Teaching the King
Yeah. Good luck with that.
For centuries, Hogan witches were bound in a trumped-up contract to teach magic to the High King of the Fae. Then, a hundred years ago, we escaped that prison sentence and never looked back.
Now there’s a new king in town. Brutally gorgeous, mouthwateringly fierce—and seriously pissed.
He’s coming for me, and he won’t take no for an answer.
But I don’t care how much Mr. Tall, Dark, and Deadly makes my heart pound and head spin, a ridiculously unwanted side effect of that goddess-forsaken contract. I’ve dedicated my life to creating a safe haven for those in need—whether they’re rogue witches escaping their persecutors or monsters desperate for somewhere to hide. If I leave my tavern unprotected, every last soul I’ve helped will be hunted down, recaptured. Killed.
Not gonna happen.
So I’ll just have to find the contract that’s bound me to the most deviously sexy ruler across all the realms…and break it for good.
Before the High King of the Fae breaks me.
Teaching the King is a slow-burn Fae Kidnap rejected mate fantasy romance, and book 1 of 3 in the Witchling Academy series.
Note: This is a slow burn, New Adult paranormal academy romance, and book 2 of 4 in the Twyst Academy series.
Read an Excerpt
~ Aidan ~
Fortunately, I wouldn’t be staying long. To get what I needed, I only had to break past the witch’s wards. The Hogans had been renowned for their ability to pierce a Fae’s glamour, sure, but given it had been a hundred years since a Hogan had encountered a high Fae…she would be rusty.
Or so I’d thought. The young mage I’d ambushed outside the bar had been sufficiently dazed to convince a few good Samaritans I’d flicked to the side. I didn’t want or need the help of anyone but the witch who hid behind the door of the tavern called the White Crane.
Pushing the boy along ahead of me, I approached the witch’s holding with some trepidation. Powerful magic lay within this building, wards that made me grit my teeth with satisfaction. This was true magic—strong enough that I couldn’t enter her tavern directly from the Fae realm, but had to take this roundabout path. The ruby warmed in my pocket, sensing it was coming home, which tightened my nerves enough to make my senses sing.
The old stories in the archives had been largely silent on any physical relationship between the king and his witch, but the waves of power that had shot through me during the attack on the wraiths had been deeply intense, almost sensual. Ever since, I’d craved this unknown witch to a level I couldn’t quite understand.
Soon, I’d understand everything.
I whispered my instructions in the boy’s ears and pushed him forward, but it was my force of will that held him upright. And when the witch opened the door, sturdy and scowling, her dark hair laced with gray and her eyes sharp with distrust, I felt desire stir within me like a punch to the gut.
Invite him in, I urged her, silently but surely. Invite the boy in.
The boy began to shake, and I eased back as much as I could, but when the witch looked up, she saw me. Our gazes met, and in that breath, a tide of wanting thundered through me, filling me with blind urgency so intense, I almost groaned aloud. I barely held myself in check, but the witch stiffened anyway, pulling back. And with that move I felt the withdrawal of all the magic I hadn’t realized was stirring in my veins.
The wards behind her doubled, then tripled in intensity, and I spit out a silent curse. Backing off enough to leave the boy to his own devices, I watched her as wicked pleasure curled within me. She knew something was wrong, but she couldn’t leave the boy to rot on her doorstep, couldn’t ignore how my presence made her feel. How would she react when I stood before her, her scent filling the air between us, the warmth radiating from her skin, the fluttering of her heart…
Once again I’d gone too far.
The woman stepped back, scowling down at the young mage.
“We’re closed,” she announced.
“The hell you are.” I pushed the boy harder, and he lurched violently forward with a death-rattling groan, collapsing at her feet over the threshold of the tavern.
“Star and light,” the witch cursed, the boy’s distress apparently convincing her to help him. He’d live, and considering I could stop his heart with a thought, he should count himself lucky. Meanwhile, the witch dropped to her knees and hooked her hands underneath his armpits, hauling him into the bar with credible strength.
The moment my family ring crossed her threshold, she jolted. She peered down at her charge, then with a grunt, yanked the ring off the boy’s hand.
The second she did, it was my turn to stagger back, landing square on my ass as my entire body lit on fire. In one stuttering breath, I saw the Hogan witch as she truly was, never mind the powerful glamour that draped her or the glowering presence of the tavern behind her.
She was young, strong, fierce. With her lithe figure and mane of deep black hair, she practically vibrated with a siren song of power. Her cloud-gray eyes beckoned to me, her curved mouth promising delights I could only guess at. She was the stars over the high meadows at night, the avalanche of winter snow crashing down the mountains to become the streams that fed the lower realms in spring. There was healing magic within her, but it was not the gentle grace of the lesser Fae, with their soft hands and easy lilting tongue. No, this was storm and fire and brutal certainty.
I shuddered, hard, as desire swept through me, burning its trail straight to my groin. No wonder the Hogan witch had been chosen to teach the high Fae her magic. She might be human, but she was pure fire and possibility, as well.
She might be human, but she was mine.