Legacy: The Return of the Elves, Book 10 (PAPERBACK)

Books are printed and shipped by BookVault. Print time is usually 72 working hours. After books are printed, they are shipped.

Average shipping time is 7-14 business days.

There is no return for change of mind. Returns are given for faulty items if you contact us within 7 days of receiving item (according to the tracking).

For refund queries, please email bethanyadams@bethanyadamsbooks.com within 7 days of receiving your product (according to the tracking).

• Found family
• Fated mates
• Different worlds
• Accidental pregnancy
• Tortured hero
• Enemies to lovers
• Second chance romance
• Friends to lovers
• Polyamory (MFF – one book only)
• Unrequited love
• Anti-hero
• Single parents
• Twisted mate bonds
• Mental health struggles
• Recovering from loss
• Finding one’s place
• Star-crossed lovers
• Fish out of water

Chapter 1

Despite the bathwater’s warmth, Ara’s skin prickled with awareness, a knowing honed by centuries of vigilance. Someone had entered the room. She attuned her earth magic with the floor, the stone as familiar to her as one of her limbs. What…? Ah, there, it was. The buoyant weight of a levitation spell pressing where feet should be. A Seelie trick, that. But this uninvited guest had to be inexperienced not to realize how readily she would sense it.
As Ara scrubbed the cleansing cloth along her arm, she opened her shields enough to unfurl her other senses—a predator’s instincts. Her hearing heightened until she caught the sound of a ragged exhale. The slide of flesh over wood as fingers tightened and shifted. So the blade had a wooden hilt this time. The last person Meren had sent to kill her had shown up with a solid iron throwing knife.
Did he think her as fragile as a Sidhe? Felshreh—blood elves—weren’t so easily felled by iron.
The would-be assassin crept nearer, and the frantic pounding of their heart drummed in Ara’s ears. She feigned ignorance of the stranger’s approach, at least until she heard the rustle of fabric followed by the whistle-hiss of a descending blade. Then she sprang into motion, twisting and lunging so quickly that she sank her nails into the attacker’s arm before the blade made contact with her skin.
Water sloshed around her. A man’s cry rang out, and the assassin jerked against her hold. Ara grabbed his wrist with her other hand and sank her fangs into his forearm to release his blood—and create the blood link that would unlock his energy for her use. As his power buzzed through her, the man screamed again, this time from the pain she didn’t bother to dull. An assassin didn’t deserve the usual courtesies.
When he wavered on his feet, she sealed the wound on his arm so blood wouldn’t drip into her bath and then shoved him away. Even as he toppled over, she sucked out more of his energy. His little levitation spell winked out from lack of power, allowing him to thud onto the ground with a satisfying thump.
Ara leapt from the bath, cursing beneath her breath at the shock of cold. Then she straddled the man’s back and gripped his hair. Water soaked his clothes until he trembled from the chill and the fear he stank of. He was barely of a medium build, and from the blood link, she could feel that his energy reserves were only moderate. Meren must have a small pool of assassins to choose from.
“Who sent you?” she snarled.
A useless question, of course, but confirmation of her suspicions wouldn’t go amiss.
He made a feeble attempt at bucking her off, but he was already weak from magic loss. “I won’t tell you,” he said, his tone resolved despite his terror.
Scoffing, Ara took a greater hold on the blood link, opening it the slightest bit until she could suck more of his energy through. Power pulsed through her, enough to reshape the entire stone bathing chamber with barely a blink. She smiled. Her son, Fen, might enjoy taunting her with the humans’ vampire myths, but blood itself wasn’t the Felshreh’s greatest strength. Their food was the magic that blood unlocked.
And she never had turned away from a good meal.
“Would you like me to drain your power until you can no longer sustain your own life?” she asked sweetly.
The assassin paled. “He said you’d be helpless around water.”
“Meren?”
Although the man refused to answer, his subtle flinch and widened eyes told enough. “Let me go, and I will serve you,” he offered.
Did he really think she would believe that?
Ara’s laugh bounced around the room with deceptive cheer. “No, you won’t. Anyone who attacks the Unseelie queen does one thing: die.”
