Heiress of Light: Magic Reborn (Reverse Harem) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Heiress of Light

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Heiress of Darkness

  About the Author

  Also by Ashlyn Allbrook

  Heiress of Light

  Magic Reborn #1

  Ashlyn Allbrook

  Copyright © 2017 by Ashlyn Allbrook

  Cover art - Barbara Florczyk

  Model: Miranda Hedman

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Heiress of Light

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Heiress of Darkness

  About the Author

  Also by Ashlyn Allbrook

  Heiress of Light

  Magic Reborn #1

  Born into a dying kingdom, Princess Elena of Garius is certain her intelligence and compassion would make her a better ruler than Prince Leonardo, the man her father insists she marry to rule in her stead… a man rumored to have a cruel streak as deep as his father’s pockets.

  As Elena tries to find a way to protect herself and her kingdom, she learns she is the key to the rebirth of magic into the Kingdom of Light. And her five guards have been preordained to help her—with the touch of their bodies to hers.

  Magic has been dead so long that most people believe it’s a myth. But there’s no denying the ache in Elena’s chest or the feelings that consume her whenever her guards are near. Wicked feelings no princess should feel for one man, let alone five.

  The cure for this strange madness is days away. And while her guards have sworn to protect her—even to their deaths—Prince Leonardo isn’t so quick to let her go. Not when he believes Elena is the mother of magic.

  And he wants to claim her as his own.

  1

  “My word is final!” my father shouted, his words echoing off the stone walls of his private chamber.

  “I really don’t have a say in this? Don’t you care at all about how I feel?” I knew I was wasting my breath. My father never cared how I felt, but I refused to give in to tears. They never moved him. My father was made of stone.

  “Feelings have nothing to do with marriage, Elena. And neither does love.”

  It was obvious from watching my parents that love had never factored into their relationship. The purpose of their marriage had been to strengthen political alliances and to add land to the kingdom of Garius. Their parents had arranged their marriage just like my father was trying to do for me now. But my grandmother—my mother’s mother—she and my grandfather were a different story.

  “Grandmamma married for love.”

  “Your mother’s mother is foolhardy.” He thumped his hand down on the desk. “Has she been putting foolish ideas into your head?”

  My grandmother had told me many things over my eighteen years of life, but I couldn’t think of a single thing that would qualify as foolish. “No.”

  He looked surprised by my answer but shook it off as he sat down at his desk and started sifting through papers. “You’re eighteen years old, Elena. It’s time to grow up. We all have our roles, our purpose in life. Yours is to strengthen your kingdom through marriage.” He must have taken my silence as a sign that I was beginning to see reason because he let it drop. “The guards are reporting trouble at the eastern borders. The corsairs are growing bolder, attacking villages at night. And then there are reports of dracnas to the south.”

  That caught my attention. “Dracnas? Dracnas are a myth. No one has even claimed to see one in over a century.”

  While corsairs were known to reside at the border, they’d always stuck to the forests. The eight-foot-long catlike creatures had always avoided human contact. Or at least they used to until recently. As for dracnas . . . they were the stuff of stories parents told their children to scare them into behaving. According to legend, they were nearly twenty feet tall and breathed fire.

  My father picked up a quill pen and scrawled his name across the bottom of a parchment document. “Dracnas are very real. A mated pair killed two of our men and severely burned three more.”

  “A mated pair?” I asked with interest, stepping closer. “Are you sure?”

  My father looked up at me in exasperation. “The dracnas are not your concern. That is for me and Leonardo, your soon-to-be husband, to worry about.”

  “Father. I am educated—despite your insistence that I didn’t need an education. I have a brain. A good one. Perhaps if you’d listen to me, you would realize I have ideas to help the kingdom—ways to bring water to the crops and to help stop the illnesses that spread through the village—”

  His cold eyes pierced mine. “These things do not concern you, Elena.”

  “Don’t concern me? This is my kingdom, Father. My people too! Prince Leonardo won’t give a damn about our people! All he cares about is stripping our resources to help his own kingdom!”

  My father slammed his fist on his desk with a thump that filled the room. “Language, Elena! You are the daughter of the King of Garius. You will not talk like a common peasant.”

  I jumped despite myself. I’d pushed him too far.

  “I have made my decision!” His voice boomed. “You will marry the Prince of Hulon in two weeks, and that is final.” Despite the strength of his words, he didn’t look happy about his decree. We’d been closer when I was younger, and he used to forgive me for being headstrong.

  I could waste my time arguing with him, or I could find a more productive way to fight his decree. Too bad I had no idea where to start.

