Chapter 1

Earth was invaded twenty-eight days ago. I think it is most unfair that I still have to go to work. And judging by the eerie emptiness of London's streets, most people's employers agree with me. But not mine, no, never mine. My shitty bosses have insisted we all come in.

As if anyone is going to be thinking about getting their car insurance renewal quotes at a time like this.

I sigh heavily and pull the strap of my messenger bag higher up my shoulder, and pick up the pace of my walking. Since I have to go to work, as ludicrous as that is, there is no point in being late.

I'm almost missing the early days of the invasion when everyone cowered at home with their eyes fixed on their phone screens for the constant news reporting. I didn't leave my blanket fort for days.

But I guess it is now clear that the aliens are not going to massacre everyone. They are not even going to change much. They literally said in a speech outside the White House, ‘Carry on, as you were.'

Sucks for presidents, prime ministers and kings. But for us ordinary people, they've said nothing much is going to change. Of course, that's if the invaders do as they say.

I shiver and pull my coat tighter, even though it's not the grey British weather that is chilling my blood. It's everything else. It's being back in interesting and unprecedented times. I thought the pandemic was going to be it for my lifetime. But nope. More shit. More drama. Fuck my life.

I turn the last corner of my commute and now I can see the soulless square glass office block of my workplace. A strange warmth floods me. Damn it. Don't tell me that the sight of this shithole is comforting. I'm not that guy. I work to live, not live to work. Car Insurance Call Handler is not part of my identity.

Unlike Steve. Who is now waving at me from just outside the revolving doors.

More warmth flows through me and I feel tension leave my shoulders. I bite back my groan of dismay. I cannot be happy to see this idiot. It would take more than an alien invasion to make me like Mr corporate ass-licker.

"Hi Steve!" I say with false cheer.

He grins back at me. "Have you heard the news?"

I feel my eyebrows rise. What kind of a question is that? I, like everyone else in the world, have heard an awful lot of news in the past twenty-eight days. Nothing but news. Sometimes for over twenty-four hours straight.

"The fey have deposed all CEOs of all big companies! We have a fey boss now!"

Well, that can't be good. Great. Just great. I can feel a panic attack coming on.

Okay, take a deep breath. When was the last time I saw the CEO? Never. And there is no reason for that to change. Mighty CEOs of multinational companies do not talk to lowly call handlers. It's fine.

"Wow," I say to Steve, because honestly, what else is there to say?

We go through the revolving doors and head towards the lifts. Mike, the security guy, is at his desk and he gives us his usual nod of greeting. And I'm fine with that making me happy.

"Maybe we will finally get that raise!" says Steve as he bumps my shoulder.

My eyes roll and I let out a weak chuckle. God. Four weeks alone, and I've forgotten how much hard work socialising is. It's so hard not to scream at Steve in his perfectly ironed pale blue shirt. He has to have seen the footage of the fey. Eerily beautiful. Haughty. Cold. Otherworldly. They move with predatory grace and have cruelty in their cat-slitted eyes.

I really don't think a pay rise is on the agenda. We will be lucky if they don't make us work for free, dress in rags and eat slops.

But they said, ‘carry on.' And so here we are.

The lift spits us out onto the sixth floor. Familiar sights, scents and sounds wash over me. Plastic plants. Strip lights. Acres of grey carpet. Shirley's tuna sandwich. Stale coffee and broken dreams.

It is as if I never left. Twenty-eight days and the world has changed, but this shit hole remains the same. It is depressingly comforting.

It's a lot less busy than usual. It seems half the team have more backbone than me, and have refused to come in.

My eyes flick to the control board. No calls waiting. First time I've ever seen the board like that. Management really are dickheads to make us come in.

Oh well, with half the team being rebellious, at least my favourite desk by the window is free. I hurry over to it before Steve decides to nab it. I dump my bag on the swivel chair and try not to groan as Steve makes himself at home at the desk next to me. It's fine. It is going to be a quiet shift. Talking to Steve is going to be better than talking to no one.

I get settled, pop my headset on and login at the exact time my shift starts. Yes! Martin will be so pissed. He hates that, but there is nothing he can technically do about it. Besides, golden boy Steve has only just signed in too. He must be more rattled by current events than he is letting on.

