Heir of Broken Fate (HOBF Book 1)

“How was it going into town?” I ask Hazel nervously.

Yesterday would have been the first time Hazel had gone into a town since isolating herself in her cabin after Luna passed. I can’t begin to imagine how she felt; I had anxiety just thinking about if she was okay or not.

Hazel bites her lower lip. “Honestly? It felt overwhelming at first, being around so many people after decades at the cabin.” She’s silent for a moment as we descend the stairs. “But it was good, I needed the push,” she says, a smile turning up the corner of her lips.

I breathe a sigh of relief. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

Hazel begins to tell me about everything she saw in the library. Apparently, it’s the second largest library in the Fae lands and was magnificent. High ceilings, beautiful architecture, art, and endless amounts of levels holding every type of book you could ever think of.

She looks around the hallway. “I snuck some romance books in also,” she whispers.

I throw my head back on a laugh. “When you’re finished with them, I want to have a read,” I whisper back, stepping into Knox’s study.

The room is ginormous for a study, housing a wooden desk in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the back garden. Two armchairs sit adjacent to the desk, multiple bookshelves cover the walls, and a small sitting area is nestled in the right-hand corner, in front of a fireplace.

Knox’s deep rumble fills the space. “What do you want to read?”

My cheeks heat thinking about the type of romance books Hazel has handed to me over the past few weeks. Picturing the beautiful wall around my mind, I snap my mental shield up. “Nothing that would interest you,” I say, lifting my chin.

I walk toward the seating area Knox is currently lounging in. Three two-seated leather sofas create a U-shaped arrangement. In the middle, the large black stainless steel table is filled with stacks of worn books.

I lift my brows. “You truly weren’t exaggerating with the number of books you found.”

Hazel plops down on the couch perpendicular to Knox, leaving me on the middle sofa. Taking a seat, I lean forward and take a pile of books, Knox and Hazel doing the same.

Hazel dumps the pile next to her before picking the top one up. “It’ll take us days to get through these. There’s several more at the library, but I didn’t want to take them all at once and raise suspicion. We’ll go through these and swap whatever we don’t need for new ones.”

“What exactly should we be looking for? These all contain dark magic,” I murmur.

I open the cover of the first book on my pile to see demonic creatures. More monsters, lovely.

“Anything to do with spell work, entrapment, and magic dissolving,” Knox answers, already reading a book from his stack beside him. His brows are pulled low in concentration as he leans back, crossing his muscular leg over his knee.

Sighing, I steel my stomach and begin.

I never knew there was a vast range of creatures when it came to magic. It feels as though it was just yesterday that I was sitting in my room with Easton reading about Fae, mermaids, and dragons. These creatures, however, are on a different level, from a different world.

Beasts with predatory senses, that kill Fae for sport, their black as night color allowing them to camouflage. Siphons, magic eaters, soul eaters. The more I read, the more I begin to feel ill. Each page holds the description of a demonic creature, explaining in graphic detail how they prefer to hunt, kill, or torture their prey.

Phookas come from a race of demonic goblins, with the body of a man and the head of a goat. Its long, curved antlers and white milky eyes are the definition of nightmares. A phookas’s specialty is manipulation and deception, taking on different forms of animals to lure humans and Faes before turning into its true form and eating their entire body.

I turn the page, absolutely disgusted by the next two demonic creatures written.

Skinwalkers, another creature that hunts through manipulation. Skinwalkers have the ability to take on any form—human, Fae, animal—luring their victims through cries and pleas for help. As their prey gets close they capture their targets, skinning them alive to wear their skin.

I shudder, feeling my lunch start to rise.

The next page informs me that Wendigos were once Fae that transformed into a demonic creature after becoming a cannibal. I snap the book shut. Swallowing the bile that burns my throat, I take slow, deep breaths through my nose.

“Are you okay?” Hazel asks.

I hold up the closed book in my hand, not opening my eyes until the nausea subsides. “Demonic creatures, more graphic than the book in your cabin,” I say as an explanation.

I open my eyes in time to see Hazel shudder.

I set the book down and pick up another, planning to come back to the demonic creatures when I have no food in my stomach.

Knox’s voice surrounds me, calming the churning in my gut. “There used to be several libraries in the mountains of the Fae lands. The priestesses and keepers believed the sacred mountains would protect the history stored in the books.” He places his book on the coffee table, leaning his elbows on his knees. “They’ve been closed for over a century, being as it took too long to reach and was utterly inconvenient.”

Hazel sets the book she’s reading in her lap, sitting forward. “You think they’ve hidden the dark magic books in the old libraries?”

Knox dips his chin. “The libraries are completely abandoned. No one goes near them anymore. What better place to hide something than in plain sight?”

“That seems too easy,” I cut in.

Knox turns his head to me, his sapphire eyes searing mine. “It would most likely be veiled.” He juts his chin to my chest, a smirk playing on his lips, making his dimple pop out. “Luckily, we know someone who possesses an unveiling pendant.”

“It’s worth a shot. So far there’s no mention of black magic entrapment spells or where they could have possibly hidden such a thing,” Hazel chimes in.

