One

Chapter One

The quiet murmur of conversation surrounded Emma as she sat in one of the best restaurants in Crystal Hollow. Well, one of the fanciest, at least. She already knew how to cook any dish on the menu. In reality, when it came to having someone cook for her, she’d be happier with a stack of pancakes and bacon, especially since it was early enough to call this a late brunch. This place was particularly egregious to her because she had worked with half the staff. They catered to the most pretentious clientele possible and were absolutely fine with elitism as long as they could turn a nice profit.

She did not want to be here. Places like this had driven her to abandon her successful career as a high-end chef and open her own catering business instead. Try to, at least. She was still struggling to get her business off the ground. And now, this…

She wriggled in her seat, adjusting the strap of the amethyst-purple sundress she was wearing. The vibrant color brought out the rich golden undertones of Emma’s brown skin more effectively than the pale lavender dress that her best friend, Hayden, had encouraged her to wear at first. Emma didn’t care if they were ‘spring colors.’ She didn’t give a damn about impressing this guy. She did care about Hayden, so Emma had at least gone along with wearing the diamond and amethyst necklace that Hayden had insisted she wear, as well as a set of teardrop diamond earrings with amethysts at their center and several matching rings—none of which happened to be on the ring finger of her left hand.

Emma curled her hand into a fist and gently pounded the table, her nerves getting the better of her. A man at a nearby table glanced at her uneasily. She smiled at him and straightened her fork in its place setting.

“I would rather be anywhere than here,” she muttered.

Apparently, so would her blind date. He was already ten minutes late. Emma was in no hurry to meet him. She had dragged her feet for the last two weeks while she ‘learned the basics’ of her new situation, but she couldn’t put it off any longer, no matter how much she wanted to.

The pattering beat of her heart made her head ache. Her palms were coated in a fine sheen of sweat. Normally, she was as cool as cucumber water on blind dates. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to communicate that. She also knew what she didn’t want, and being here was close to the top of that list. However, Hayden had been adamant that this meeting needed to happen if Emma was ever going to get her life back. Emma didn’t feel like she had much choice in the matter.

How did you say ‘no’ to a date with the Oak King?

Her stomach clenched. At this rate, she wouldn’t be able to force anything down. Sharing a meal with a member of the High Fae wasn’t something she ever thought she’d do. She hadn’t let herself believe that fairies were real since she was a child. Ugly memories rose to the surface of her mind—memories she was usually adept at shoving back in place. Pleasant ones came with them. Those were even worse.

She would not be tricked again.

When Emma had come out of a magical trance two weeks ago at an event she was catering, Hayden had introduced Emma to Jack-freaking-Frost. Emma had been terrified to realize they’d all been swept into a fairytale. The stories were one thing, but Emma knew first-hand that they did not end well for humans. Mortals and Fae were not meant to mix. Then Hayden had dropped the bombshell. Finn, the guy they’d been working with for the event, was also an elf. The two of them were in love, and Finn had already altered Hayden and made her one of the Fae. Jack Frost had hooked up with Ava, so now both of Emma’s best friends were dating elves.

At least they weren’t ‘kinda sorta married’ to one, as she was.

Emma stretched out her left hand again, staring at the bare patch of skin on her ring finger. How the hell was she going to get out of this? And what could she do for her friends, who didn’t know enough to be scared?

She had spent every free moment during the last two weeks going through all the books she had about the Fae, studying the Oak King and his counterpart, the Holly King. Both ruled over the Wheel of the Year. The Holly King oversaw the months where the nights were longer than the days—the dark half of the year. The Oak King ruled over the light half. Rather, the Oak King and Emma.

That was the only thing keeping her from utter panic. She had been infused with half of the power of the Wheel of the Year, making her a formidable opponent for any Fae who might think about pissing her off. Finn had been instructing both Emma and Hayden on how to use their new magic when Emma wasn’t studying. She was more interested in controlling it just long enough to get rid of it safely.

She rubbed her forehead, trying to get her headache to go away. Suddenly being flooded with unimaginable magical power was doing a number on her. Or maybe it was just the stress of being dragged into this nightmare. It was almost as bad as the mind-twisting knowledge that somehow in all of this mess the Oak King had made her the Queen of the Springtime Fae. She still didn’t understand why.

