Ronan

Ronan

I slept in the Lakehouse because I needed space to think.

My good mood lasted till morning, and I spent the whole night dreaming of that snarling and writhing tomcat who banged like a goddess. I would have Ransto chase down her whereabouts so I could contact her again, but for now, I wanted to keep her private, all to myself, alone in my thoughts and memories.

It wasn’t until I weaved through the orange grove to take the moonway home that my mood soured. These were Seb’s trees, and this was supposed to be Seb’s moment, but he was dead, and it was my fault.

The mantle of guilt sat heavily on my shoulders as I jogged home to change into jeans and a T-shirt. I had promised to be there the night he died, but I was too busy with Gabrelle instead, sneaking around behind our friends’ backs, and time had gotten away from me.

I hadn’t turned up to the bar and hadn’t been there when those Unseelie bastards had ambushed him. I could never forgive myself for that.

I changed quickly, then headed out again. Another private moonway ran from my estate to Rosenia Forest. Having private moonways was one of the perks of royalty because we could summon—and afford—the finest spell Weavers of our times.

As the world blurred beside me while I jogged, my hands curled into fists, remembering that night I’d been rutting with Gabrelle instead of having my best friend’s back, and my heat was still high when I emerged near the glade.

In the clearing where classes were held, sunlight dappled the soft forest floor, and vines and flower garlands hung like decorations.

Gabrelle was already here, her soft pink hair contrasting dramatically with her dark brown skin. She wore a deep purple jumpsuit that touched her curves in all the right places. Usually, seeing my friends buoyed me for a few moments, but Gabrelle’s nod and the twinkle in her light pink eyes only pressed my guilt more heavily on my shoulders.

She sat with her long shapely legs crossed on a stone ledge that dripped with begonias and was, I knew, far more comfortable than it looked. She undressed me with her gaze. “You look recently pleasured,” she said, licking her lips. “But so sad. Whoever she was must have been a bore.”

My thoughts flashed back to that always-moving tomcat, writhing and snarling and getting me harder than ever before. “It’s none of your business,” I snapped.

Gabrelle crossed and uncrossed her legs. I knew she wasn’t trying to be sexy, it was just a hazard of her powers, a byproduct of her lineage, a trap of the trade. Firstly, she was the heir to House Allura, the house of beauty. Secondly, Gabrelle’s mother had Ascended to Lure and her father to Stealth, which meant both those traits ran strongly through her blood, even though she hadn’t yet Ascended to her full power.

Technically, fae could choose to Ascend into any power they desired. However, the Ascension was more likely to be successful—and more powerful—if you chose something that aligned with your natural abilities.

And Gabrelle’s natural Lure couldn’t be clearer. Even without having Ascended, she could entrap susceptible males and females and have them do anything she commanded.

Fortunately, I’d known her for decades, and long-term exposure had strengthened my defenses.

Gabrelle turned her head, exposing her elegant, flawless neck. “I have news that might interest you.”

I lounged against a thick hedge that flowed around my body to support me. “I doubt it.” I knew I was being surly but was in no mood for idle gossip.

Gabrelle’s thick lashes framed her pink irises perfectly as she blinked slowly. “The Floran Bracelet has been claimed.” I tensed, crushing twigs within my fists. “The princess will join us today.”

Every year, the heirs to the Verdan thrones competed in a series of trials to gain points for their House. The House with the most points would ultimately have the highest rank when it came to ruling.

As far as most other realms knew, Verda was a perfect oligarchy with five Houses ruling equally. But in practice, that didn’t work. Votes of three against two were all very well, but if the stronger fae were in the minority, they inevitably ended up declaring war at some stage.

History was full of examples from the pre-trial era, but eventually, the trial system was developed, and in the thousands of years since, the Court of Verda had been peaceful.

So these trials were important. So far, I was ranked highest, just as my parents were ranked highest among their peers. I intended to follow them into precedence.