“Okay, Knox and I will go tomorrow,” I declare.

Hazel’s lips twitch as she tries to hold in a laugh while Knox’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline.

I raise my own brows. “What?”

“Nothing,” they both mutter under their breath before going back to reading their books. After several moments, I can’t hold in my curiosity any longer.

“Priestesses?” I haven’t read anything about priestesses.

Knox’s gaze lifts to mine. “Yes.”

When he doesn’t continue, I gape at him. “That’s it? Just a yes? Where’s my history lesson?”

Hazel and Knox burst into a fit of laughter.

“Would you like a history lesson on the priestesses, Delilah?” Knox teases.

I tamp down my irritation. “Yes,” I state flatly.

Hazel’s shoulders shake on a silent laugh as she returns to her book.

“The priestesses have no elemental power. They believe in a higher being that connects all types of life forces, and worship it with the cycles of the moon. They conduct all their spiritual rituals in the Fae lands such as mating ceremonies, sermons, rituals, and court celebrations. They’re also trusted with knowledge and wisdom, so they run the libraries.”

I frown. “Why can’t we ask a priestess about all of this?” I ask, waving my hand to the piles of demon and dark magic books littering Knox’s study.

Knox shakes his head. “They serve to protect the Fae lands. They would turn us over to the queen if they knew we were inquiring about such things.”

With my curiosity answered, I turn back to my pile of books. “Thank you,” I mutter.

As I wait for Knox to arrive for our afternoon magic lessons, I trail through the back garden, trying to conjure water once more. Since dousing Knox in a wave yesterday I haven’t been able to tap into it.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes, muttering to myself about imagination. I picture a lake within me—calm, steady, and full of water. I kneel before it, cupping my palms together to take a small handful of water, letting it flow between my fingers. I imagine it flowing into a beautiful delicate rose and will the magic within me to listen, to move with me. To become one with me.

Opening my eyes, I jump with joy as the bubble of water in my palm forms into a rose. Turning to check that no one can see me, I resume creating more shapes. Within a split second, I have the rose in front of me blossoming into a sunflower, then a butterfly, and finally a blade. I burst out giggling as I make it fly around the garden as if a ghost is running with a knife.

Letting the water knife disappear, I start to wonder if I can do the same with fire, but instead of a knife, an arrow. With Knox and I soon traveling into the mountains to search for the abandoned library, flying fire arrows would be useful if we encounter any demonic creatures. A slithering shudder runs through my body as skinwalkers and wendigos come to mind. I need to master fire arrows.

Walking deeper into the garden, where no trees or flowers could catch on fire, I imagine an array of fire arrows in a satchel. Then focusing on the area before me, I build a bullseye target out of water.

Willing my senses to open further, I focus my eyes on the bullseye.

Once again making the magic link with my mind as one, I watch in awe as a fire arrow whizzes past my head, flying in a deadly straight precision for the target. I whoop and leap with joy as it hits the water, the fire arrow sizzling in the target’s center.

Magic truly is limited only by imagination.

Leaves crunch behind me as Knox’s husky drawl makes me jump.

“Don’t forget energy and iron.”

I place a hand over my heart. “Were you an assassin in your past life? My gods, you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

Knox bites back a smile. “An assassin?”

I roll my eyes, ignoring him. “What do you mean magic is limited by energy and iron?”

Knox releases his hands from his pockets. He strolls toward me, every movement screaming power and grace.

“Everyone’s power has a limit. The amount of magic you possess determines how powerful you are.” He stops in front of me. “You need to figure out the depth of your power to know how much of it to use or reserve. Magic will do you no good if you let it out all at once.”

Knox’s eyes search mine as they sparkle in the afternoon light. “When you use magic, it uses a lot of your energy, meaning you need to eat and sleep to replenish it.”

I quirk a brow. “Like hibernating?”

Knox bites the inside of his cheek. “How much magic you have depends on how long it takes to replenish. If I used all my power in, say, a day, it would take me three or four to fully be replenished.”

My eyes widen. “You have that much power?”

Knox’s smirk is my only response.

Cocky bastard.

His eyes spark with delight.

“Get out of my head,” I growl.

His grin is purely wicked. “Make me.”

I slam my mental shield down, half hoping it squishes whatever part of him that’s in there.

“What about iron?”

Knox shrugs. “What about it?”

“Don’t be coy; you said magic is limited by iron. How?”

“Everything Mother Earth creates must have a weakness, and the Faes’ is iron. Making our magic entirely useless if shackled.”

I cock my head. “It only takes iron to make a Fae’s magic disappear?”

Knox’s lips flatten into a tight line as he dips his chin.

“When are we leaving for the library?” I ask, changing the topic.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“Tonight,” he answers smoothly.

“Okay, and what are we working on today?”

A water arrow flies into my protection shield before slowly trickling down the invisible force.

“You have to do better than that,” I say with a grin.

Knox chuckles darkly. “You’ve been working on your shield.”

I make a fire arrow appear beside his head and smirk. “Amongst other things.”