Eve La Stella, Queen of the Fae, magicless and imprisoned in the Fomorian fortress after losing the Realm to the invaders, has nearly given up hope when salvation appears from an unlikely source. Now, freedom comes with a cost: to restore her people’s magic, she must abandon them and submit herself to the King of the Wild Hunt. Life with the Hunt would be good. Easy. But she loves her people too much to let them go, and the King proves time and again that he can’t be trusted.

Even without her magic, Eve isn’t powerless. Armed with her wits and a little bit of moonlight she strikes a bargain with an old enemy, reclaims a friend who was taken from her, and finds the key to restoring Fae magic, if only she could wake him. After the mistakes she’s made the Fae no longer want her. Reclaiming her magic, and her people, on her own terms means tricking the most powerful being in existence: the King of the Wild Hunt.

14 + due to adult situations

Excerpt:

Fae want to live. That truth, buried deep inside, is what keeps my feet flat on the floor instead of the open windowsill as I watch General Halasuwa’s procession move across the courtyard below. It would be so easy to tip too far forward and end this imprisonment once and for all.

‘Courtyard’ may be a stretch, but it’s the closest word I have to describe the area surrounding the fortress. Nothing grows here. My world is darkness and stone, as devoid of the warmth of life as the Fomorians are of compassion and mercy. A resounding thud echoes up as the first guards reach my tower and throw open the heavy wooden door. Must be time.

A deep breath steadies my nerves. He hasn’t killed you yet. What makes you think he’ll do it today? Truthfully, I’m only alive to stoke Halasuwa’s ego. The moment he feels like I no longer serve that purpose he won’t hesitate to reunite me with my slaughtered people.

The Realm ceased smoking long ago, yet the Fomorians still feast as though on the eve of their victory. My every hair is in place, that is, in a state of utter dishevelment, when the horn sounds outside my door. The same clothes I wore in that fateful battle slip and flap on my gaunt frame, still dirty, still bearing the blood of those who died protecting me. I’m not allowed to wash them, these symbols of my absolute defeat. 

I know my place. Under Halasuwa’s heel. My life hangs on this performance, and every performance stretching endlessly into the future. The more debased I appear, the happier the Fomorian leader is, and the closer my escape becomes.

“Your Majesty?” The question is a sneer as the guard opens my door without bothering to knock. I don’t warrant such a basic courtesy. The flickering torches in the otherwise dark hallway throw his ram’s horns into menacing shadows. 

“I am ready,” I answer with a steady voice. The guards close in as I enter their midst, as if I pose any kind of threat to them. Without my magic I’m as defenseless as I appear. Sixteen, skinny, weak. Alone. Through the hallway. Down the stairs. Nothing new to see, but I keep my eyes at the ready just in case. Halasuwa doesn’t summon me often, so when he does, I have to make full use of the opportunity. The dark, cold stone yields no secrets, and my guards are silent as always.

The guards lead me deep underground, although the fortress of Canowin Hollow already exists in the bowels of the earth. I am kept in a tower, but that tower is merely the highest point of the deepest cave I’ve ever seen. The weight of the rock above pushes against me, reminding my very being that I do not belong down here. I am Fae, and Fae belong beneath the sky, not buried under the ground.

Halasuwa’s banquet hall lies deeper still, and the effort to walk down hundreds of stairs does nothing to keep the chill from settling in my bones. By the time we reach the bottom I’m shivering, and I only keep my teeth from chattering through sheer force of will.

As I descend the final staircase a hoof the size of a dinner plate slides into my path, catching my foot and sending me tumbling headfirst down the remaining steps. I should have seen it coming. My guards snicker but don’t outright laugh, and no one offers to help me up. I say nothing, pushing myself upright and wincing as my badly healed broken ankle falters. I wipe the slime off my hands and wait.

When the hall doors open, the noise of revelry spills out, dinner already in full swing. More horns announce my arrival, and the guards prod me forward as a hush falls over the guests. I am led through the center of the hall, between rows of gawking strangers, until finally stopping before the elevated table at the far end.

Halasuwa notices the fresh grime but says nothing. His standing order says I am not to be harmed; however, there is a general understanding that a little bullying is okay. My guards melt away as Halasuwa stands, commanding every eye in the room. Even for a Fomorian, he’s massive, the stump of his arm where Danen took his hand only serving to make him look more formidable. Battle-hardened. Undefeatable.

