Heir of Broken Fate (HOBF Book 1)

I open my eyes to find a younger version of Annie peering down at me, so close to my face I can feel the warmth of her breath across my cheeks. Her electric copper red hair is cut to her shoulders, parted in the middle, half of it pulled back as the front pieces dangle beside her cheeks. The color makes her blue eyes stand out, the smattering of freckles across her nose adding to her beauty.

“Annie, where’s Easton?” I croak.

Younger Annie tilts her head to the side. “Who’s Easton?”

The question jars me, sending a flood of memories through my mind, making my heart break all over again.

Jolting up, I realize I’m not speaking to a younger Annie. My thoughts are confirmed as the woman—or should I say Fae—tucks her hair behind her ears, revealing pointed, elongated ears.

Sucking in a breath, I’m shocked I found another Fae. Or perhaps, she found me?

Gazing around the room, I ask, “How did I get here?”

I’m lying on a single cot pushed up against a brick wall. It’s a cozy area, with a small fireplace across from two worn couches and a small kitchen across the hall, its counters visible through the open archway.Nôvel(D)rama.Org's content.

“I walked out of my cabin this morning to a rowboat tied to my dock. When I peeked inside, you were lying there unconscious.” Her features twist, unease simmering in her blue eyes. “You were badly injured, so I used my magic to heal you.”

“Healed me?” I squeak. “Oh, right,” I say, feeling stupid. I point to her ears. “Pointy ears and all, you have magic.”

The Fae chuckles, her cheeks tinting pink. “I don’t know why you’re so surprised. You have them as well.”

“I what?” I yelp.

Without another word, I slide off the cot, rushing around the room in search of a mirror, startling the poor Fae that looks just as frazzled as I am. Finding a bathroom across the other side of the room, I lock myself inside. Slowly turning to the mirror, I study my reflection.

I see no physical changes to my features or body, yet I somehow look different. My creamy skin appears to be glowing. Taking a deep breath I close my eyes, tucking my long dark brown hair behind my ears before my eyelids flutter open. My mouth falls open as I stumble backward into the bathroom door.

I must be hallucinating.

Taking tentative steps closer to the mirror, I gently bring the tip of my fingers to the top of my ears, finding the shape not round, but elongated and pointed.

How is this possible? Do you change into a Fae when you cross over? No, that’s ludicrous. You must be born Fae.

That single thought ceases every other that was waiting in line to spring into my mind.

How am I Fae?

Panic claws its way up my throat as no answers come to mind.

It’s fine, I tell myself. Simply a trick of magic.

I choose to believe the delusional thought, pushing and shoving every confusing question and emotion away.

It’s easier to ask questions as a Fae as opposed to a human. Easton and I never considered that perhaps it was the Fae’s choice to cut off all ties with the humans. It’s better this way, until I find answers that is.

Lifting my head, I peer at myself once more, staring into the depths of my ice blue eyes.

This is the one thing that I must hide. For all I know, they could find out I’m indeed human and be punished for it. Or worse, poked and prodded until they find out why I turned into a Fae.

Taking one last look at my new ears, I straighten my spine before exiting the bathroom, finding the stunned Fae sitting in the living room.

“I’m sorry about earlier. My mind seems to be a bit all over the place,” I mutter.

She nods. “You have a concussion.”

My eyebrows jump into my hair line. Her magic told her that?

“I have earth magic. My healing powers are stronger and slightly different compared to others,” she explains, seemingly reading my mind.

“Well, thank you for taking care of me. I’m Delilah, by the way.”

I don’t dare tell her my last name. Knowing that the Covington’s have ruled Aloriah by that name for centuries. She’d recognize the human name in an instant.

“That’s a gorgeous name!” she blurts, turning her head to the side as she studies me. “Definitely suits you.”

Smiling, I wait for her to give me her own name. When it doesn’t come, I make a rolling motion with my hand.

Her cheeks burn bright crimson. “Oh! Hazel.”

I wink. “Stunning name.”

Standing, she moves toward the single cot, pointing to my bags. “I brought them in. I didn’t want any animals finding them.”

“Thank you, that was thoughtful.”

