Page 2 of Masked Fate

CHAPTER ONE

Pandora

“Rave, put your clothes back on!” Astrid calls out, then turns to me and lowers her voice. “Does he need to put on a show for all the females every damn time?”

“I love watching you command the King of Shadows.” I smirk at Queen Astrid. “It never gets old.”

“Someone needs to keep him on his toes.” She grins, playfully nudging me with her shoulder.

“Who knew you would be the jealous, possessive type? I thought that was all Rave,” I tease.

“Look at his body, though.” She sighs softly, her hazel eyes eating up her mate.

She’s not wrong, not that I see him that way, but the Fae King has muscles for days.

The male in question picks up his tunic off the grass and slides it back on as the next two fighters get in the ring.

Yeah, he’s pussy-whipped. Astrid could tell him to destroy the entire world, and he’d do it with a sadistic grin.

Rave has a side that is pure darkness, and only Astrid can control him.

Fates help the kingdom if anything ever happens to her.

Rave has been my friend since childhood, and his fated mate has quickly become one of my closest friends. In fact, she knows my biggest secret and has somehow kept it to herself. Astrid is a seer and healer and is incredibly powerful. But her loyalty is what makes her worth her weight in gold. After not being around many females I can trust, Astrid is a breath of fresh air.

I spend a lot of time here with them in Aravelle, the Fae Kingdom, even though I am the Witch Queen and have my ownkingdom, Allyria, to rule over.

If I’m being honest, I like it better here.

It’s my escape.

Andheis here.

I know, I must be a masochist.

“Have you been working on your seer magic?” I ask her, knowing she’s been focused on expanding her gift and learning how to control it. Her father, Zython, betrayed her when he planned to give her up to Declan, an incubus warlord, to pay off a debt. Neither has been dealt with, and I know we likely have another upcoming war on our hands.

“Yes, I still can’t see the past, but I’m much better at controlling what I want to see,” she replies, tapping her fingers on the arm of her leather couch. “Basically, I’m more than just a matchmaker now.”

Astrid seems to get lots of visions of people’s fated mates. Many would give anything for that information, but I guess it doesn’t help much in battle.

It also doesn’t help me because I’ve known for some time now who my mate is.

Soren.

Rave’s best friend and right-hand man. He’s known for being a strong fighter, the best tracker in all eight kingdoms, and for fucking anything that walks.

He’s a hit-it-and-quit-it male known for only sleeping with females once.

Soren has made a lifestyle out of one-night stands.

No one has had a repeat.

Of course, my mate had to be a witch-hating fuckboy with commitment issues.

And that’s why I masked him from discovering the cold, hard truth—that the witch he can barely look at is actually his fated mate. Sometimes I question if I’m doing the right thing, but atthe end of the day, Soren hates witches, and after everything he’s been through, I can understand why.

But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

---