Fae's Destruction

Brea Robinson is a prisoner. 

Granted, her prison has gilded halls, servants, and an aunt intent on throwing a lavish wedding. A wedding for Brea. Fae marriages are unbreakable, everlasting. 

As Brea barrels toward her forever prison in a marriage to a man she doesn’t love, the three Fae kingdoms are thrown into turmoil. But no matter how close Queen Regan’s enemies get, it won’t be enough to save Brea from the fate she chose. 

Some sacrifices result in death. Others only make you wish for death. 

Brea didn’t surrender herself to the powerful Fargelsi Queen for nothing. She saved her best friend and found the missing princess. She said goodbye to the man she loved so he could reclaim his throne. 

Everything has a purpose, everyone has a role to play and if marrying the wrong brother is hers, at least she’ll help bring an end to this war. 

Because Queen Regan O’Rourke might be family, but her rule is over. 

It's time for a new generation to unite the Fae.

A treaty was a promise, a vow, binding in magic. Those who broke the ancient agreements would see themselves lose something they held dear. 

Power. 

Lochlan had seen it before. His parents were good rulers, faithful rulers, but they’d also been tied to Fargelsi in a treaty. When Brandon O’Rourke ruled the eternally beautiful kingdom, it worked. Fargelsi, Iskalt, and Eldur lived in harmony with queens and kings who didn’t only respect each other, they were friends. There was love in the fae realm back then, back before everything fell apart. 

Lochlan stood on a stone balcony with one hand on the sculpted half wall surrounding it. From his vantage point, he could look out across the fields of Iskalt, untamed and wild, frozen. 

He glanced behind him at the tall double wooden doors that led back into the bedroom once occupied by his parents. 

If they hadn’t broken faith with Fargelsi, would they be there still? 

His hand shook, and he curled his fingers into a fist to keep the freezing temperatures from making him weak. 

After Regan came to power on the death of her brother, Lochlan’s parents and Faolan broke the treaty by taking the only Fargelsian heir and hiding her in the human realm. 

And his parents died on the journey, cut down by Fargelsian soldiers who shouldn’t have been able to find them. 

But the magic of a fae treaty was absolute. 

There was a cost to being unfaithful to the words. 

“Your Majesty.” A young page boy opened the balcony door. 

Lochlan turned, eyeing the kid who’d called him Majesty. It had been over two months since he took the crown from his uncle’s head, yet the title was foreign to him. It belonged to his father, not the boy left behind, the one who hadn’t even been raised within these borders. 

Ice raced through his veins, but he didn’t pull his cloak in tighter. After living in the kingdom of fire and heat, he wasn’t used to the snow and ice. But he was born of Iskalt, so the ice belonged to him. He let himself feel it, revel in it. 

He was home. 

“Speak, boy.” 

The page flinched at his harsh tone, but Lochlan didn’t have the patience to worry about every palace worker’s reaction to him. “S-sire, the Eldurian delegation has arrived.” 

Faolan. He hated how he longed to see the Eldurian queen, how he felt she’d put more right in Iskalt than he could hope to. He’d seen the woman lose two daughters and hold her head high. Nothing could defeat her, and Iskalt needed a calming presence like that. 

“I’m sure they want to rest after the long journey.” He entered his rooms, and the page followed. “Tell Iain to make sure they have everything they require. Rooms have been prepared for them.” He reached the door and opened it, gesturing the page through. “It is late. I will meet with the delegation over breakfast in the morning.”

It was a sign of respect. Iskalt was a kingdom of night. Only when the moon appeared did they have magic. Eldur’s magic thrived in the day. Starting the meetings when they had the upper hand showed honor. 

The page disappeared around the corner, and Loch stepped into the hall, shutting the door behind him. There was someone he had to see. 

The Iskalt dungeons lay below the palace, their halls damp as water seeped into their walls. Veins of ice crept down the rough stone, a far cry from the wood-paneled walls just two floors above. 

