Captive to the King

Captive to the King

Adison Anderson · Completed · 111.1k Words

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Introduction

"I swallow hard to brace myself, eyes flickering over his massive form, “Tell me, Commander Lothbrook,” I say stiffly, “What reason can you possibly have for stealing me from my home and chaining me to your wall?” His lips tip up in that vicious-looking grin again, fangs flashing in the low light... "

"The night of the Summer Solstice ball is the night he kidnaps me the first time…

Twenty-year-old Lily Montegard, Princess of the Seelie Fae, was supposed to be living a quiet life hidden away from the rest of her court. But the night of the summer solstice is the night that her life irrevocably changes.

When the ruthless and powerful King of the Shifters that roam the Northern Mountains mistakes her for the heir to the throne, Lily is kidnapped from her home to be held for ransom. But when you’re smaller than the other fae and fabled throughout the Seelie court as being “cursed” for being born with fragile health and without magic, that weakness could be a death sentence among the Shifters.

With every day that passes, secrets unfold about the shifters that show that not everything is as it seems. Especially when it comes to their King, who Lily’s attraction to becomes harder and harder to fight."

Chapter 1

The night of the Summer Solstice ball is the night he kidnaps me for the first time…

There’s a wild, unbound spark in the air tonight. The summer palace ballroom is overflowing with Seelie courtiers. Lithe, beautiful bodies decked out in blinding shades of every imaginable color fill out every spare inch of the room. Something about it makes me restless tonight-- makes me want to be anywhere but this back corner of the ballroom where I've been sequestered by my father, King Tarquin. Even being out of the way the way that I am doesn't help me avoid the barely-suppressed sneers of the courtiers aim at me-- the Cursed and magic-less daughter of the Seelie Court. I'm usually good at ignoring them and brushing them off. But for some reason, tonight, it all feels too much for me to bear.

Which is why I make my escape at the first opportunity I see.

When I notice that Petra’s back is turned my way—thoroughly distracted with the flirtatious attentions of one of the palace’s guards—I recognize it for the opportunity it is. No one notices when I slip through the sparkling crowd—all too drunk on faerie wine to perceive anything but the glittering room or the lover offering attention in front of them.

I make my escape through the marble archway and into the rising night. Free from the confining walls of the ballroom, I feel like I can finally breathe again. Out on the adjoining balcony, the night air cools my heated skin, a crisp breeze kissing every inch of exposed skin. I greedily breathe in the sweet perfume of wildflowers from the gardens below mixed with the scent of freshly cut grass.

I only let myself rest for a moment. I need to hurry if I’m going to make it out of here before Petra or Lucia discovers I’m gone. After quickly catching my breath, and leaning heavily on the low parapet walls, I force myself to keep moving. I disappear into the hidden adjoining stairway off the balcony that will spit me out into the gardens below.

The stars sparking in the heavens are shining at their fullest and make it easy to see where to step as I feel my way down. I force myself to pick up my pace, leaning heavily against the marble walls to keep myself from losing my balance as I curve around the spiral staircase. I breathe out a sigh of relief when my silken slippers crunch down against the rough gravel of the garden path.

I did it. I actually did it.

A wave of elation comes over me, electrifying my veins. Looking up into the gleaming night a smile breaks over my face. It has been so long since I’ve been alone—really, truly alone—I can barely believe I actually pulled it off. A tiny, breathless, laugh of exhilaration bursts from me and I grin even as my weakening body fights to stay upright.

That euphoric feeling gives me the final push I need to make it to the bench—one slow step in front of the other. I collapse onto a stone bench—the one closest to the palace’s steps. Breathing out a sigh of relief, I lower myself onto the blessedly cool stone with shaky arms. Beads of sweat prickle at my hairline, and my overly heavy ballgown puffs around my legs in an explosion of pale pink taffeta and lace.

