Page 1 of Fey Empire (Fey Lords #5)

Chapter one

T oday is the day I meet my future husband. The man who I must honour and obey in all things. The man who will take my body to take my magic.

And he is not even human.

A heavy sigh escapes me and echoes around my empty bedroom. On the other side of the stiff velvet curtains, birds are singing. Dawn is on the way, and I haven’t slept a wink. It doesn’t look like I’m going to either.

It is early May, just past Beltaine. Sunrise in England this time of year is around five-thirty a.m. Rupert, the valet, will be coming in to wake me at six-thirty. So, there is no point in trying to sleep now. I might as well lie here and contemplate my fate.

My gaze tracks over the ceiling. There is just enough light spilling around the curtains to cast shadows on the ornate coving. It’s a nice house. But it is not home. It never will be.

I’ll never see home again, and soon I will be living in Buckingham Palace. With a fey prince.

My heart starts to race. So, I take several slow breaths to calm it down.

It’s fine. Everything is fine. I was always destined to be married to someone. I may have assumed it was going to be to a human, some earl or duke, but surely being a vessel to a fey will not be so very different?

One more deep breath.

Thoughts of my brother threaten to rise up. I shove them down. Monty isn’t coming to save me. Mother has hidden me too well. And once I belong to a fey prince, no mere human will be able to take me away.

I know Monty never wanted this for me. That knowledge is enough. A touchstone to give me strength. Someone out there cares, and that is far more than a lot of people have.

Suddenly, the bedroom door swings open. I flinch, but it is only Rupert. I’ve lost track of time, and it is six-thirty already.

His ice-cold blue eyes bore into me for a moment. Then he steps into the room. My stomach twists uncomfortably.

He opens the curtains wide, spilling pink dawn sunlight into the room. He turns to face me, and he glides up to the bed. He throws the covers back.

I remain still and stare blankly up at the ceiling. My body can’t escape this, but my mind can.

He lifts up my night robe and peers at my naked groin and belly. It’s hard not to squirm.

Rupert raises an eyebrow at me.

I swallow. “It is merely morning affliction.”

I haven’t been pleasuring myself. I wouldn’t. I know my pleasure belongs to my future husband.

Rupert looks under the bed and in my wastebin. He finds no tissues or handkerchiefs. Because there are none.

Eventually, he returns to the bed.

“A cold wash should remedy your affliction. ”

“Yes,” I agree, while fighting to keep the misery out of my voice.

I lower my night robe and get out of bed. I trail after Rupert to the washroom. He turns the shower on and sets it to cold.

Silently, I pull my night robe off. Then, gritting my teeth, I step under the spray. I quickly get to work scrubbing myself clean while Rupert observes.

Mercifully, he deems me clean enough fairly quickly. With chattering teeth, I turn off the water.

He hands me a towel and then steps outside while I use the loo. Then he accompanies me back to the bedroom. Other staff have been in and made the bed. My clothes for the day are neatly laid out.

A light-grey two-piece tailored suit, with a crisp white linen shirt and pale blue tie.

That’s a relief. I was half expecting Mother to dress me in something shocking for my first meeting with my future husband. She really must think the prince is more interested in my magic than my body.

Rupert quietly leaves, and I swiftly dress. Going through the motions robotically.

My ears are still sore from being pierced, hopefully that will pass soon. The tiny silver earrings are beautiful and necessary. Magical translators. I will be able to understand the fey as if they are speaking English.

Mother’s ears were already pierced, so her matching gift was not painful. But envy is an ugly emotion. I should put it aside.

I give my hair a quick comb, then I straighten my tie in the mirror .

My reflection stares forlornly back at me. Tension clear in the corner of my eyes. I poke at my face with my fingers, pulling at the muscles and trying to get them to relax. I need to look perfect.

It’s time for breakfast. With Mother.

I glance at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece. My appearance is going to have to do. I can’t be late.

With one last glance in the mirror, I turn and leave. I hurry down the stairs, straighten my shoulders and enter the breakfast room.

Mother is sitting at the table. A cup of coffee on the starched, white-linen tablecloth in front of her. The newspaper she is reading is covering her face.

I give her a quick bow and then silently move over to the side table to serve myself breakfast.

“Fruit only,” Mother says without looking up from her morning paper.

My fingers let go of the porridge ladle and move over to the fruit.

“The engagement has not been formalised. You cannot allow yourself to get fat, and you absolutely cannot be bloated for your first meeting. You should know this.”

“Yes, Mother. Sorry, Mother.”

I take my small plate of fruit slices and join her at the table. Sitting at my place across from her.

I nibble at my fruit while she sips her coffee and slowly turns the pages of her newspaper. The silence is oppressive. Thick and heavy.

One good thing about being married is that I will be free of Mother. I will escape all her criticism. Her disapproval. Her disappointment that I was not born a formidable mage like her, but merely a feeble vessel. Too weak to wield my own magic. Only able to give my magic to others through sex.

I pick up my last apple slice. My stomach rumbles.

Monty is a formidable mage. She has one son to be proud of.

Except he is rebellious and disrespectful and does not agree with her worship of the fey.

I even heard the servants gossiping about how he has filled our ancestral home with his boyfriend’s friends and lovers.

His boyfriend, who used to be a sex slave.