Lochlan glanced each way to make sure no one followed him. He’d broken his guards’ habit of watching him wherever he went. His footsteps echoed off the low ceilings. 

Only two guards sat at the entrance to the deeper cells, both bundled up in furs. Lochlan nodded to them as he passed. 

They mumbled shaky “your Majestys.” 

Lochlan didn’t remember much of his time in Iskalt as a kid, but he could see himself running through these halls, daring friends to enter the small cells. During his father’s reign, they’d gone unused. Once Callum came to power, he’d filled them with those loyal to the old king. 

The first thing Lochlan had done as king was free the many men and women who’d been down here for years. He’d also kept many of Callum’s loyal men locked away before transporting them to the prison realm. 

Now, the long line of dark cells held only one prisoner. 

“Nephew.” Callum’s hoarse voice rose out of the dark. “It’s kind of you to visit.”

Lochlan lifted a hand, calling on his magic to create a ball of blue light in his palm. It illuminated Callum’s sneering face, pale from two months underground. 

“I’m not here for you.” Lochlan met the gaze of one of the few family members he had left. Only two people in this world shared his blood, and both were on the opposite side of the coming war. 

Lochlan was very much alone. 

“Do enlighten me.” Callum bent over as a cough wracked through him. He put a hand on the wall to steady himself. 

Lochlan glanced at the pile of ratty blankets in the corner. “Do you need another blanket?” He didn’t want to kill his uncle. Every time he considered it, he remembered how much his father had loved Callum once. 

“You can’t assuage your guilt with blankets, nephew.” 

Lochlan’s jaw clenched. “I have no guilt.” He leaned toward the bars. “I am not your nephew. In this kingdom, I am the king. You’d do well to remember that.” He stepped back, letting the light dim. “I came down here to tell you tomorrow is a great day for Iskalt. Faolan of Eldur is in this palace.” 

Callum growled. “That witch.”

“I will bring Iskalt back from the destruction you led it to. We are going to destroy Queen Regan, and you’ll be here to watch it happen.” His smiled. “You’ve lost, uncle.” He turned to walk away.

“I should have had you killed when you were nothing but an orphaned pup,” Callum growled. 

Lochlan paused. “Yes. That would have been smart.” 

“When will I be heading to the prison realm?”

“You won’t.” Lochlan turned without another look at the man who’d stolen his throne and hurt his people, making a promise to himself that he’d never look upon the man again. “I will not let your crimes fade in our memories, uncle.” 

Callum O’Shea was now a part of Iskalt’s past. 

As he emerged from the dungeons, he wondered what the kingdom’s future would be? What about his future? 

A few short months ago, he’d thought he knew. 

Brea. 

Her eyes haunted his sleep, fathomless blue eyes that flashed yellow with her magic. What was happening to her now? She’d been a prisoner in Fargelsi for too long, and there’d been no word of her. 

He wasn’t watching where he was going when he slammed into someone, sending them sprawling to the velvet carpet of the hall. 

“Ouch,” the man groaned, rubbing his head. “Do you have to be so big and bull-like?” He still hadn’t looked up. “It’s like getting trampled by Hagrid.” 

Lochlan’s eyes widened. “What do you know of Hagrid?” 

“Only that he’s a half-giant with a heart of gold.” The man picked himself up off the floor and froze. “Wait… what do you know of Hagrid?” 

“Human,” Lochlan growled, his finger’s closing around the man’s arm. “Come with me.”

“Ow, dude, all you had to do was ask!” The man whined the entire time Lochlan dragged him down the hall past curious servants. 

Lochlan shoved him through a doorway and stared at everyone in the room until they scurried away. 

The man pushed away from him and blew messy hair out of his eyes. “Whoa.” He turned in a circle, taking in the domed ceilings of the library. High shelves lined the walls with ornate golden carvings. It was a beautiful room, but Lochlan missed the cozier library in Eldur where he’d spent so much time with Alona and Finn. 