Petra and Lucia had decided on the gown I wore this evening. And while I’m grateful to them for wanting to help, it’s not something I would have picked for myself. The cut of it is beautiful and the style of it mirrors the height of the court’s fashion right now—similar to the cut of Lucia’s gown tonight. But, the fabric is heavy. It’s an added strain when walking.

Not to mention that it's stiflingly hot.

If it had been up to me, I would have picked something light—something that let my skin breathe. I huff out a breath, and though my corset barely allows it, I manage to bend down far enough to lift the hem of my dress into my lap, allowing a trickle of cool breeze to shift through the dense fabric.

Much better.

The heat bubbling under my skin tells me that I pushed myself too hard, pushed my body to its limits in my hastily executed escape, but I can’t bring myself to care or worry. I lean back on my shaky arms and let the cool air wash over me, patiently for my ragged heartbeat to slow. The weather is beautiful tonight, a perfect night for a ball. Much of the party has spilled out onto the back balconies, some couples stand and dance, others stand off to the side, drinking bubbling beverages from crystal flutes, gossiping.

Being out here after dark is like stepping into another world entirely. The shadows create something entirely new out of something familiar. Night-blooming flowers overflow into the paths like a multicolored kaleidoscope. A few fireflies wink their yellow light near me before skittering away through the brush as I kick off my silken slippers, settling into the darkness.

The quiet doesn't last long, and I jolt at the sound of a low-keening whine emanating from directly behind my bench. My muscles coil as tightly as a bow string and my head whips around in search of the source of the noise. When my eyes land on a tiny creature nearly hidden among the flowers and shadows, my muscles ease but my stomach drops.

A few days ago, I’d heard the palace gardeners complaining about a group of rabbits making mess of the blooms they’d just planted, and their plans to set out traps for them. Those plans seem to have worked, because a tiny, trapped rabbit stares up at me with wide fearful eyes, and my heart twists for it.

Pulling myself up from my place on the bench, with bare feet, I pick my way on slow careful feet through the damp soil so I can lower myself into a crouch near the trapped animal. A pair of tiny black eyes gaze widely up at me, warily. Fear making the poor rabbit’s nose twitch furiously. Its small body flinches as I move my fingers toward its trapped foot.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” I promise, keeping my voice quiet so as not to frighten the poor animal any more than it already is. It squirms against the looping rope attached to its hind leg for a moment, then calms, its little nose twitching wildly as I bring my fingers to the knotted rope.

As I work, music and laughter from the ballroom seep down from the open doors, adding to the other nighttime noises. Shadows of dancing couples drift through the glowing strips of light from the balcony above us. The sight sends a familiar wistful pang slicing through the center of my chest. Watching the beautiful courtiers moving so fluidly around the ballroom always manages to leave an ache in my chest. I can’t think of anything more amazing than being able to join in on something like that. To be able to be a part of something so mesmerizing, so beautiful.

With my illness, though, dancing is out of the question. Some days, I can’t even walk unassisted. The fevers tend to wrack their way through my body unannounced. I never know what exactly will set them off, which is the main reason why I’m not supposed to be moving around the palace unaccompanied.

“You’re going to be alright, I promise,” I whisper down to the tiny creature, “I understand what it’s like to feel trapped,” I confess quietly. The last thing I need is for someone to overhear “crazy Princess Lily” talking to an animal in the dark and add fuel to the fire.

My lips tip in a grin as I pull the last of the knots free, “There you go, all finished. But, between you and me, you'd be better off finding a different place to make your home. The gardeners mean business this year and if they catch you again, they won’t let you go. Oh, and if you happen to run into the gardeners, please don’t tell them I’m the one who released you,” I joke softly.

I’m so distracted watching the rabbit prance happily away through the night blooming flowers, that I don’t hear the footsteps prowling up behind me until it’s too late. I don’t sense the person sneaking up behind me until a hand already snakes around my head and presses a rough cloth beneath my nose, covering my mouth.

The muffled scream in my ears is my own, but it doesn’t last longer than a second, the sound softer than the whispering of wings. A sickly sweet scent invades my nose, making my eyes water, and then everything goes dark.

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