She didn’t need to understand. She just had to get out of it. Fairies were not to be trusted. The fairytales she’d grown up on were clear about that. And if her own experience was to be believed… Emma shoved the memories away again before they could resurface completely. Maybe Ava and Hayden thought they had found themselves two exceptions to that rule, but they were a long ways off from their own ‘happily-ever-afters.’ Emma didn’t trust any of the Fae.

A man entered the restaurant, wearing a dark suit, crisp white shirt, and silk tie. He was tall and lean, just as Ava and Hayden’s Fae boyfriends were. There was a reason Emma and Ava had taken to calling Finn ‘Prince Charming.’ This guy’s dark hair was cut short on the sides and longer on top. His features were striking, something she might see in a fashion magazine. Emma pinched her lips together, as if she might let slip thoughts she didn’t want anyone else to hear.

Not. My. Type.

Not that anyone had bothered to ask her what her type was. Or even if she wanted to be the freaking Queen of the Springtime Court. No, the Oak King had just decided for her. Had claimed her as his queen. Emma was going to have some very choice words for him on that matter when he arrived. Words he probably would not like.

A breeze picked up around her, strong enough to make the flowers in the centerpiece of the table spin in their vase. Emma took a deep breath and let it out through pursed lips, counting back from five. By the time she reached one, the wind was gone.

She had to be careful of her emotions now that she had magic—magic that she was going to use to let every Fae that thought of making mischief for her and her friends know that they had picked the wrong mortals to mess with. Her lips twitched into a brief snarl. She was no one’s to claim.

An older man at a nearby table stared at her, his eyes wide. This wasn’t the time or place to lose control. Emma coughed into her hand while she schooled her expression, then gave him a patronizing smile and batted her eyelashes at him.

After he’d turned back around in his seat, she murmured, “Why the hell am I even doing this?”

The man she’d seen enter waved at someone across the room. Emma watched his progress weaving among the tables. He smiled as he made his way toward an equally gorgeous man who greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.

“Okay,” Emma muttered. “I guess I’m not his type, either.”

She turned back around in her chair just in time to see another man enter. He was so tall, he had to duck to keep his tawny brown hair from brushing the top of the archway between the dining room and the bar. A server slid past him and had to turn entirely sideways to fit through the space left over from the guest’s massive shoulders. He wore a pale green, three-piece suit over a mint shirt, with a deep golden tie at his throat. He hooked a thick finger under the collar of his shirt as if to loosen it, but froze, grimacing as he left it be. He let his huge arm drop back to his side, his hands in fists.

Now this one—this one—was her type.

He scanned the room and their eyes locked. His scowl became a bit less pronounced, but his eyebrows lowered over his jade-green eyes, his focus fixated upon her. Shivers skittered up and down her spine, goosebumps rising on her arms. Her mind was immediately flooded with imaginative examples of just what the two of them could get up to if given the right opportunity. Which this was not.

Why did she have to meet this absolutely perfect example of a man when she was supposed to be having lunch with the Oak King? The man started making his way toward her, occasionally nudging aside people in their chairs to give him enough space to walk through the dining room.

Emma couldn’t keep herself from grinning. She knew she shouldn’t. She shouldn’t even have made eye contact with this guy. Now she was going to have to find a way to let him down easy as quickly as possible. Who knew what the Oak King would do if he saw them together when he arrived. Maybe she could get this guy’s number really discreetly…

He stopped right next to her table, looking profoundly uncomfortable. He craned his neck to one side, then the other, a loud cracking sound coming from it with each movement. His hands kept flexing and curling alternately at his sides as he glanced around the room, then back to her, then back to the room, his mouth opening and closing as if he didn’t know what to say.

“Hi,” she said.

He froze, staring at her through narrowed eyes. “Hello.”

“I’m Emma.” She smiled at him, leaning forward on her elbows while playing with the strand of diamonds at her décolletage.

“Lachlan,” he said, seeming relieved. He pulled out a chair and sat across from her.

“I’m actually meeting someone.”

“I know.” He leaned back in his chair and stared at her.

“Wait, you’re not…”

“The Oak King?” he said. “I am.”

This? This exquisite example of a man was her ‘husband?’ If it weren’t for the impossible circumstances surrounding them, she would have been thrilled to hook up with him. Knowing what he was, how he had transformed her life into chaos…

‘Thrilled’ was not the right word. But she was certain she’d come up with a few choice ones throughout their blind date. She just had to be careful she didn’t mess up her chance to get out of all this in one piece.