These lessons were important for another reason too. Not only did they help us develop the skills needed for the competitive trials, but also for Gaia’s ultimate test.

Gaia, the earth goddess who created the five Seelie realms, balanced out Mortia, the father of death who created the Unseelie realm.

Gaia did not allow any monarch to rule if she deemed them unworthy. In Verda, Gaia did so via the ultimate test. We could not rule if we failed, even following our parents’ deaths.

The usurper to the Floran crown, this so-called princess who’d claimed the Floran Bracelet, would fail Gaia’s ultimate test. I would make damn sure of it. Her arrival marked the beginning of my mission to end her.

A crashing through the trees from the northeast told me Leif was coming. He was the least subtle fae I knew and as clumsy as a dog.

He barreled right up to me in his wolf form and sniffed my crotch, so I smashed his big hairy muzzle, hard.

He morphed into his fae form and rubbed his nose. “What the hell, dude?”

“Don’t sniff around my fucking dick,” I growled.

Leif tugged on a pair of sweatpants that Gabrelle tossed to him, then rubbed his nose again. “It’s a standard wolf greeting, you know that.”

I leaned back into my hedge chair. “And I’m not a wolf. You might have noticed.”

He stepped forward to rub my shoulder, but I smacked his hand away, and he whined. “It’s not my fault, dude. I thought you smelled of human, and I had to make sure.” He turned to Gabrelle. “And, for the record, I was right. His dick smells of human.”

In his wolf form, Leif’s nose was unbeatable. Most fae were skilled at picking up scents, but apparently, wolves could smell a trace of human on me even after I’d showered and soaped.

Gabrelle slid down from her perch, and Leif openly ogled her while she did. I was pretty sure the two of them had never screwed, but with her Lure heritage and him being the heir of fornication, they certainly buzzed with electricity.

“That explains how boring she was in the sack,” Gabrelle mused.

The sensation of that human wriggling on my lap burst through me, and if I was alone, I could come from just thinking about her. “Yeah, real boring,” I lied.

The smell of roasted garlic and freshly baked bread hit me, and Dion strode into the clearing, his hair and eyes pale brown this morning.

“Garlic bread for breakfast, dude?” Leif sniffed. “Tell me you brought some for me.”

Dion had Ascended years ago, and nobody was surprised when he chose Magirus. Like every other Magirus, Dion’s hair, eyes, and scent changed to match the last thing he’d eaten. Catching him after he’d eaten fish stew was torture.

“None for you, bud. But damn, it was so good.” Dion flopped onto a plump mattress made of jasmine.

Leif trotted over and sniffed Dion, then licked his arm happily, which Dion permitted. He let that dog get away with hell.

“The new princess is coming today,” Gabrelle said silkily, tossing her long pink hair and drawing Leif’s gaze.

I ripped a twig off my armchair. “Don’t call that bitch a princess. She might look fae, but she’ll never be fae. She was born and raised in the mortal realm, where she belongs.”

Leif settled onto the jasmine mattress beside Dion. “She won’t look fae, dude. She’s been in the mortal realm too long, so she’ll look human. It’ll be super weird to see one up close.”

Damn, he was right. Human technology suppressed fae magic, so she would look like an ordinary woman.

I sank further into my chair as a pounding began in my ears, remembering last night. Had I fucked this up?

More crashing came through the forest, clearly not a wolf bounding but some uncoordinated creature lumbering along a pathway, unable to walk with the silent elegance of a fae.

Gabrelle was already standing, leaning against the stone ledge, and Dion and Leif climbed to their feet too.

“It’s gotta be the Flora chick,” Leif said, nudging Dion, who licked his lips, and a soft smirk settled on Gabrelle’s beautiful face. All three of them were excited to meet the Floran wench so we could put in motion our plan to take her down.

With leaden limbs, I found my feet when the blundering human came into view.

Spiky blonde hair, startling blue eyes, short, with lean muscle.

My writhing, snarling tomcat. The Princess of House Flora.

Man, I was in trouble.