Chapter One

Niko

"Five hundred years." I sigh loudly.

For half a millennium I have lived in Runic, the realm for all magikal creatures. My father, Merrick, is the high ruler of Runic. He rules with fairness and compassion, but his years are coming to an end. He cannot rule forever.

For seven hundred and fifty years a Fae can live a long and fruitful life, after which he returns to the dust from which he came. My father will reach his dissolution in three short weeks and then he will cease to exist. When he leaves this realm, I will be the high ruler of Runic, a duty I am not looking forward to. I love my people but there is so much I have to offer up before I can take the throne.

I once asked my father if he knew why we only lived to a certain age, and he said he didn't know. No one does.

"You don't have a choice, Niko," my best friend Hayden says from his seat in front of my desk. "You need to find a Consort. You need to continue the royal line."

"I am well informed about what I need to do." I frown at him before continuing with the paperwork laid out before me. "What I don't know is where I am going to find someone I can stand to be around."

Hayden contemplates my words for a moment. We have had this conversation many times over the past hundred years. He is aware of how I feel about the women at court. They are all so willing to fall in line and offer up everything and anything to be by my side, even though they know nothing about me.

I will spend my remaining years with the woman I merge with, rule a realm with her by my side, and start a family. I can't just merge with any woman. I want to merge with a woman that is my equal, not someone that wants to be a damn doormat. The high ruler of Runic needs a Consort that can help him rule, not just a pretty piece of arm candy to make him look good.

"Have you thought about going to see the Oracle?" Hayden asks after long moments of silence. "There may be some insight waiting for you."

There isn't any time for me to form a reply to his suggestion before the door to my office opens, and my mother strides in. My father follows close behind and when our gazes meet, he rolls his eyes. I know she is here to lay into me yet again and there isn't much I can do but take it. Hayden smiles widely before slipping out and closing the door behind him.

"You need to decide," my mother huffs. "Your father's dissolution is too close to keep putting it off. We need a leader, and you cannot take the throne if you haven't found your Consort."

"I am well aware of how this works, Mother." I sigh loudly, rubbing at my temples.

"Don't you dare, Nikolas!" she scolds, her tone serious. The knowledge of not just my father's dissolution but hers a year later already weighs heavy on her heart. "You have put this off far too long."

"Leave him be, Amara," my father interjects before this can become another full-blown fight between my mother and me. "He is his father's son. After all, if I correctly remember, our merging ceremony was only a day before my father's dissolution."

My mother blushes and my father chuckles. The two of them have been together since my father was only two hundred years old. They are sickeningly in love with one another, always touching, sharing secret smiles and their inside jokes. I can't see myself sharing that kind of love and devotion with anyone. Hell, I barely tolerate most people.

"I know what my duties are," I say running my hands through my hair. "But I won't merge our line with another just for the sake of it."

"What do you expect from your Consort?" my father asks as he sits beside me on the deep blue couch set in my office. "Perhaps if we knew we could help you seek her out."

His patience knows no bounds. He has been stuck me and my mother for years as we argue about what my duty is and what I want.

"I don't know what I want." Frustration laces every word. "I do know that I don't want to be alone after the two of you are gone."

"Then we need to find the person that will stand by you," my mother says gently, her eyes softening as she speaks.

If only it were that easy.

****

Cassandra

I wish I could get away from all these people. They look at me like there is something wrong with me. For no other reason than I refuse to let them match me to a man I didn't choose. I don't want to merge with Owen, and I will try everything in my power to stop it from happening.

My mother only wants this match so that our coven can become one with the Galea Coven and build our strength. I have been fighting against this for the past eighteen months, and I am losing the battle. I have been called in to see the elders and now I'm being scolded like a toddler.

"Cassandra." One of the elders sighs. "You need to do what is best for the coven. As the last direct descendant of one of the original Salem witches, it is your responsibility."

"I know what my responsibilities are," I say for the millionth time, my gaze casting around the twelve elders and my mother. "I don't want to merge with Owen. I can't see myself building a life with someone like him. There is something very off about that man."

"What is that supposed to mean?" another elder asks.

"Just what I said. He has a darkness about him that I can't place. Something rotten inside him."

My mother huffs. "You spent an hour with Owen. You don't know a single thing about him. I didn't know you were so quick to judge, Cassandra."

I bristle at the comment. My senses, my instincts, have never led me astray. "I am the future High Priestess of this coven and as such, I should be allowed to choose my Consort."

My voice is louder than usual as it carries through the gathering. I rarely speak up or defend myself. I was born into a position that should give me power but has only made me a puppet to my mother and the rest of our coven.

"What do you suggest?" she asks.

"Give me until the next full moon to find someone acceptable to all parties involved." I scan the entire gathering. "I deserve the chance to pick my own Consort. I know I won't ascend to my full powers if I don't merge with someone before my twenty-fifth birthday."

"And if you can't find someone?" one of the elders questions skeptically.

"Then I will take Owen as my Consort without any further issues or complaints," I concede.

Their reasons for me finding a Consort as soon as possible haven't changed throughout the numerous arguments we've had, and I don't feel the need to listen to them repeat themselves. But I do need to get away from all of them before I say or do something I will come to regret. I end the conversation by turning and walking away. I can't handle this anymore. I feel like a piece of cattle being sold off to the highest bidder and it is breaking me apart. Pushing the heavy doors to the meeting hall open, I step into the bright autumn sunlight.

"Are you okay?" Tayla asks as I exit the meeting hall.

I don't know where she came from but I'm more than happy to see my best friend. She is one of the only people who understands why I am fighting so hard against merging with Owen. She gets that I don't want to spend my life married to someone I can't stand. Tayla understands why I need to follow my heart, and why I can't just merge with someone for the sake of the coven.

"Great," I say sarcastically.

"So, it went well?" Tayla bats her eyes at me.

"Don't try to be obtuse, we both know you aren't," I reply as we continue to my house.

"Did you get it sorted out?"

"Sort of," I mumble. "I need to find a Consort before the next full moon."

Tayla's eyes stretch to the size of saucers before she bursts out laughing. "I don't know how to break it to you, but you're screwed."

"Royally screwed."