Along with his friends who are not even human, they are vampires and shifters and kelpies and such.

As if having a boyfriend wasn’t shocking enough. Even though Monty’s lover is a vessel like me, and a mage and a vessel pairing follows the natural order of things. But apparently, not buying your vessel is uncivilised.

The servants said they all run around our old house having orgies and wild parties and trashing the place. I don’t believe that. Monty would never, and I met his boyfriend, Pink, once. And I can’t imagine him doing anything like that either.

I suspect the truth is that Monty is sheltering his found family from the fey invasion. Keeping his friends safe. Protecting them.

I glance over at my mother. Monty isn’t offering people up to the fey.

As if aware of my attention, Mother shakes out her paper and places it on the table. I hastily lower my gaze.

“I don’t have to tell you to be on your absolute best behaviour, do I?”

“No, Mother.”

She stands, so I do too.

She strides out of the room, and I follow behind. Three steps. The polite, respectful distance between a mage and a vessel.

We reach the sweeping driveway. The sunlight feels nice on my skin, but there is no time to enjoy it because the car is already ready.

I slide onto the cool leather seat. Careful to keep my distance from Mother. Fred shuts our doors and takes his place at the wheel. The engine purrs to life and moves off down the drive.

I don’t know why I have such a strong urge to look back at the house. It is only a temporary home. And I’m coming back this evening. I’m not being given away permanently. Not yet, that fate is for another day.

I watch the scenery pass and try not to feel like a man condemned.

All too soon, we reach Buckingham Palace. It looks exactly the same. From the outside. On the inside, it is now the fey court. The headquarters of the new rulers of Britain. And nobody knows what has happened to the human royal family.

A shudder dances along my spine. Maybe I will discover the truth when I am living here.

The car stops, and Fred opens the door for Mother, and then for me. I get out and smooth down my suit jacket.

Then, I stare at the toes of my black shiny shoes, as fey officials come out to greet Mother. Goosebumps erupt all over my flesh. I have never been this close to the fey before. I can feel their strange magic. The strength of it is terrifying, and these are merely officials .

The swish of their silk robes is so alien. I can’t bear to look at their cat-slitted eyes or their startling ethereal beauty.

I swallow. How on earth is the prince going to be pleased with me? Amongst humans, I’m considered extremely pretty. People like my snow-white hair and the Mediterranean-sea blue of my eyes. Unusual colouring, no doubt inherited from my distant fey ancestor.

I’m pretty by human standards solely thanks to fey blood from more than seven generations ago. My looks do not compare to full-blooded fey. Not in the slightest. They are creatures of extraordinary beauty. And an eerie, dangerous grace.

I must look ugly to their eyes.

My future husband must be so disappointed.

I fight the urge to fidget as we are led inside. I keep my gaze firmly on my feet. I always do, and I have no wish to see how Buckingham Palace has been changed. Not until I live here and there is no longer any choice.

My heart starts to race even faster. I need to concentrate on hiding my trembling.

I barely notice my surroundings as we are ushered into a mercifully normal looking drawing room.

There are even more fey in here. A veritable crowd.

I sneak a quick glance. Two of the assembled fey have horns, the fey symbol of royalty.

A surge of adrenaline rushes through my veins. One of the horned fey has loose jet-black hair tumbling all the way to his waist. The other has chestnut brown hair, mostly done up with twists and plaits.

I swallow. I think the brown-haired one is my prince .

I barely hear the introductions. I just about register Prince Dyfri y Mhorrighanogi, and then the name I’ve been waiting for is spoken.

Prince Selwyn y Mabinogi.

My future husband.

Somehow, I remember just in time to curtsy and not bow. Amongst the fey, consorts and vessels curtsy. Regardless of gender.

I hope all my practising has not been in vain.

Introductions are over. Conversations murmur to life. Drinks are served. Ordinary seeming champagne, in ordinary seeming champagne glasses. I take a delicate sip.

Oh my. Everyone is discreetly drifting over to the other side of the large room. Leaving me alone with the brown-haired prince.

Giving the prince a semblance of privacy to inspect his gift.

I take in a breath and lift my gaze. It is polite to let him see what he has been offered.

His deep brown eyes have flecks of amber in them. The dark pupils are slitted like a panther’s. Meeting his gaze sends a jolt through me, one that I feel all the way to my toes. Every single atom of my being reacts. It’s like being struck with electricity.

I cannot look away.

His skin is pale and smooth. Completely unblemished. His cheekbones are inhumanly pronounced, giving his face sharp angles. His antlers are strangely majestic. I can sense his magic. Vast and endless. I feel like I am standing next to a star. Or a void.

He really is not human .

I wonder what his cock is like? Maybe he has two? What if it is barbed? Or normal enough except for being enormous? Whatever it is, I’m going to have to take it inside me.

A shiver wracks my body.

Something vaguely resembling a smile twists his lips. He is staring at me intently. Extremely intently. As if he is attempting to see the back of my skull and down into my soul.

“Laurie,” he says softly.

I blink. He just said Laurie. My childhood name. What my brother and father called me. What my brother still calls me even though Mother has been insisting on Lawrence for years.

How does he know my name?

I stare into his eyes.

His smile widens. My heart crashes against my ribcage.

I have a feeling Prince Selwyn Y Mabinogi knows a lot of things he should not.