The man ran a finger over spines. “These are all fae books, aren’t they?” He turned to face Lochlan. “The Eldurian library has a better collection. You can’t say you’re a book collector without the full Harry Potter series.” 

Lochlan cleared his throat. “What are you after, human?” 

“After?” The man shrugged. “I got lost on the way back to my room.”

“There are no humans in the Iskalt court.” Lochlan advanced on him. “I would know.”

“How?” The man crossed his arms over his chest, lifting his chin in defiance. There was something familiar that had Lochlan stepping back. 

“What?”

“Do you know every single fae in your court? Who are you? The king?” He cracked a smile like it was a ridiculous notion. 

Lochlan’s brows drew together. “What is a human doing in Iskalt?” He only knew of one human in all the fae world—Alona. 

The man’s jaw dropped open. “Oh wow, you are, aren’t you?” He laughed. “Hard eyes, all blue-flashy and crap. Ridiculously long Legolas hair. They spoke of you at the Eldur court.” He dropped into an elaborate bow, throwing his arms out to the side in mockery. “Shall I kiss your feet, your Majesty?”

“Stand up, fool, and tell me who you are.”

“Man.” He straightened. “Rowena said you were a grump, but that doesn’t begin to cover it.” 

Rowena? Human. 

The library started spinning, and Lochlan reached out for something, anything to hold on to as the world came crashing to a halt. “Myles?” he croaked out. The boy Brea loved more than herself, the one she’d surrendered to Regan for. 

“At your service.” He stuck out his hand. 

Lochlan only stared at it. “You expect me to shake that?”

Myles dropped it with a shrug. “Guess not, grumpy king.”

“Brea preferred douchey Loch.” The words slipped out before he could stop them. He pressed his lips together. 

Myles smile dropped. “She also preferred sacrificing herself for people without giving them a choice in the matter.” There was no bitterness in his voice, only sadness. 

Lochlan sighed, hearing his own desperation reflected in this stranger’s voice. But Myles didn’t feel like a stranger. In an odd way, he was connected to Brea, like a part of her. “Brea is stubborn.”

“You can say that again.” Myles’ shoulders dropped, and he sat down on a wooden settee. “This is very uncomfortable, by the way.”

“I know.” After growing up in the opulent palace of Eldur, he’d grown used to a level of comfort not seen in Iskalt. Everything here felt stiff, cold. 

It wasn’t yet his home. 

But it had to be. 

He studied the young man who was so far from home, the one Lochlan’s own brother had abducted and forced through a portal. Yet the fear in his eyes wasn’t for himself. Lochlan knew because he recognized it. They both loved the same girl—in different ways—and didn’t know if they’d ever get her back. 

When Regan abducted Alona, Lochlan’s heart broke. 

When Brea returned to Fargelsi and Regan, his heart stopped beating completely, turning to ice inside his chest. 

Maybe that was how he was able to lead his men into a seemingly unwinnable battle… and win. 

Myles hunched forward, burying his face in his hands. “It’s been two months since I arrived in Eldur, a freed prisoner who still felt very much locked away. I won’t be truly free until she is.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. I don’t even know you.”

“Because some part of you knows I’m the only person who can understand.” Not the only person. This was what Finn had been going through since the day they found out Alona was gone. Lochlan had been sympathetic then, but he hadn’t quite understood the gut-wrenching pain. Not like he did now.

“I want her back, your Majesty.” Myles lifted his face, tears hanging in his lashes. “I need—”

“Listen, this isn’t the end for her. Brea is strong.” Lochlan pushed away from the shelf and crossed to stand in front of Myles. “She’s tougher than anyone I’ve ever known. We’ll get her back.” 

He nodded. “We will.” 

Lochlan ran a hand through his hair. “And look, when we’re alone, call me Loch. It’s what she would have wanted.” He’d spent months keeping people in the palace at arm’s length, wanting them to respect him as king, but not as a friend. 

