Fae's Defiance (Queens of the Fae Book 2) Read online

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. Brea

  2. Brea

  3. Brea

  4. Brea

  5. Lochlan

  6. Brea

  7. Brea

  8. Brea

  9. Brea

  10. Brea

  11. Brea

  12. Lochlan

  13. Lochlan

  14. Brea

  15. Lochlan

  16. Brea

  17. Brea

  18. Brea

  19. Brea

  20. Lochlan

  21. Brea

  22. Brea

  23. Lochlan

  24. Brea

  25. Lochlan

  26. Brea

  Epilogue

  Fae’s Destruction: Chapter One

  Fae’s Destruction: Chapter Two

  Want More?

  About Melissa A. Craven

  Also by Melissa A. Craven

  About M. Lynn

  Also by M. Lynn

  Fae’s Defiance © 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

  For our families, who make all the insanity

  of this job so much easier.

  Prologue

  Alona

  Alona Cahill trudged along the river’s edge, eager to leave her prison cell behind for a brief taste of fresh air. The chains around her ankles chaffed, but they were better than the bars of her cage. After surviving the last weeks in the dungeons of Queen Regan’s palace, she looked forward to this part of her routine.

  Every week, the prisoners were escorted from the dungeon to get some fresh air and exercise in the fields beside the river. It was the only time she was able to wash the filth and grime from her body. And the only time she had to speak privately with Neeve, her fellow prisoner and co-conspirator.

  “How is it coming with the chains?” Alona asked her friend.

  “It’s slow work. My magic is nearly useless, but every day the links grow weaker. I’ll be able to start working on yours soon.” They had little hope of escape, but that didn’t mean either woman was ready to give up trying.

  Alona was born without magic and therefore no help in terms of the power, but she had other skills. Since she was thrown into her cell, she’d worked tirelessly developing relationships with each of the guards. She knew which ones were susceptible to her charms and which ones weren’t worth the effort. She knew their shifts, when they ate, when they slept, and when they weren’t paying attention.

  A few were a lost cause while others had a soft spot for the helpless little princess. They sometimes brought her extra food or water, which she shared with Neeve in the cell beside hers. In time, she hoped she could count on one of them looking the other way when she and Neeve made their escape.

  The girls sat soaking their feet in the river, talking softly of their plans, using the rush of the water to conceal their voices.

  “You’re too obvious.” A fair-haired man in chains sat down beside them, eying Neeve curiously. “You may as well shout your plans across the field.” He eased his blistered feet into the water, breathing a sigh of relief.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Alona said sweetly.

  “If you’ve found yourselves imprisoned in the lowest, darkest corners of the dungeons, it means one thing. You’ve angered the queen, and she will not soon forget it.”

  Neeve looked away, and Alona couldn’t help feel sorry for her—well, she felt sorry for all of them. Everyone in the dungeons had heard of the girl executed for helping someone escape the palace. Moira, her name was. Neeve had barely been able to speak of her except to whisper her name in her sleep. Alona didn’t know how, but they’d known each other.

  She shifted her attention to the man before them. His eyes spoke of immense grief, but his calm façade hid it well. “You’ve been here a long time, haven’t you?”

  “Longer than you’ve been alive, Princess.”

  “You know who I am?”

  “I know exactly who you are, Alona Cahill, daughter of the Eldur queens.”

  “If you know my mothers, then you must know I won’t give up until I find a way out of this prison.”

  “If there was a way out, I would have found it long ago.”

  “Who are you, sir?” Neeve asked. Even as a prisoner she couldn’t seem to drop the formality a life in service had instilled in her.

  “Brandon O’Rourke.” He held his hand out to her.

  “You’re the queen’s brother?” Neeve’s eyes widened with shock as she took his offered hand. “The rightful king of Fargelsi?”

  “Please, call me Brandon.” He held onto Neeve’s hand longer than most handshakes lasted before releasing it quickly.

  “You’re supposed to be dead,” Alona whispered.

  Brandon’s shoulder slumped as he swirled his aching feet in the soft mud of the riverbed. “I may as well be.”

  “Time to go, you three,” the queen’s guard called.

  Alona groaned as she got to her feet, dreading the return to her cramped cell.

  “Be more careful, ladies. The queen has eyes and ears everywhere.”

  Alona and Neeve made their way along the river’s edge and back into the tunnels that led behind the falls and into the bowels of the palace dungeons.

  “Get in your cages, and be quick about it,” the guard called, shoving prisoners along the well-worn path.

  Alona stepped inside her cell, noting the fresh layer of hay that would make her bed for the next week or more. Hers was a bit thicker than the others. Smiling at the guard, she sank to her knees, pulling her tattered blanket around her shoulders. The warmth of the afternoon outside left her quickly as the chill of the dungeon seeped into her bones.

