Wilding Heart (chapter 1)

Prince Sol of the Tuatha de’ stared at his reflection, not for the first time wondering what it was about him that was so terrible that Lady Luck hated him. He was handsome enough. With strong hewn features, sun gold hair and a physique that brought women to their knees, he had been told by countless admirers he was the epitome of male perfection. He had been called charming, a scoundrel, a lover that ruined women for all other men, and yet a simple compliment to a beautiful woman had seen his love life turn barren in an instant.

Turning away from the wall length mirror, he gazed at his bed – his large, lonely, empty bed. Even the one woman who had reason to despise him, his brother’s bride-to-be, was willing to forgive and forget. Granted, being the embodiment of wishes, she had a soft heart. Her sister, the living embodiment of luck, couldn’t forgive whatever it was he’d said that offended her. He hadn’t had a woman in months and it was starting to wear on his normally cheerful demeanor.

He could change his luck for the better without her forgiveness, he knew. People could make their own luck with a bit of effort and perseverance, but something in him rebelled at the idea. She had to forgive him. She had to.

“Sol?”

His father stood in the doorway. Finnbara was eons old but the Tuatha de’ king showed no signs of aging, a thing Sol was grateful for. He had no urge to take the throne any time soon.

“Yes, Father?”

“Your brother and his bride-to-be will arrive tomorrow morning.”

“I remember, Father. I’ll be sure to be there to greet them.” He managed a grin. “I want to meet this woman who has my brother so tangled.” A woman he’d placed in danger a few months ago because of his own thoughtless actions. He had much to atone for.

Finnbara nodded. “You aren’t the only one. Your mother is practically beside herself.”

At least his mother hadn’t started shoving any eligible women his way yet but, with Centauri marrying, it was only a matter of time. The idea would occur to her, of that he had no doubt.

“Good night, Father.”

Shrewd dark eyes swept over him and Sol knew he wasn’t fooling his father. After all, the bed behind him remained empty of a willing body as it had for far too long. Still, Finnbara merely nodded and left. Sol breathed a silent sigh of relief and sank down on the bed.

If only she hadn’t said what she had, he might find it in him to change his own luck. Do us all a favor and make the next woman you bed your wife. The words echoed in his head as if it had been yesterday. Now, when he looked at a woman, he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of wife she would make and that sort of wondering killed lust as fast as a douse of Winter in his lap. To be chained to the same woman for years was his idea of hell.  He’d yet to meet a woman who could keep his interest for more than a night or three.

But how to find Lady Luck? How to get her to change her mind? The wondering kept him lost in his own thoughts as night moved on.

The dark scent of chocolate embraced in the chill of mint caught him and he looked up. Breath froze in his chest and he didn’t move, afraid the vision would vanish if he did. Maybe wishes was on his side after all.

Red curls bobbed at her jaw line, fire and gold in soft ringlets around the face that haunted his dreams. Unlike the sensually challenging garments she’d worn the first time he’d seen her, tonight she wore dark, loose fitting pants and a baggy shirt that covered the delectable body he knew lay beneath. Emerald green eyes rested on him, wary. Lady Luck, in the flesh, and she didn’t look happy. She looked exhausted. She looked in need of a hug, not a tumble.

“Princess?” He couldn’t think of what else to call her. She’d never bothered to give him her name.

She blinked, her slender body tight and her posture defensive. “Do you want me to let bygones be bygones?”

Oddly, there was no challenge in the words. Sol breathed slow and easy, trying to order his thoughts. What in the world could have brought her here? 

“No.” The word seemed to surprise her as much as it did him. “I don’t want you to let it go. I want you to forgive me for whatever it was that I did.”

“You get my sister in over her head because you can’t keep your pants on and then you come on to me? What do you think you did wrong?”

The arched brow and sarcastic tone was more like the woman he remembered. Still, he frowned.

“I asked your name, nothing more.”

“The face that will haunt my dreams,” she mocked in a falsetto that grated.

“The truth. Your face haunts my dreams every night.” He knew she heard the truth of the words because her mouth went tight and the contemptuous glitter in her eyes vanished into uncertainty. He rose slowly, not wanting to startle her. “Princess, what’s wrong?”

“Does something have to be wrong?”

“To bring you to my door?” He wasn’t going to ask how she got past the guards or how she’d found his room. “Yes.”

A smile flirted with the corners of her mouth but didn’t lighten the darkness that lay at the back of her eyes. She let out a breath and looked away.

“I need you to offer me hospitality,” she said.

“You want to be trapped here for a month?” He could be forgiven his disbelief. While part of him found the idea undeniably attractive, it was wrong on so many levels.  “With me?”

“No, I need to be bound where I can’t be summoned. I thought you would be willing to barter with me.” She stepped back. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”

“Don’t go!”

He kept from chasing her down by sheer dint of will and the knowledge that his hole would only get deeper if he did. She hesitated. That was good enough for him. Going to the tray by the fireplace, he poured a small goblet of honey wine and brought it to her.

“No cost, Princess. No barter.  I freely offer you hospitality.”

She eyed the goblet. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because forgiveness is earned, Princess, not purchased.” He shrugged. “A month of your time and I might manage that feat.”

She took the goblet and looked up at him, a strange vulnerability in those jewel green eyes. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

“No price, Princess.” He didn’t make the mistake of showing the smile that blossomed in his chest as she tilted the glass and drank. She was here, bound to Tir na Nog until the moon came full cycle again. The whys of it he would discover later.

“You look as if you could use some sleep,” he told her as he returned the goblet to the tray.

