CHAPTER ONE

Your feet will bring you to where your heart is. – Ancient Irish Proverb

“Mother!” 

Ashlynn’s chest rose and fell in uneven gasps as she stormed through the halls of the castle with barely fettered rage roiling in her belly, like acid that burned away the last of her honed focus and control. 

Her scream bounced off the thick stone, joining the sound of her leather boots slapping against the floor, and fell into sync with the throbbing pulse that coursed through her body, heating her blood. Tears pricked her eyes, threatening to fall, but she blinked furiously and kept them at bay, barely. She had to regain a bit of control, or she’d lose the battle before it even began.

Ashlynn clenched her hands into fists, tight enough to break the skin of her palms, in an effort to hold back her magick, which simmered just below the surface of her being. The small pain barely made a dent in her frantic thoughts.

People nervously cleared her line of sight as she strode forward, her gaze fixed on a specific destination. Even her sister, who waited faithfully just outside their mother’s room, reluctantly moved aside as Ashlynn forged her furious path.

“Sister, I beg of you, listen to reason,” Gwendolynn pleaded, with eyes as blue as the summer sky and shiny with worry. 

Ashlynn brushed past her younger sibling and sent the thick wooden door crashing open with a sharp flick of her wrist. Emerald and copper fire magick crackled over her skin as she searched the room for her target.

“Mother!” Ashlynn hissed again, catching sight of the object of her fury standing near the hearth with a pained look on her lovely face.

The Queen of the Crimson Court turned to face her firstborn daughter. She heaved a tired sigh that only served to piss Ashlynn off more and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Ashlynn, I do not want to hear of it.” Aoife turned and walked across the room, her long moss-green robes trailing behind her, the perfect image of a regal high priestess. 

The very sight of her mother’s perfection set Ashlynn’s teeth on edge.

“No, you will listen!” Ashlynn demanded, squeezing her fists so hard that fresh blood dripped from the crescent cuts in her palms. The pain acted like an anchor, forcing her to focus and reminding her that rulers didn’t throw fits in this manner. When she spoke again, desperation and hurt tinged her words, but she held more control. “How could you? How could Father?”

“It’s for the good of the people, Ashlynn,” Aoife said flatly, her expression remaining staid. “A true ruler makes sacrifices.”

Ashlynn exhaled, trying to find her balance. Her mind felt like the inside of a hive of honey bees, buzzing so loudly it was hard to think as she’d been taught to. She took a moment to breathe, drawing her power into her core, centering herself as much as humanly possible, then spoke. 

“I do not require a man to help me rule our people.” She tried to sound calm and rational even though her rage flourished inside, pulsing like a demon’s fire. No amount of deep breathing could erase the truth of this situation. “I am far more capable than any man or woman in the clan. You know it as true as I do.”

“Be that as it may,” Aoife replied, inclining her head, “your father and I must consider our people before your feelings, and if you were thinking with the heart of a ruler, which,” she arched a delicate eyebrow, “you should be, you would see the logic in this arrangement.”

“Arrangement?” Ashlynn shook her head, growing more desperate the longer they spoke. Part of her had hoped, prayed, that her mother would be against this decree. That her father had gotten it all wrong when he’d laid out her future in dry, flat words that had brokered no resistance. But now that she was here, Ashlynn knew better. She should have known better. This was as much her mother’s decree as her father’s.

She refrained from pressing her hand over her chest, which heaved against her heart, stifling her breath. She was the heir and firstborn daughter of the Crimson Court, the most powerful of the elemental High fae courts, fighting for her right to rule. She needed to be strong and make her point.

But, her mother was intractable, immovable, and logical. How could she fight against reason with passion? 

Strength and logic wouldn’t work. Ashlynn let her emotions seep into her voice. If she were to be a scapegoat, her family would know how much their betrayal was destroying her. 

“Let us call it for what it is, Mother,” she spit out the word. “I’m to be sold off like a piece of cattle to the Prince of the Amber Court so that you and our people,” she ground the words out between clenched teeth, “can continue the lives to which they’ve grown accustomed. You would sacrifice me to the savages and then demand me smile prettily as I am carted off into the wilderness. You ask too much.”

Aoife finished fussing with some table linens and handed the stack to one of the invisible servant girls that kept the castle running, shooing her out of the room before turning her attention back to her daughter. 

“Well,” she looked imperiously down her nose, “the savages are coming for dinner this evening, and you’re expected to be present.” She tipped her head to the side and gave Ashlynn a pained expression that pleaded for cooperation, the first indication of emotion she’d shown during their encounter. “I beg of you, be on your best behavior.”

“But Mothe –”

“Ashlynn,” Aoife bit out the word and turned away from her daughter. 

Ashlynn let her hands fall to her sides as if they weighed a hundred stone each and turned toward the door. She knew her mother was done, that the Queen would hear no more. Fury and fire carried her back out through the familiar corridors of the home that no longer felt welcoming. 

A voice inside reminded Ashlynn that there was just cause for this alliance, that her people really were depending on her to keep the peace and strengthen the elemental magicks that ran through their veins, but it was cut off by the wave of anguish and betrayal that colored everything in sorrow.

Ashlynn knew that there was no way she would let her parents send her off to an unknown land with unfamiliar magicks, leaving behind everything and everyone she knew and loved. She’d find another way to establish peace between the courts and strengthen the bloodlines.

She had to.

Check out Tethered Hearts, my co-written, witchy, time-travel romantasy with JJ King on Kickstarter right now where you can get a limited collector’s edition copy signed by both of us!