She’d threatened to completely drain his energy, but she wouldn’t. The dark stain of touching death so intimately with her magic…no. Instead, she claimed as much of his power as she dared before twisting his head to bare his throat. Then she released the blood link and let her fangs finish the task.
Ara had learned the hard way that softness only ruined one’s life.
#
Caolte glared at his brother’s image in the glass. He absolutely could not have heard those last words right. “A week at the outpost? On Earth?”
The hiss of Naomh’s aggravated sigh brushed against the small communication mirror he held. Unlike the large wall mirror Caolte stood in front of, Naomh had only the hand-sized one that his son Kai had enchanted for him, but it was sufficient for their needs. Which in this case appeared to be the delivery of nonsensical news. His brother did his best to hold to the ancient ways, and one of the Sidhe’s oldest oaths was to never step foot on the surface of Earth.
And as he’d just pointed out, the outpost was on Earth. Directly and irrefutably.
“Before you ask,” Naomh said. “I assure you that my injury has not muddled my mind. Rather, it has cleared it.”
Had his brother not looked so gaunt and worn down, Caolte might have argued the validity of that point. “I told you that you’d need to regain some energy before returning here, but I thought you would do so on Moranaia with your son as guard.”
“Meren caught me by surprise once. Once,” Naomh hissed. “I know you take your promise to our father seriously, but I am a—”
“Yes, I’m aware that you’re a powerful Seelie lord.” Caolte lifted a brow. “But you’re also rash at times. Making an alliance with Kien? Imprisoning your own son? Need I go on?”
His brother scowled, but he didn’t bother to argue with the statement. But then, it wasn’t the first time they’d had this disagreement. With Naomh’s element being earth and Caolte’s fire, most assumed that Caolte was the spontaneous one, when it was actually the opposite. His fire kept him contained, for never in his life had he been able to fully lower his guard. Not unless he wanted to incinerate everything around him.
“Don’t worry, brother,” Caolte said. “I won’t tell Kai where he gets it from.”
Surprisingly, Naomh smiled at the quip. “I doubt he would believe you.”
His nephew would figure it out soon enough without any aid. No matter how good Naomh was at feigning steadiness, his reaching nature always revealed itself in the end. Like the vines that bolstered his power, he quietly crept where he willed, regardless of what—or who—he might cross. Fortunately, it was a slow process that Caolte had long grown adept at spotting and redirecting.
Most of the time.
Caolte blinked, and the weight of his ever-present weariness settled in a fraction deeper. He needed to close this link before he wasted even more of his finite energy. “We can argue it later. It’s only been a day or two since your healing, and you need contact with earth to renew your energy. What kind of healer would send you off to a place where you won’t even touch the ground?”
“Oh, I’ll touch surface Earth now.” Naomh’s expression hardened. “I’ll forego honor if it means a quicker recovery.”
The air around Caolte warmed, a sign of his loosening control. “Heal on Moranaia.”
“It’s winter here. Nearly midwinter, in fact,” his brother snapped. “I need greenery for natural regeneration, and Lial is busy tending to refugees from the Isle of Dragons. Though it’s autumn at the outpost, there’s still enough life to be the better option.”
“The queen—”
“Can argue as she will. She owes her life to Unseelie royalty, one of whom is mated to the leader of the outpost.” Naomh shook his head. “Stop fretting, brother. The outpost is heavily guarded, and I’ll be able to regain my power more quickly. Or at least enough of it to resume charge of my realm. Perhaps not my realm’s repair, but that will come in time.”
The bitter tastes of anger and guilt coated Caolte’s tongue. Yes, he’d failed to properly uphold the magic here, but at least his brother had a place to repair. Their father had left Caolte nothing—save an oath that grew heavier with each passing century. Or day, as was the case lately. To some, duty seemed a gift. A reason for being. But it could also prevent a person from living.
“Caolte?”
He ran his fingers through his short hair and winced at the tingling sparks that never managed to burn his skin. Now his brother would know he was agitated. “I grow weary. I’ll end the communication link now, lest the strain on my energy damage your realm further. Let me know when you’ve reached the outpost safely.”