  I turned to leave, but my father said, “Elena. Your betrothed . . . he expects a less outspoken bride.”

  I spun back to face him. “You mean he expects me to be meek. Though he learned during his visit a few months ago that that particular trait doesn’t suit me.”

  His face softened and worry filled his eyes. “Yet he wishes to marry you anyway, Elena. And he will see that you are meek.”

  “And yet there’s not a meek bone in my body. Cancel the wedding, Father!”

  What little sympathy he’d shown me evaporated. His shoulders stiffened. “There is no cancelling the wedding. Prince Leonardo is eager to wed you, and our coffers need the union.”

  “Then there’s nothing left to say, is there?” I asked in disgust.

  “No. Leave me while I try to find a way to make you less disagreeable to your new husband.” He sounded angry again.

  “Good luck with that! You’d be more likely to change a leopard’s spo
ts.”

  I stormed out of his room. Christa, my lady-in-waiting and best friend, was standing outside the door with a look on her face that suggested she’d heard enough to know I’d been unsuccessful. At least she didn’t ask. I couldn’t talk about it right now, or I might burst into tears.

  In any other situation, I would have run to my mother. She was often my ally during my disagreements with my father, but I knew she’d be no help now. She was excited to be planning a wedding, especially after the past few years of disease and famine in our land. She was eager to have something to celebrate and was frustrated I wasn’t the tiniest bit happy too. But I couldn’t see pouring so much money into a celebration when there was nothing to celebrate, and it was money that could be used to help the less fortunate people in our kingdom.

  Only the day before, she’d gotten angry when I’d refused to help go over the music selection. She’d shaken her head in disapproval. “You are so lucky, Elena. Prince Leonardo is a fine-looking man. Your father could have picked Prince Edgar in Redea.”

  “He’s forty-two years old!” I’d protested.

  “Yet he’s looking for a bride. And I know he promised a great many things to your father for your hand. More than Leonardo offered.”

  That surprised me. “But didn’t you think there was something . . . off with Prince Leonardo?” I’d asked. “Both times I talked to him, it was like he was . . . looking for something.”

  “You mean determining if you were suitable?”

  “No. It was like he expected me to do or say something.”

  “That makes no sense, Elena.”

  And yet it was true.

  “Prince Leonardo is a good ruler, and handsome one at that. He will be a good husband. Besides, it’s settled, so you have no choice but to make the best of it.”

  Make the best of it, my eye.

  Whether he would be a good husband or not was debatable, but his good looks definitely didn’t make him a good ruler. From my limited time in his company, I’d already surmised he was arrogant and conceited. How was I going to get out of this?

  Christa tried to steer me down the hall to the east wing. “Your mother is expecting you in the conservatory. She needs you to help her with the wedding plans, Ellie.”

  Christa was normally soft-spoken, a good quality in a handmaiden, but she whispered my name. She may have been my best friend, but she was also my servant, which meant she was supposed to call me Your Royal Highness or Princess Elena. We weren’t supposed to be on a first-name basis, let alone using my nickname.

  I stared down the hall toward my mother’s wing of the castle. I’d already known that she was expecting me. In fact, I was already a quarter of an hour late, yet I couldn’t bring myself to go. The castle felt suffocating. The walls were too tight. “If I join my mother in the conservatory to look at floral arrangements, I’ll lose my mind.”

  She pulled me to a halt—her eyelid was twitching, giving away her anxiety. “What do you plan to do?”

  I held her gaze. “Go into the village.”

  Her eyes widened with fear. “You know your father doesn’t want you going there anymore.”

  I shot her a look. “He can’t keep me from doing everything I love.”

  She cringed. “Actually, he can. He’s the king.” My friend leaned in closer. “Your mother is counting on you, Ellie. She’s thrown herself into a tizzy getting ready for this wedding.”

  “She’s wasting her time,” I said, heading for the hallway that led to the kitchens. “There won’t be any wedding.”

  “Ellie!” Christa called after me as I hurried into the kitchen.

  Mrs. Putney, the royal baker, was bent over the kneading table, working a mound of dough large enough to make several loaves of bread. Her wrinkled face lifted, and her eyes lit up when she saw me. “Princess Elena. Getting ready to make your rounds? You missed yesterday.”

  She had doted on me my entire life, and unlike my father, she was supportive of my activities in the town.

  I grimaced. “My mother kept me busy with wedding nonsense.”

  She chuckled and turned her attention back to her dough. “Weddings don’t just come about on their own.”

  “In this instance, they needn’t come about at all.”

  Her gaze met mine, and her eyes softened. “It’s not the end of the world, little one. You could do much worse than Prince Leonardo. Your father could have arranged a marriage like your grandmother’s to King Perseus.”