But now… with this human… connecting with him was like having Brea by his side. 

Myles’ smile was weak. “Yeah, okay. And I promise only to call you Legolas in my head.” 

Lochlan quirked a brow. 

“You know who that is, right? I saw the library full of human books in Eldur, and Rowena told me they were yours.”

“Do I know who Legolas is?” Lochlan scoffed. “I am the king. Don’t ask disrespectful questions.”

Myles laughed, but there was little joy in it. He got to his feet. “I think we’re going to be friends, Loch.”

“I don’t make friends.” Lochlan had only ever had three friends in his life, but Finn and Alona were more like family. And Brea was… special. She’d refused to leave him alone until he craved her company. 

Myles smirked. “Always time to start.”

* * *

The ink dried as the magic drew it into the parchment before both Lochlan and Faolan. They stood side by side behind a table on the dais in the cavernous Iskalt throne room. 

A crowd of onlookers, both from Iskalt and Eldur, watched as their leaders tied their kingdoms together. 

There were two kinds of binding magic a fae could enter in to. The first was the most sacred. A marriage. When two fae performed the marriage ceremony, they were tied for eternity, unable to love another. 

The second was a treaty. It could be signed between kingdoms or simply neighbors. 

Once Faolan scrawled her signature at the bottom of the page, she slid it to Lochlan. He dipped his quill in the ink pot before etching his name into the document. 

After he was finished, he looked out at the crowd, finding many faces, some familiar, others foreign. Tierney stood with Myles and a tall girl he recognized at once. 

Neeve. 

There was no time for him to dwell on the Fargelsian’s presence or how she too was released. Iain walked forward to stand at Lochlan’s side. He was one of the few men who’d served Callum that Lochlan didn’t send to the prison realm. As the head of the palace household, he was needed to keep things in running order. 

He’d also served Lochlan’s parents faithfully. 

“Sire,” he whispered. “Dusk has fallen.”

After a day of meeting with his old family who were now foreign dignitaries, he’d waited until this very moment. A treaty between the kingdoms could only be magicked at dawn or dusk when both Iskalt and Eldur held magic in their veins. 

“Thank you, Iain.” Lochlan nodded to Faolan, and they turned to the crowd, standing side by side. 

Faolan spoke first. “I, Queen Faolan Mordha Duin Cahill enter into a promise with Iskalt willingly. Eldur will honor this treaty and obey its demands. Eldur will come to Iskalt’s aid should the need arise. We will work together to defeat evil in this world and to protect our shared people.” She pressed her open hand to the center of the parchment, and golden power flowed down her arm, setting her hand alight. The power faded from her skin, soaking into the document. When she removed her hand, the print faded. 

An awed silence hung over the room as Lochlan stepped up to repeat Faolan’s words, making only necessary changes. By the time his ice blue magic faded from the page, no one would question Iskalt or Eldur’s commitment to peace. 

But there would be no peace while Regan ruled Fargelsi. Of that, he was sure. 

Tierney walked forward and put an arm around her wife before taking Lochlan’s hand. “Today was a good day.” She smiled and pressed a kiss to Faolan’s cheek. 

Lochlan nodded, gazing at the mass of fae who had started wandering from the room to find positions outside among the crowd waiting for their king’s speech. It wasn’t just a good day, it was needed as the first step toward a better future for all of them. 

So, why couldn’t Lochlan feel any of it? Since the day he’d left Eldur to regain his throne, he’d been a walking man of stone, unaffected by anyone or anything. 

“I have a speech to make.” He hurried toward the door, but Tierney sped up and looped her arm through his. 

“Smile, Lochlan. You just did right by your people.”

“I know.” He sighed. 

“I think about her too, you know. Both of them. We all do.” Tierney offered him a kind smile, one that had always made him feel loved, wanted. 

But now, it only set him further adrift in a sea of icebergs. 

“I wish I didn’t.”

