothing new to him, but he’d never regained his strength from the captivity. The journey only made it worse. He tried to dismount as he’d done a million times before at his farm, but his legs wobbled when he landed, and he pitched forward, falling to his hands and knees.

  A tired sigh rushed out of him. “Anyone have a stretcher?” They were the last words he remembered before his head hit the stone.

  Voices entered Myles’ peaceful slumber.

  “These two have been through a lot.”

  “Finn didn’t tell them.”

  “What do we do?”

  Myles groaned as his eyes slid open, and he took in the people surrounding him. “Where am I?”

  “The healer’s rooms.” A broad woman with the brightest red hair smiled at him. “You have been through much trauma and a long journey. Go back to sleep, young man.”

  He shook his head and tried to sit up.

  The woman put a hand on his shoulder. “Do not tax yourself.”

  Rows of identical cots lined both walls, most unoccupied. A few beds over, Neeve slept.

  “Where’s Finn?” The fae man hadn’t said much, but Myles had sensed it was out of sadness more than stubbornness.

  “He rested for a few hours before leaving again for the border.”

  Myles’ brows drew together. “Why?”

  “Because both my daughters are prisoners there.” The woman’s lips turned down.

  This time, Myles managed to sit up, his eyes wide. “You’re Alona’s mom.”

  She nodded. “I am queen-consort Tierney Cahill. We’ve all been worried about you, Myles.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “Excuse me.” She turned away, wiping her face. “Rowena, let me know when he is capable of visiting my wife.” With those final words, she rushed away, leaving three men and one woman behind.

  “Can I get you anything, sir?” The woman asked.

  “Who are you?”

  “Rowena. I was—am—lady’s maid to Alona and Brea.”

  “Brea.” He straightened. “Where is she? Has she been by to see me?” After everything that happened, he just needed to hold her, to see for himself that she was okay.

  Rowena shook her head, a tear coursing down her face. “I must… I’ll bring you something to eat.” She followed in the tracks of the queen-consort.

  Something didn’t feel right. This entire place was… wrong. Without Brea, everything was wrong.

  One of the men bent to look into Myles’ eyes as if examining him. He must have been a healer. He straightened and nodded. “Exhaustion. Nothing a little sleep and food won’t cure. You must regain your strength.”

  Myles didn’t know why so many people were concerned about him. He was a stranger here, not someone who mattered. He wasn’t a lost princess like Brea. He almost snorted at the idea. What would the Robinsons say to that?

  “I’m Master Arturo.” The bearded man to his left put a hand to his chest and cleared his throat. “I am glad you are alive. For Brea.” His lips quivered, and he looked to the other man. “This is Captain Donovan. We care about your friend, Myles, and she cares a great deal for you. If you need anything, ask us.”

  Donovan… He must have been Finn’s father. “Thank you.”

  The two men nodded and left. Myles breathed out a giant sigh of relief. He didn’t realize Neeve had woken until she sp
oke.

  “They love Brea here, don’t they?”

  Myles nodded. He was beyond happy for his friend. He’d always had his parents—who he was trying not to think about—but she’d only had him. Now, she found a world that embraced her, loved her. “I need to see her.”

  Neeve shook her head. “You need to rest. She will come.”

  “I can’t wait.” He slid from the bed, wincing as his bare feet hit the cold stone floor. Seeing Brea here would make everything real, it would dislodge the rock sitting on his heart making him crazy with worry. Because the girl he knew would have been the first person to greet him when he arrived.

  So, why hadn’t she come?

  The healer was nowhere to be found as he crept from the room into a stone hallway.

  Neeve nudged him out of the way as she stepped into the hall.

  Myles raised a brow. “I thought you wanted to wait.”

  “We’re in this together, human. Through our captivity, the journey into Eldur, and now a foreign palace where we could end up lost in one of these hallways, it’s the two of us.”

  He paused, turning to her with a smile. “That is the nicest thing a fae has ever said to me.”

  “Most fae have only abducted and imprisoned you, so I’m not surprised.”

  “Was that a joke?” Over the months he’d known Neeve, she’d never even laughed at his jokes, let alone cracked one of her own.

  “No.” She started down the hall, crossing to where it opened into a courtyard with a circular fountain.

  “They sure like their fountains here, don’t they?”

  Neeve shrugged. “Eldur is a hot kingdom, human. They enjoy water.”

  “Stop calling me that.”

  “What?”

  “Human.” He crossed his arms. “It’s mean.”

  “But it is what you are.” She cocked her head, considering his request.

  “Well, yes, but you say it with such… derision.”

  “Hu—Myles.” She peered down a hall before entering it. “Humans are lesser beings than fae. That is fact. Any derision in my words is the correct way to address inferiority.”

  Myles released a frustrated breath and turned the opposite way of Neeve. “I’ll find Brea on my own.”

  As soon as he’d separated from her, a line of guards stopped him. “Why are you wandering the palace?” one of them asked.

  Myles looked back the way he’d come, but he’d made so many turns there was no way he could backtrack to the healer’s rooms on his own. “I’m looking for the princess.”

  Another guard rushed past them, shouting, “There has been news from Iskalt.”

  “Sorry, he looked like he knows where he’s going, so I’ll follow him.” Myles ducked away from the guards and followed the other one as fast as his weak legs could take him.

  The guard rushed through two ornate double doors that stood open with a guard on each side.

  Myles entered and stood at the back.

  “Your Majesty.” The guard kneeled before a woman who sat on an ornate golden throne, her hands folded in her lap. “We have word from Iskalt.”

  The queen gestured to him. “Rise, sir. Tell us what has happened.”

