Tempting the King
What’s the only thing worse than fighting the king of the Fae?
Pushing him too far.
I taught witchling magic to the High King of the Fae. I helped him defend his realm. And then in the fullness of his generosity, he set me free. Great story, right?
Only, like most things when it comes to the Fae, ditching a contract with these guys isn’t so easy.
Turns out the magic that binds me to the deeply sensual, fiercely proud, ridiculously hot High King is far more twisted than I realized. I’ve been marked for death…or something way worse.
Now I’m on the run, my home destroyed, being chased through a realm of myth and monsters by more enemies than I ever thought possible. To break free of this screwed-up Fae contract for good, I’ll have to unravel a scheme three hundred years in the making and convince the king—who’s been tricked into falling in love with me—that he’s been played for a fool.
This should go well.
Tempting the King is a slow-burn rejected mate Fae kidnap fantasy romance, and book 2 of 3 in the Witchling Academy series.
Read an Excerpt
~ BELLE ~
Fire was everywhere. Racing over the carefully polished tabletops, snaking down the gleaming bar, dancing hungrily toward the rows of bottles and shiny taps that held full kegs of beer. It wasn’t the first time a Hogan residence would burn, its timbers charring to blackened husks, glass exploding…but it might well be the last.
I threw my arm over my mouth, struggling to breathe. This sucked.
The magic of the White Crane Tavern ran so deep that every crack and crevice hissed under the spectral fire. The bar had endured several small kitchen fires over the years, and more than its share of drunken brawls. But this blaze took me all the way back to when I was very small, with the shocking sight of the smoldering husk of my great-grandmother’s cabin, little more than smoking ruins by the time the elder coven had finished with it. Those memories flashed vividly through me, and—
Wait a minute. That couldn’t be right. We’d sold my great-grandmother’s cabin—right? We’d used the money from that sale to fund the tavern renovations…
I shook my head hard, trying to focus. My memories weren’t cooperating—probably due to all the smoke inhalation—but either way, I couldn’t stick around to figure out the truth now. After a lifetime of hiding, I’d been discovered by the coven of the White Mountains, and they’d come to claim their prize.
“Stop!” Deanna Mackleway’s voice commanded.
I paid no attention. With her bouncing red curls and dancing green eyes, that imperious bitch of a witch had planted herself in the middle of the White Crane and tossed her hair, whining to me about the obligations and rules my family was bound to follow. Now she wielded her ring-heavy hands like the weapons they were, magic crackling from her fingertips, trying to pin me down as I darted toward the bar.
Fortunately, Hogan witches knew how to run.