He cut the connection even as his brother’s mouth opened in some kind of retort. Caolte had nearly given his life for his brother twice—not that Naomh knew—and would do so again. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t find the man exasperating. The weeks since Meren had stabbed Naomh with an iron knife and left him for dead had passed in a blur. Now that the initial relief of his recovery was wearing off, Caolte couldn’t deny the growing urge to throttle him.
#
Ara jerked the bedroom door open and glared down the long corridor. There should have been a guard stationed in the center, but he was suspiciously absent. The rotten sremed had better pray he was dead—or at the least gravely injured. If he’d turned traitor, there was nowhere in this realm or any other that he could hide. Especially since he’d left Fen in danger. Her son and his mates were in residence directly across from where the guard should have been standing.
Before her heart could trip more than once in alarm, her son’s door opened, and Maddy poked her head out. A strand of her bold, red hair tumbled down her thin robe, but despite her rumpled state, she froze. The girl’s eyes widened with a hint of horror as she stared up the hallway at Ara.
“Umm. Queen. Your Majesty.” Maddy cleared her throat. “Are you aware you’re…umm…naked? Except for…”
Ara glanced down at herself and grimaced. She was indeed still naked, save the blood blotching her skin like nightmare freckles. Ah, well. Nothing to do but brazen it out. Shrugging, she met Maddy’s gaze. “Yes.”
The young woman blinked. “Oh. Okay, then. Do you… I don’t know, do you need something? This honestly wasn’t what I was expecting when I heard a noise.”
“I imagine not.” Ara bit back a smile. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen the guard who should have been near your door?”
“No, only you,” Maddy said.
A low grumble of annoyance heralded Fen’s arrival as he slipped up behind Maddy. “Anna said you…”
Like Maddy, he froze at the sight of her. Fen’s mouth dropped open before he abruptly spun away. In typical fashion, he knocked his forehead dramatically against the doorframe while muttering curses. Had the human world made them so exceedingly modest? Granted, she wouldn’t have been thrilled to see her own parents naked, but the fuss was a bit excessive.
“Do I even want to know why my mother is standing in the hallway in her birthday suit before the sun has even risen?” Fen groaned.
There really was nothing for it. Ara stiffened her spine and marched down the hall toward them. She didn’t have time for another bath, not until the missing guard had been tracked down and the corpse removed from her bathing chamber. She needed to solve matters now. Heckling her son was merely a bonus, if a self-defeating one. But it hardly mattered. He’d written off any hint of a relationship already.
“Do forgive me for not being properly dressed after fending off an assassin,” Ara said, the hurt from her thoughts lending a chill to her words that she hadn’t intended. “Regrettably, he didn’t allow me time to leave my bath and garb myself appropriately.”
Fen flinched, his forehead cracking against the doorframe with a decidedly louder snap. “Fucking hell,” he yelped, rubbing the welling bump as he spun to face her.
“Don’t do childish things, and you won’t have childish consequences,” Ara pronounced dryly.
As usual, he missed the wry humor buried in her tone. “Thanks for the sage advice. I’ll be sure to order your ‘World’s Best Mom’ cup next time I’m on Earth.”
The bitter barb cut her more deeply than the assassin’s blade ever could have, even though she didn’t entirely understand the insult. “Fen. I didn’t come out here to argue. There should be a guard outside your door, and you should all be on alert while I figure out why there isn’t.”
Though Fen hated her, she had finally brought her son home, and she would kill anyone who threatened him. Never again. Never again would he be left unprotected while she worried over the throne and the endless court schemes. Staying away hadn’t saved him last time, and she refused to take that risk again.
“I’ll go and find—”
“No,” Ara snapped. “You will return to your rooms with your mates and bar the door. I’ve already killed one person before breakfast, and I’m annoyed enough to deliver retribution to any others.”