  He got to his feet. “There was a battle, your Majesty. Many people died, and the day was almost lost when Lochlan O’Shea suffered an injury.”

  It was like the entire room held their collective breath. Myles didn’t know the importance of these words, but he could feel the monumental moment.

  “Go on.” The queen leaned forward, her stoic mask slipping to reveal the fear underneath. “Is Lochlan dead?”

  The guard shook his head. “No, your Majesty. He is now king of Iskalt.”

  No one spoke for a long moment as silence hung heavy over the room.

  “King,” the queen whispered, her voice growing louder. “Lochlan has taken the Iskalt throne?” Hope replaced the fear in her eyes.

  The guard nodded. “Yes, your Majesty. Callum O’Shea is now his prisoner, and the people of Iskalt rejoice.”

  She sat back against her throne, her entire body relaxing. “We can get them back.”

  Myles got the impression those words were only meant for her.

  She straightened. “This is a great day. Our ally has regained the throne that was rightfully his. With the might of Eldur and Iskalt together, we can defeat Fargelsi and recover our princesses.”

  Princesses. Myles blood went cold. She meant more than one. His jaw tensed as he walked forward, each step taking him to a truth that would crush him.

  Neeve appeared at his side, having found the throne room on her own.

  Her eyes told him she too understood. Her hand slipped into his. Myles knew fantasy customs from his books. He needed to kneel or at least bow, but at that moment, nothing mattered except the truth.

  At the healer’s, why were there tears in the eyes of the people who’d cared about Brea?

  Why hadn’t she already come to him?

  How did they secure his release?

  His long stride took him to the first step leading up to the throne. Someone leaned over to whisper to the queen, and her eyes widened, probably realizing who he was.

  He met her gaze. He’d been Brea’s family before any of these people appeared, before her mother decided she was worth coming for.

  Queen Regan made sure he knew all about how Faolan of Eldur abandoned Brea as a baby in the human realm, and Myles hated her for it.

  When he spoke, he kept his voice low. “Where is she?”

  A guard stepped forward. “Bow to your queen.”

  “She’s not my queen.” He scowled. “I am human, and we bow to no one.” His jaw clenched. “Brea is the most important person in my life. Tell me where she is.”

  A single tear tracked down her cheek, and for the first time, Myles noticed how haggard she looked, like she hadn’t slept in weeks. “My girls… She’s taken both of them.”

  “Who?” But Myles already knew the answer.

  “Regan offered a trade. I couldn’t stop her.”

  “No.” Myles stumbled back, his hand slipping out of Neeve’s. She reached for him again, but he didn’t want comfort.

  He wanted Brea.

  And she’d given herself to save him.

  All the time spent sitting under their tree on her farm or walking the halls at school flashed through his mind.

  Someone was speaking, but he barely registered their words as they spoke of traveling to Iskalt for a treaty signing. Only Myles and the queen seemed to be stuck in this sequence of events where Brea left them. Their gazes connected.

  “How could you let her do it?” he asked, cutting off the man who was speaking.

  The queen shook her head. “Brea has a mind of her own. Now, it is up to us to save her this time.”

  And he would. Because Brea Robinson was his person, his best friend, and she was worth fighting for.

  Lochlan

  Two Months Later

  A treaty was a promise, a vow, binding in magic. Those who broke the ancient agreements would see themselves lose something they held dear.

  Power.

  Lochlan had seen it before. His parents were good rulers, faithful rulers, but they’d also been tied to Fargelsi in a treaty. When Brandon O’Rourke ruled the eternally beautiful kingdom, it worked. Fargelsi, Iskalt, and Eldur lived in harmony with queens and kings who didn’t only respect each other, they were friends. There was love in the fae realm back then, back before everything fell apart.

  Lochlan stood on a stone balcony with one hand on the sculpted half wall surrounding it. From his vantage point, he could look out across the fields of Iskalt, untamed and wild, frozen.

  He glanced behind him at the tall double wooden doors that led back into the bedroom once occupied by his parents.

  If they hadn’t broken faith with Fargelsi, would they be there still?

  His hand shook, and he curled his fingers into a fist to keep the freezing temperatures from making him we
ak.

  After Regan came to power on the death of her brother, Lochlan’s parents and Faolan broke the treaty by taking the only Fargelsian heir and hiding her in the human realm.

  And his parents died on the journey, cut down by Fargelsian soldiers who shouldn’t have been able to find them.

  But the magic of a fae treaty was absolute.

  There was a cost to being unfaithful to the words.

  “Your Majesty.” A young page boy opened the balcony door.

  Lochlan turned, eyeing the kid who’d called him Majesty. It had been over two months since he took the crown from his uncle’s head, yet the title was foreign to him. It belonged to his father, not the boy left behind, the one who hadn’t even been raised within these borders.

  Ice raced through his veins, but he didn’t pull his cloak in tighter. After living in the kingdom of fire and heat, he wasn’t used to the snow and ice. But he was born of Iskalt, so the ice belonged to him. He let himself feel it, revel in it.

  He was home.

  “Speak, boy.”

  The page flinched at his harsh tone, but Lochlan didn’t have the patience to worry about every palace worker’s reaction to him. “S-sire, the Eldurian delegation has arrived.”

  Faolan. He hated how he longed to see the Eldurian queen, how he felt she’d put more right in Iskalt than he could hope to. He’d seen the woman lose two daughters and hold her head high. Nothing could defeat her, and Iskalt needed a calming presence like that.

  “I’m sure they want to rest after the long journey.” He entered his rooms, and the page followed. “Tell Iain to make sure they have everything they require. Rooms have been prepared for them.” He reached the door and opened it, gesturing the page through. “It is late. I will meet with the delegation over breakfast in the morning.”