“Don’t say that. One day, when they return, it will help them to know they weren’t forgotten even on our best days. And make no mistake, boyo, this is one of the best. It has been a long time since Eldur had an ally. Much will change now, and it is because of you.” 

“I didn’t do anything other than get injured in a battle. You give me credit that is due to my men.”

Tierney pulled him to a stop outside a set of double doors. “Warriors need someone to lead them, Loch. Something they believe in, and they believe in you. Don’t forget that. Your people… they believe in you. That is more powerful than any fear Callum instilled in them.” 

He pulled her into a hug, needing to feel like the kid she’d raised once more. Faolan was the queen who took him in, but when Tierney entered their lives, everything changed. She was just as important to Eldur as their queen because of how she changed the people around her with kindness. As one of the most powerful magicians in the Eldur court, she could have had anything. 

And all she’d wanted was a family.

“I love you, boyo.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Now, go make the Iskalt citizens fall for the Lochlan charm.” Her lips curved up at her own joke. They both knew he had no charm, but he had passion, and maybe that was more important. 

A guard opened the doors that led out onto one of the palace’s many balconies. This particular one wrapped around the front of the palace, sitting high above the arched doors. 

He walked across the red-tiled floor to reach the carved golden rail. Guards in steel armor and blue threaded overcoats stood at intervals. On each end, an archer prepared their arrows for any sign of attack. 

And below… that was what caught Lochlan’s eye. A crowd stretched through the square and out into the fields beyond the palace—numbering in the thousands. Iskalt citizens had come from their villages to hear their king say their troubles were ending. 

Lochlan touched his throat, amplifying his voice. “Greetings, Iskalt!”

The crowd cheered, their flags flapping in the night winds. Most of them held lights in their hands, and it made the field dance with what looked like a thousand tiny multi-colored stars. 

It was beautiful. 

For the first time since taking the crown, Lochlan felt like he was where he was meant to be. 

He remembered Tierney’s words and channeled her optimism. “Today is a good day for Iskalt. We have entered into a binding agreement with Eldur.”

They roared their approval. 

“I will not promise the troubles are over. Our kingdom has long been a harsh one where crops struggle to produce enough to feed our villages, and raids are common. No more! Shipments of food from Eldur’s bountiful fields will begin to arrive. Hunger will not defeat us!” 

The applause was deafening. 

He went on. “Our army has grown since my uncle’s imprisonment as more loyal Iskaltians come forward to protect the kingdom. We will now protect the trade routes and make routine stops at the villages. Criminals will not defeat us!”

More cheering. 

“And finally, it is time to bring peace to the fae world. We will soon devise plans to help all the kingdoms. Fargelsi will not defeat us!” 

Lochlan smiled as he watched his people cheer for the future he so desperately wanted. 

Once the sounds died down, he swept his gaze across the clearing and dropped his voice. “We have all lost people. Many of you mourn loved ones.” His eyes found Myles at the other side of the balcony. “I too have suffered, but their losses will not be in vain. Our sorrow will not defeat us. We are Iskalt.” He pounded his chest. “We are Iskalt.”

Their cheering rose toward the night sky as if telling the moon who they were. 

And who Lochlan had just become. 

A king. 

No matter what happened to Brea and Alona, that was something he couldn’t escape, so he had to step into it and let it become him. 

Once inside, Faolan greeted him with tears in her eyes. “I never thought I’d see the day when Niall and Enid O’Shea’s son took the crown. They’d be proud of you, Lochlan.” 

Tierney wrapped her arms around him. “Brea would be proud too.” 

He almost laughed at that. Brea would probably have found his speech ridiculous, and she’d have let him know. But he’d give anything to hear her criticism, to watch her eyes spark as he angered her time and again. 

While he ruled a kingdom, she sat as a prisoner of another. 

Whatever torture Regan was subjecting her to, he only hoped Brea could come back from it, that she wouldn’t lose the fire in her soul.