Page 1 of The Forbidden Fae King

Chapter 1

Keira

My body moves in time with my mare, her galloping hoofbeats in sync with my racing heart. The wind rushes at my face, throwing my hair back, and offsetting the hot steam that rises from the horse’s body from its exertion. The thick trees of the ancient woods fly past, a blur of brown and evergreen. My soul soars with the thrill of the chase.

It is the only time I feel free. Alive.

Another horse rushes in beside me, its hooves pounding on the narrow path, carrying the lean form of my sister. Caitlin flashes a quick smile at me as she darts past, a bow tucked under one arm and a sword strapped to her back. Her bright auburn hair flicks up and down in a cloud of thin braids behind her.

A great horn bellows in the forest nearby and we both turn our horses sharply in its direction, their legs prancing. The shouts of men and women calling to each other follows.

The hunt has begun.

Electricity runs through my veins as I scan the hills above the narrow, craggy valley I pause in. Horses barrel past us, through the trees of the rise, their riders threatening to take our prize. I grit my teeth and will my mare forward.

We cannot lose to Gwyneth. I could handle the taunts that would go on for weeks, but Caitlin? Her prickly pride would not allow it. My sister spurs to action, galloping her mount up the slope in quick bounds. A light spray of mud splatters my face as I follow close behind and I wipe it away with the back of a hand. The air is rich with its earthy scent, combined with bruised pine leaves.

My mare struggles with her footing up the incline, sliding after each jolt forward. I crest the rise to a natural clearing, and the forms of the Protector Guard ahead of us are silhouettes to the west, falling into the tree line again.

A second horn bellows, the call long and low.

There are two packs of low fae to hunt? Far too many have crept through the gaps in the barriers between realms to threaten our lands.

“Keira. To the west,” Caitlin snaps, then looks over my shoulder with disgust. “This is going to be a glorious hunt, if our guards can keep up.”

I glance back at the men riding on our heels, in their emerald quilted surcoats sown in with iron discs and bronze leather pants, with the emblem of our house embroidered on the left breast. Caitlin wears the same uniform.

“They weren’t raised in these woods like us.” When I turn back my sister is already speeding away, a lone figure darting across the opening.

She is too headstrong and reckless. There is danger in being caught in the woods alone. Especially during a hunt. We don’t know which kind of fae are trespassing on our lands. It could be any kind of monstrosity. Fae do not belong here. This realm is for humans alone.

I take off at a full gallop, fighting to keep up. The blood crashes through me, and every muscle is taut with anticipation. My gaze flicks around, scanning for threats. For the beasts unfortunate enough to be our prey.

The nearby horn bellows again, three short blasts indicating the number of fae spotted here. The forms of the trackers and their small, spotted foxhounds are visible just beyond the trees, as they chase our query, rounding it up, then skirting away, staying at a safe distance.

I grab an iron-tipped ash arrow from the quiver at my back, and notch it to my bow, squeezing my mount with my thighs and hardly slowing its pace. The creatures of the Otherworld release a high-pitched, hairsplitting howl, both vicious and sorrowful.

Goosebumps raise on my arms and my stomach turns with the fear that is inevitable before the fight. Our party slows marginally as we crash into the thicket, scanning between the wide, lichen-covered trunks of trees hundreds of years old.

A Cú Sídhe stalks through the forest. Time slows. It almost stops. The fae hound is as large as a horse and the bony cavities of its eye sockets stare back at me with ethereal green lights. Its entire skull is nothing but exposed bone, housing sharp teeth the length of a finger.

The creature's body is covered in thick, furry moss, intertwined with prickly branches and twigs, and its feet are exposed bone. It snarls and bites the air.

Potent relief cascades through me. My prey is a monster indeed. It could have been a brownie, or a nymph, or any less sinister fae to unwittingly step into my realm. A creature that would beg for mercy, and I would have to kill it anyway, despite how my heart broke.

The beast gallops toward me, its powerful legs leaping over fallen trees and rocks.

I stand in my stirrups as my horse races in an arc around the beast. Twisting my body to the side, I knock an arrow in the bow, breathe in, breathe out, and let it fly. It cuts through the air, and I weave threads of magic around the whistling shaft, directing its path and pushing force into it to create an even deadlier missile.

The Cú Sídhe lunges into the air, completely unaware of its doom. The leafy strands of its pelt flutter like a majestic mane. It bounces off a fallen log, using the hurdle to lunge higher in the air.

My magic pulls the arrow into its new trajectory, piercing the creature through its gaping maul.

I weave a dozen more strands of air into that arrow shaft as it collides with the beast, throwing the entirety of its bulk backward. The magic radiates out from the initial point of contact with thestrength of a typhoon, breaking its bones and crushing the fae from within.

I could shatter it into a thousand pulpy pieces, but we need the body.

The Cú Sídhe curls in on itself and its spine hits the broad trunk of a tree with a sickening crunch, then falls to the ground in a limp heap.

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