  I shivered. I’d barely known my paternal grandfather, but what little I remembered convinced me that her words were true. “Why do I have to marry at all?” I asked. “I know our people and this land. The people in our kingdom are nothing like the people in Leonardo’s kingdom. He has no idea what our people need.”

  “There’s more to running a kingdom than knowing the subjects,” Christa said behind her.

  I whipped around to face her. “Agreed. Intelligence is needed, and after my conversations with Prince Leonardo, I found his severely lacking. In fact, I have to wonder if his nanny dropped him on his head.”

  “Elena . . .” Christa sighed, but Mrs. Putney was trying to keep from bursting into laughter.

  “And let’s not forget the tantrum he threw over the rug in his room.”

  “He’d brought his own,” Christa said.

  “Who brings their own rug?” I demanded. “Seriously? Only spoiled twits.”

  Neither of them answered, and two of the girls helping the baker ran off to the storeroom, ducking their heads.

  I lifted my chin, determined to make them see my point. “A ruler needs intelligence, compassion, and a level head. All of which Prince Leonardo seems to lack.”

  Mrs. Putney glanced back up at me with sad eyes. “That may all be well and true, but you’ll be marrying him nonetheless.”

  “She’s right, Ellie,” Christa said softly, resting a hand on my arm. “Maybe you should just accept it and find a way to make it work.”

  No. I would do no such thing, but I could see no way to get out of it either. If my father suspected that I wouldn’t fall in line, he would lock me in my room until the wedding, then drug me to make sure I was good and compliant for the service. He’d been negotiating this business deal for more years than I’d realized. He couldn’t afford to see it destroyed now.

  Mrs. Putney wiped her hands on her apron and walked around the table to face me. “You want impossible things, little one.”

  Impossible. My dreams told me differently. For years I’d had vague images I’d never understood, but since my eighteenth birthday, they’d become increasingly clearer. These dreams promised me more than the life my father offered, more than I understood. But they were only dreams, because they offered me men I wasn’t destined to have along with a kingdom I wasn’t meant to rule. And that made my blood boil.

  “Things I cannot have?” I asked in a disgusted tone. “You mean like a penis?”

  Mrs. Putney gasped. “Your Royal Highness!”

  “Princess Elena!” Christa scolded.

  “What?” I demanded. “It’s an anatomical part of a man, no different than an arm or leg. Why can we not say it aloud?”

  Christa’s eyes widened in fear. “They’re the same size?”

  “Christa,” I said. “You’ve seen plenty of animal penises to know they are not equally proportionate to their limbs. Why would human men be any different?”

  “Princess Elena!” Mrs. Putney exclaimed, clearly agitated. “You’re a virgin. You cannot speak of such things and sully your good name.”

  “Apparently my good name is all I have,” I murmured, shaking my head. “Or should I say my title? That and a kingdom that shall never be mine but instead forfeited to some half-wit toddler who probably has a very small penis hanging between his legs.”

  Mrs. Putney looked like she was about to have a stroke. Why was I taking this out on her?

  I walked over to her and kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset
you.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “You can’t say such things, my girl. Your new husband will flog you . . . or worse.”

  My head jutted back. “Flog me? You can’t be serious. I will be queen.”

  She continued to stare at me. “The Queen Mother . . .”

  My eyes widened. “My grandfather had her flogged?”

  “She was so very much like you, Princess. His Majesty tried to have her defiance beaten out of her, and I worry that Prince Leonardo will do the same.” I continued to stare at her in disbelief, and she cupped my cheek with her floury hand. “You have two weeks, Elena, two weeks to get over your protests; then you must accept your fate and make the best of it.”

  Her seriousness sank in. She never called me by my given name without a “princess” in front of it. “And if I chose not to . . . make the best of it?”

  Her chin trembled. “Then I will have the poultices ready. We will do our best to make sure your suffering is eased as much as possible.” She pulled me into a quick hug—something she hadn’t done since I was a small girl—then just as quickly released me. “Your baskets are in the back in the usual spot. Yesterday’s baskets are still there. The bread’s a little stale but still good for dipping in stew.”

  I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Thank you. For everything, Mrs. Putney.”

  A blush rose to her cheeks, and she gave me a curt nod. “You’re a good girl, Princess Ellie. So pay no mind if you hear people’s tongues wagging today.”

  That stopped me in my tracks. “What are people saying?”

  An oh crap look filled her eyes. Then she tried to wave it off. Literally. “Nothing.”

  She moved back to her dough and resumed her kneading.