“Honored guests!” Halasuwa bellows the words, even though silence has reigned in the hall since my grand entrance. No amount of dirt can hide my golden skin and silver hair, an unmistakable sign of my royalty. “May I present Her Majesty, Eve La Stella, Queen of the Fae!”

A roar follows this announcement. On cue, I drop to one knee and bow my head. “General.”

“Please, join me, Your Majesty.” Snickers race around the room. No one believes his use of my title is sincere, but I rise and ascend the dais anyway. We’ve each delivered our lines, and the satisfied look on Halasuwa’s face tells me my life, for tonight, is secure. I take my place as dinner resumes, a Fomorian-sized chair that swallows my frame and leaves my feet dangling slightly behind and to Halasuwa’s left. I’m not permitted to eat, so I don’t even look at the food. Instead, I sweep my eyes over the crowd, trying to see who Halasuwa is shmoozing tonight.

Riding high on his victory over the Realm, General Halasuwa was not content to merely return home and live out his days. No. Now that his vengeance is complete it is time for the Fomorians to once again claim their place in the workings of the world. I am his tool, his proof that he is everything the rumors claim him to be. And every time he shows off his new pet, he gains allies fearful of having his might turned on them next.

I don’t have names for many of the creatures I’ve seen in this hall, but I’m pretty sure I know who his guests are tonight. Goblins. They smell even worse than the Fomorians, and since they stand only hip-high to the warriors watching them mingle together is almost laughable. I don’t laugh. I keep a careful mask of misery plastered on my face, even as their beady eyes rove over me and their hairy fingers make rude gestures in my direction. The Fae have historically had little contact with goblins, as they have no magic and had nothing we desired. There’s no denying their interest in me, though. Their hungry gazes make me feel like a lamb paraded in front of a pride of lions.

A small band of goblins approaches the high table and snag Halasuwa’s attention. Their torsos are adorned with blood-red sashes glinting with silver pins, setting them apart from the ordinary rabble occupying the rest of the tables. The delegates, I assume. I can’t hear their words over the general ruckus, but their intention becomes clear when Halasuwa nods his head in my direction.

Wicked smiles cross their twisted faces as they approach my chair. I let my fear show, knowing any assertion of pride will reflect badly on Halasuwa.

The goblins mutter amongst themselves in their native tongue, rasps and growls that set my teeth on edge.

Then one of them touches me.

Lightly at first, running its fingers through my silver hair. It cackles, and the others join in, poking and prodding, picking at my skin and clothes.

Their touch makes my skin itch, like tiny insects are crawling all over me. I can’t help but squirm, and their picking becomes harsher, more aggressive. Then one of them licks me, leaving a trail of fire across my cheek, and I scream.

“Enough.” For the first time, I’m thankful to hear Halasuwa’s booming voice. The goblins back off, then grumpily slink away. Halasuwa doesn’t look at me, and I’m glad. What would happen if he saw the relief and gratitude in my eyes?

The goblins are still looking at me and muttering, so I search for somewhere else to look. Keep learning. There’s always something new for you to see, you just have to find it. My eyes land on another table, off to the side but not so far from Halasuwa as to be an insult to their rank.

A rowdy cluster of Fomorians occupies this table, deep in the throes of obvious drunkenness. It doesn’t appear to be a happy drunkenness, however. Scowls mar their faces, and more than one sends a disgusted look my way. In the center is a face I recognize, leaning in close and talking fast. His brown skin and budded horns stir a level of emotion in me I can’t afford to let anyone see. Caspian.

As if drawn by my gaze, his head abruptly swivels, eyes locking onto mine. The scar on his cheek, courtesy of Danen, lies too pale against his brown skin. His expression falters for a heartbeat before he gets swept up in the conversation again. I’ve lost track of the number of times he’s saved my life. And of the number of times he’s betrayed me.

His presence here tonight, the only Fae besides me among a sea of enemies, tells me everything I need to know about his loyalty. I tear my gaze away, riveting my eyes to the floor for the rest of the meal.

Still, even with my eyes down I’m not unaware of the precariousness of my situation. I can still feel their eyes on me. Caspian’s. The goblins’. Even Halasuwa’s. Watching every twitch of my face for a hint of anything more than total subservience. It’s a dangerous game I play. Yet, play it I must. My life depends on it. My people depend on it.