Color draining from her face, Maddy sidled closer to Fen. Fabulous. Now I’ve scared one of my son’s mates, Ara grumbled to herself. But she wouldn’t back down. Not in this.
Unfortunately, Fen was unaffected. “There’s no reason we can’t help search.”
“It is too dangerous.”
He rolled his eyes. “An assassin made it into your bathroom. Where the hell are any of us supposed to be safe?”
Ara pressed her fingertips into her temples and recited the Order of Nobles in her head until she could regain control over her temper. Sadly, it would take naming every noble House in the kingdom to fully stifle her aggravation, but at least by the time she’d made it through the royal cousins, she was able to proceed with the conversation. Such as it was.
“My door was not barred,” she said. “Yours will be.”
Thump.
Her attention jerked to the door across from Fen’s. The noise had come from there.
Thump. Thump, thump, thump.
Waving the others aside, Ara rushed to investigate. But as she grasped the doorknob, a loud moan echoed through the wood. A moan of pleasure. She froze—or rather, burned—from the force of the rage that swept through her. Had she really had to kill an assassin and march naked down the hallway because her guard couldn’t help but fuck someone while on duty? He’d better hope she was mistaken about those sounds.
She shoved through the door, and her breath hissed out at the sight that greeted her. Her guard had a woman bent over a chair, her upturned skirts the only thing blocking Ara’s view of the man’s thrusts. Both were lost in the moment, their eyes pinched closed in pleasure. But the man was a bodyguard. Shouldn’t he have noticed her presence?
The fool.
With a flex of power, Ara softened the floor beneath their feet, then whipped tendrils of the stone around their ankles like vines. The woman yelped, and the guard tried and failed to step back, teetering on his stuck feet until he caught the side of the chair with his hand. Finally, he saw Ara, and the blood rushed from his face so abruptly that he was as pale as a Felshreh.
Ah, the guard was Scalanis. She should have known.
“Your Majesty,” he gasped.
Ara’s bare feet slapped against the floor as she crossed the space between them. “You dare to neglect your duties for your own pleasure?”
His companion showed no fear—no, it was annoyance in her gaze as the guard shoved her skirts down. Scalanis didn’t notice the scowl the woman transferred to him as he tucked himself back into his pants. He was too busy trying to combine syllables into something resembling words to actually look at the woman he’d just been buried in.
“A…a moment,” Scalanis managed. “There couldn’t have been much harm done while I was…”
Ara gestured at the blood drying in patches on her skin. “Does it look as though all was well during your little diversion? And to bring a stranger into the royal wing is an unfathomably bad lapse in judgment.”
The guard shook his head. “No, no. She’s a maid here. Nothing ever happens while I’m on duty, so I thought there’d be no harm in a bit of fun before she cleans the room.”
Before Ara could retort, the woman straightened with a sharp, scornful laugh. “What a worthless fool. Couldn’t help me find my pleasure and couldn’t identify a trap when he was fucking one.”
“But—”
“She doesn’t work here,” Ara said through gritted teeth. “You should have learned during your training that seduction is a common ploy for assassins.”
“Usually my favorite one, too.” The woman glared at Scalanis again. “When they’re good.”
Above the guard’s muttered curses, a chuckle sounded from the doorway—Fen, of course. Why had she expected him to return to his room with his mates? He ignored nearly every instruction she gave him. Had she raised him from the start, perhaps he would have obeyed without question, but he had no respect for her and thus no reason to heed her directions. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have stepped into a dangerous situation without a care.
She needed to end this quickly.
With her earth magic, Ara gathered more stone from the floor and twisted another layer around the spy’s feet and legs. Surprisingly, the woman laughed again. Her hand whipped up, and before anyone could react, she’d buried a knife in Scalanis’s throat. His gagging, gurgling breaths sliced through the room, an announcement of his pending death. There was no way a healer would arrive in time to fix that.
“I would have advised him to improve his technique, but it won’t be a concern for him anymore,” the assassin said.
Then in a flash of magic, she disappeared.