My heart stops cold as I spot Easton’s bag beside the cot. In my haste last night, I didn’t pay attention to which bags I picked up.

“Who’s Easton? You were calling out the name in your sleep. Were you two traveling together?” Hazel asks.

Hearing his name out loud makes my stomach sink as bile rises. I will the tears not to come, blinking rapidly to make them disappear. My voice cracks as I try to speak. “I actually don’t remember much.”

The lie tastes sour on my tongue, yet the thought of saying what happened to Easton… Speaking the words brings ice to my veins.

“Where are we?” I ask, changing the topic.

“Western border of the Earth Court,” Hazel chirps. Walking into the kitchen, she returns with two cups of tea, handing one to me.

Taking a sip, my eyes widen as the flavor of chamomile erupts on my tongue. My mouth salivates over the sweet floral taste, bringing my taste buds to life.

I don’t remember ever drinking tea this sweet at home. It—

My senses are enhanced.

What else has changed and why?

Hazel’s feathery sweet voice drags me from my thoughts. “Do you want to go for a walk outside? See if you remember anything?”

I set the mug down. “I’d love that.”

Following Hazel past the living room, we walk through the arched front door. My hand flies to my mouth as a gasp erupts out of me. The Fae lands are still alive.

A cobblestoned pathway snakes from the cabin to a wooden dock. A small bridge arches over the river, with both sides of the riverbed covered in lively flowers of pink, orange, blue, and purple. Two large oak trees curve toward each other in front of the cabin, creating a canopy archway of vibrant green leaves. Stepping onto the grass, my heart soars; it feels exactly like my dreams, soft and cloud-like. Turning back, I find the small, one-level cabin built of rocks, bricks, and straw. Small puffs of smoke float from the chimney.

Every color I see is magnified, the air I breathe clean and pure. I can hear birds singing from miles away, the grass rustling as tiny insects move between the blades.

All my senses are amplified.

Exactly like my dreams.

Coming to sit beside Hazel on the riverbed, I tentatively touch the water, joy erupting throughout my body as the energy of the water sings through my fingers.

“This place is magical,” I breathe.

Hazel chuckles. “Literally.”

Internally chastising myself, I realize I need to act as a Fae who’s lived here her whole life. My awestruck face probably isn’t convincing Hazel.

“How long have you lived here?” I ask.

Hazel’s face shudders, her shoulders tightening. “Around one hundred and forty years.”

I bite my tongue to keep the surprise in. She doesn’t look a day over twenty-five.

The Fae truly age differently.

“Do you remember where you live?” Hazel asks, plucking pink flowers from the garden bed.

Shaking my head, I tamp down on the disgust I feel at the thought of calling the palace home. Brows furrowing, Hazel pauses, the flowers in her hand freezing midair. “You can stay here. Until your memory comes back. I can’t in good conscience let you leave with a concussion.”

I open my mouth to protest when I remember that Easton isn’t with me anymore, that I’m alone with nowhere to go, no one to help me.

“I would appreciate that, thank you,” I whisper.

Later that evening, after helping Hazel make chicken stew for dinner and having a mouth orgasm over the richness of food, I’m sitting on the single cot unable to look away from Easton’s bag at the end of the bed.

Hesitantly reaching for it, I pick it up, settling it down beside me. With my senses heightened, Easton’s smell fills the space around me. My eyes begin to water as I unclasp the front latch. My hands tremble as I take a peek inside, pulling out the worn white cotton tunic sitting on top. Without a second thought, I bring it to my chest, hugging the fabric close to me.

I can’t stop the onslaught of tears that escape me.

He should be here.

Easton would have loved this place. I can picture the joy on his face when he realized the Fae lands still exist—that we found them.

It still doesn’t feel real. I feel like I’m going to wake up at any moment and run into his bedroom to find him reading. Where I can cuddle him and tell him all about the nightmare of losing him, as he slowly strokes my hair, reassuring me that he will never go anywhere, never leave me.

I lie down, curling deeper into myself, hugging his shirt to my chest as I let myself quietly fall apart.

I won’t stop until I find out if the Fae can help. I absolutely refuse to let Easton die for nothing.

For Easton, everything for Easton.

Together forever.