“You offer me that bed behind you and I’m going to kick you again.” For the first time, real humor laced her words. Running fingers through her hair and setting the curls on end, she eyed him, her weariness more apparent. “I need to let Finnbara know I’m here and why. You wouldn’t happen to be able to help there, would you?”

“Yes.” As heir, he always knew where his father was just as he would know the instant his father took his last breath. “Come with me and I’ll show you.”

“Thank you.” Wrapping her arms around her waist, she followed him.

She looked lost, he thought. More than exhausted, she looked as if she’d reached the last rung on her ladder and was dangling above the abyss. As much as he wanted to ask, he kept his curiosity to himself.

His father hadn’t retired but was in a small receiving room near the royal halls. The reason became clear as soon as they stepped through the door.

Fíon Caílíocha, the jester and ruler of the Seelie Court, waited, his honey eyes as dark as walnut with worry. Perched on a narrow bench beside the massive form of the Tuatha de’ king, his gossamer wings gently fanning the air, the sprite looked fragile. Nothing could be further from the truth. His gaze found the Princess as she stepped around Sol and a new light glittered in his eyes.

“So Luck is with us after all,” he murmured.

“Sire,” Sol bowed to his father. “She asked to speak with you.”

Finnbara rose to tower over the slender Sidhe Princess. She bowed her head, a respectful gesture Sol hadn’t expected.

“Your heir has offered me the hospitality of Tir na Nog, Sire,” she said. “I only wished to make sure you knew and understood.”

“I told him.” Fíon’s wings fluttered, a strangely nervous movement for the normally light-hearted sprite. “Starla asked the same of me not but last night and Star is safe enough bound in Centauri’s courtship as she is. What of the fourth?”

She shook her head, her curls bobbing. “No one knows what Aster is up to. It’s not as if we keep track of her.”

“Princess Aster would be a difficult sibling to care for,” Finnbara agreed. “You are welcome here, Princess. And I thank you for the freedom you have given up for the good of the realms. It is noted and appreciated. Sol will show you where you can rest and we can speak more on the matter in the morning after your sister arrives.”

“Star’s coming here?” She seemed surprised.

“She’s accepted my son’s suit and is coming to ask my blessing on the union.” Finnbara crossed his arms, muscles bulging. “Get some rest. I have a feeling we’re all going to need it in the days to come.”

The Princess nodded and turned to Sol, her expression questioning. Bowing his head in respect to the two rulers, he led her away, back through the halls toward his own room.

“Where are we going?”

The suspicion in her voice made him smile a little. She’d been keeping track of the turnings after all.

“To the Green Rooms. I think you’ll like them.” They were directly across the hall from his rooms and the color would do glorious things for her, though he wondered if he’d ever be allowed to enjoy that particular view. “Since I am the one who offered you hospitality, I am responsible for you.”

“I’m not here to cause you trouble.”

He paused beside the doors to the suite, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Why are you here, Princess? You could have gone anywhere and asked for hospitality and it would have been gladly given. Luck has always been welcomed in the Seelie Court, for instance. Your sister is there. Why come to me?”

She gazed up at him, her normally mocking expression one of weary resignation. “I’m here because this is where I need to be.” She sighed, rubbing her arms as if chilled. “Four compass points birthed of the moon, four anchors and four charms to prevent dark doom.”

Luna, the Moon Queen of the Sidhe, had four daughters. As he’d recently learned, each was the living embodiment of the foundations of Fae magic. A star for luck, a wishing star, the star to guide by and the dark star. He understood her part in the prophecy, but he had never considered the doom part to be quite real.

She nodded. “It’s coming, Sol, and she’ll use us and our gifts. If not to unify the realms under her rule, then simply to undermine and weaken everyone else. We have to be free. Star is the only one of us that’s protected from her. Fíon’s gift of free will to his daughter is far more powerful than any of you realize.”

“I see.” He leaned against the wall, thinking. “Can you tell me something, Princess?”

Her expression turned wary. “What?”

“Just what is your damned name?”

The smile started slow, creeping to edge into her eyes as a chuckle bubbled up. “You’re kidding.”

“No.” He couldn’t help sounding disgruntled. “You never told me.”

“You could have asked someone else.” He arched a brow and she sighed, laughter still softening her face. “There may not be a price for your hospitality, but there is one for my name.”

“And what price would that be?” If she asked him to stay away from her, she’d just have to learn to live with Princess. There was no way now that he had her in his power that he was going to pass up the opportunity to get to know her better.

“Learn to wear a shirt while I’m here.”

He grinned. “Tempted?”

“Do I look dead?” She looked disgusted by it, too. Not the response he could have hoped for, but she wasn’t immune to him. That was something.

“No, you look exquisitely beautiful as always, but tired.” He nudged her toward the door. “Get some sleep, Princess, and I’ll go see if I own any shirts.”

She opened the door and stepped inside, pausing to look back over her shoulder at him.

“Stella.”

The door closed behind her and he pushed away from the wall, oddly content. Stella. A shooting star. It suited her.

The capricious and lovely Lady Luck was here. Tomorrow, he would begin to court her forgiveness and her favor. He let himself into his rooms and stared at the huge empty bed and smiled. She’d said she wouldn’t sleep with him, but he doubted once he got her into his bed, either of them would sleep. And get her there he would if it were the last thing he accomplished in this life. He would prove to her she was wrong about him. There was more to him than a body to worship the women that fell his way. He laughed for the sheer pleasure of the realization that washed through him.

The woman he was going to marry was named Stella.