  “What’s happening?” A frantic voice bounced off the stone walls. Another new prisoner trying to resist what was happening to him. “This is a mistake. I’m a nobody.” The guards shoved the boy through the gates where he fell, sprawled across the floor in a tangle of long limbs and strange clothes.

  “Seriously? Dude, that wasn’t necessary.” The boy stood up, glancing around the room in the dim torchlight. “I definitely didn’t do anything to deserve this. Where am I?”

  “Shut up, human.” The guard guided the boy to the empty cell beside Alona’s.

  “Human?” Neeve murmured, clutching the bars of her cell. “He talks like Brea.”

  “Brea?” The boy’s eyes snapped to Neeve’s.

  “Where is she? Is she here? Brea!” The boy shouted, earning a blow to his head from the guard’s club.

  “Du-ude.” He rubbed the lump on his head. “We need to get you some anger management classes. Not cool, bro, not cool.”

  “Get inside and shut up.” The guard opened the
cell door.

  “I don’t think so.” He shook his head, taking a step back. “I’m going to need a bigger cell. I have an issue with tight spaces.”

  The guard shoved him inside and slammed the door closed.

  “What’s his problem?” The boy rubbed the top of his head, leaning back against the cold stone wall.

  “Quiet. You’ll only make it worse on yourself,” Neeve whispered. “How do you know Brea?”

  Alona leaned closer, wanting, needing his answer.

  “How do you know Brea?” He turned his wide eyes on Neeve.

  “I served her.”

  The boy stared at her. “Served her? Is she here?”

  Neeve’s grin was grim. “Not anymore. She escaped.”

  “Who are you?” Alona asked.

  “Myles Merrick, best friend of Brea Robinson who I’m guessing is a lot more important in this world than the one we came from.”

  1

  Brea

  Why did everyone in this fracking fae world lie?

  Brea still couldn’t believe the fantasy life she’d fallen into. Okay, more like been dragged into kicking and screaming. She shook her head to rid it of thoughts that would inevitably lead back to the biggest liar of them all. The man who’d claimed she was the subject of a prophecy. Prophecy-schmophesy. It didn’t exist.

  Her hands tightened around the steaming cup on the table in front of her as she focused on this moment’s lie. “And what do you call it?” She looked to the bear of a man sweeping the floor with an ancient bristly broom that looked like it belonged in a bedraggled Cinderella’s hands instead of this giant. Did giants exist in Eldur? Maybe he was a half giant—like Hagrid.

  “What?” She hadn’t heard the answer he gave her.

  “Girl.” The man she’d come to know as Xander over the last few weeks leaned the broom against the stone wall and rounded the small wooden tables separating them. He folded himself into a chair that was entirely too small for him. “I wouldn’t begin to guess what a girl like you was doing spending every day out here in the city without an escort.”

  “A girl like me?” She grimaced. “What does that mean?”

  “A richie.” Adamina singsonged as she bounced from the kitchen at the back of the small tavern. At this early hour, Brea was their only patron.

  “Hey, Mina.” Brea gave her a little wave.

  Mina set a bowl of sugared oats in front of Brea and another before her father.

  Brea took a bite, savoring the simple fare that was a world away from the more robust foods of the palace. “How do you know I’m a…”

  “Richie?” Mina crossed her arms over her petite frame. She looked nothing like her larger father. Brea had learned weeks ago that it was just the two of them. Mina’s mother died in childbirth. “It’s the clothes. You won’t find cloth as fine as yours here in the city except on the backs of nobles. Tell us, Brea, which family do you belong to? Is it the Wilsons? They’ve always been so secretive, though Viscount Wilson gets pretty chatty in here over his cups.”

  Brea shook her head.

  Mina’s eyes lit up, and she flicked them to the cup in front of Brea. “Oh, it’s the Robinsons, isn’t it?”

  Brea almost spat oats across the table. How did they know?

  Mina kept talking. “The Robinson clan is the wealthiest in the city.”

  Oh. Brea released a breath. There was a clan of that name in the fae world.

  “That’s why you enjoy Eldur beans so much. They control the Eldur bean trade.”

  “Eldur beans?” Brea stared down into the dark molten heaven in her cup. The lie she’d forgotten everyone seemed to be in on. “I was told there wasn’t such a thing as coffee.”

  “I don’t know what coffee is, but even as a Robinson clan member, you wouldn’t drink Eldur bean brew.” She leaned in, dropping her voice. “It’s a commoner’s drink.” Her nose wrinkled. “But if you ask me, it’s much better than the tea all you richies drink.”

  “Adamina,” Xander chastised. “That is enough. I don’t smell the day’s bread baking in the kitchen yet.”