"Did you hear they have made Buckingham Palace their British headquarters?" says Steve.

"Did they?"

Everyone knows that, but I can give Steve the pleasure of thinking he is informing me. He did actually clue me in on the whole CEO thing, so he is not entirely useless.

He grins at me and launches into an hour-long lecture about everything I already know about the fey. It is going to be a long day. But at least Steve is not expecting me to make any contribution to the conversation. I can just zone out and wish the hours away.

He waffles about how insanely powerful the fey's magic is, and the rumours about all the things the military tried, but how nothing worked. He talks about how maybe the fey aren't that bad, since it is clear they could probably click their fingers and turn us all into dust, but they haven't. That comment makes me feel sick. Just because they haven't yet, doesn't mean they won't.

A commotion at the entrance to the stairs catches my attention. A crowd of people are walking in. The three people in the middle are very tall with long, pale hair. The man in the middle has antlers.

Antlers. Actual, real antlers. I blink, but they are still there. I can feel my heart beating in my throat. My stomach is doing cartwheels. All my muscles have gone weak.

Fey. There are actual, real life fey in the office. Beings who claim to be from another dimension, a different realm. Beings that claim they used to walk amongst us and that is where all our stories of fairies come from. They say they have merely returned. I say they are invaders. Alien invaders.

And alien invader overlords striding right towards me is not good, not good at all. I can't even jump out of the window. The glass is too thick and we are six floors up. All I can do is sit here and try not to wet myself.

Hopefully, one of these terrifying creatures is the new big boss, and he is merely deigning to meet all the staff on his first day, or some shit like that. Please let it be some shit like that.

As they stride closer, I get a good view of their clothes. The style is like something out of my favourite video game, Genshin Impact. Or possibly Assassins Creed. I have to admit it's hot. All layers of flowing silk and leather. Cinched at narrow waists. It is a damn good look.

And now the bastards are right in front of me. Steve scrambles to his feet. My body copies his. Steve bends into an extremely awkward bow. I'm not copying that. Thankfully, I've realised in time and managed to stop my body from being a complete idiot.

My eyes lock with the lead fey. At least I am assuming he is the lead fey. He is standing in the middle, taller than the others. And he is the only one with antlers. Nevermind that there is simply something about his presence that screams authority.

His eyes are amber and the pupils slitted like a cat. I can see bright burning intelligence, but I cannot decipher any emotion at all. Is it because his eyes are too alien for me to read, or because he is that damn good at hiding everything?

"James Broadwith," he says, and the cadence of his voice makes me shiver.

"Jamie," I correct automatically.

Oh fuck. Why did I do that? Pissing off a scary alien dude has to be a terrible idea. Even if he is just here as the new CEO. And even if he was just a new regular human CEO, that was still a stupid thing to say. Powerful men do not like to be corrected. And being called James for a five-minute conversation will not kill me.

I swallow, and I swear the sound is audible to everyone in the call centre.

"Jamie Broadwith, you now belong to me."

His accent is exquisitely exotic. It tingles over my skin and leaves me covered in goosebumps.

Wait. What? I now belong to him? As one of his many new employees? Right? That has to be what he means.

His two companions move swiftly. They stand beside me and take a firm grip of my arms. I'm now a fey sandwich. No one is grabbing Steve. Or any of my other coworkers.

"W…what?" I stammer.

He tilts his head, eyes narrowing. "I, Prince Rhydian Y Mabinogi, claim Jamie Broadwith as my pet."

Oh no, this cannot be good. Cold sweat trickles down my back. The prince turns sharply on his heels and strides away. My escorts drag me along after him. I'm more being carried upright than anything else, which is probably for the best. I can't even feel my legs right now, let alone remember how to make them move.

Dimly, I'm aware of everyone in the call centre staring at me in horror as I'm dragged away. But no one is saying anything. No one is helping. They are not brave enough. And I can't really blame them. But it is leaving a horrible sinking feeling in my gut and a bitter taste in my mouth.

This knowledge sinking into me is true. This knowledge is awful.

No one is going to save me.

I'm on my own.