  She held her hands in front of her chest. “I know. I know.” She shot Brea a wink. “We won’t tell your brothers of your taste for Eldur brew when they come in seeking ale this evening.” She bounced away, her bright red hair flowing out behind her.

  Xander scrubbed a hand across his face and leaned back in his chair. Now that Mina pointed it out, Brea could see the differences in how these people dressed. Instead of the colorful silks and soft linens used for clothing at the palace, they adorned themselves in worn woolen tunics with no hint of color.

  “Please forgive Mina for her intrusiveness.”

  Brea shrugged. “I’d be curious about me too.” She drained the rest of her Eldur brew. “Am I really not supposed to be drinking this stuff?”

  Xander eyed her, his gaze shrewd. “If you were really of the Robinson clan, you’d know the expectations of society. Brea, you are not much older than my own daughter, and I like you.”

  “Um… thanks?”

  “But you are here every morning by yourself. Women of an obvious higher station are targets in this part of the city and must be careful.”

  Brea tried to see the city as he did. In truth, she loved traversing the streets and wandering through markets full of life. It took her mind from the fact that Lochlan and Finn had been gone for three weeks without so much as a word.

  Xander sighed. “Do you not have people worried about you?”

  She thought of the woman she’d recently learned was her mother, but Queen Faolan had no time for her when the real people she cared about were gone.

  Queen Tierney tried, but there was only so much kindness a person could take before they broke. Well, if that person was her.

  “Do you want the truth, Xander?”

  He nodded.

  “Okay.” She sucked in a breath, preparing herself. “I was a prisoner in Fargelsi for weeks. The queen wouldn’t let me leave, forcing me to escape through the swampy Vatlands where I came face to face with creatures I couldn’t even begin to describe. Finally, I reached Captain O’Shea’s camp and saved them all from a terrible fate.” A little fib never hurt anyone. “I had to fend off enemies from Iskalt and protect the soldiers, eventually taking a sword to the shoulder. It hurt, but not as much as letting the Captain suffer.” She released a fake sob.

  Xander stared at her, his mouth dropping open as she continued to sniffle.

  “I knew it!” Mina’s squeal came from the kitchen doorway. “We all heard about the girl who escaped Fargelsi, and then you turn up, a stranger in our city.”

  “But you thought I was a Robinson.”

  She laughed, the sound holding a musical quality. “I’ve known the Robinsons since I was a child. They are frequent visitors to the tavern. You don’t carry their ghastly looks.” She giggled behind her hand. “I just wanted to pull the truth out of you.”

  Xander looked from Brea to Mina. “I didn’t hear of an escaped prisoner.”

  “That’s because you never leave this box of a tavern, papa.” She plunked herself down across from Brea. “Did you really save Lochlan?” She sighed. “Have you seen his eyes when his magic rises? They’re like an icy spear straight to my heart.”

  Xander scowled. “Mina, that is the queen’s man.”

  Ignoring Xander, Brea leaned across the table toward Mina. “Did you know he reads?”

  Mina fanned her face. “Oh my.”

  Brea laughed at the younger girl, enjoying the lightness of the moment. Usually when she thought of Lochlan, it was with a mixture of annoyance and worry. It felt good to chat with Mina as if she were just a friend. Maybe she could be.

  Xander pushed his chair back and stood. “Guess I’m making the bread,” he grumbled.

  Mina ignored him. “So, you live at the palace?”

  “Only because they don’t know what to do with me.” Half-truths. That wasn’t the reason she was there, but it didn’t change
how little she fit in those gilded halls with people who rarely smiled.

  At least when Griff was lying to her, he made her feel like she belonged.

  After telling Mina all about what the palace was truly like, Brea looked up to find patrons walking through the front door looking for their lunch.

  “Crap, I’ve been here all morning.” She jumped to her feet.

  Mina stood. “Papa is going to be angry with me, but I do hope we see you tomorrow, Brea.”

  Brea nodded. In truth, she couldn’t wait. The city and this tavern kept her heart beating when it wanted to freeze in her chest. With a wave goodbye, Brea stepped out onto the busy street. Sandstone buildings rose up before her, each more boring than the next. It wasn’t the mundane architecture of the lower city that breathed life into everything around her, it was the people.

  A cart rumbled past, and she jumped out of the way before following the crowd to the market square where people sold their wares. Everything from fresh fruit to home-spun clothing and ceramic dishes.

  A butcher slammed a slab of meat onto a table near her, making her jump and clutch her chest. She watched him hack away at it with a cleaver before moving on. One booth caught her eyes. A handmade sign read Eldur beans. She wondered if she could get someone at the palace to make some Eldur brew from them.

  Fishing a few gold coins Tierney gave her from her pocket, she approached the vender.

  A young man, probably only a few years older than her met her gaze, sliding it down to take in her clothing. “You’re the one who escaped Fargelsi.”