Heir of Lies (Black Dawn Series Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Heir of Lies

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Chapter Forty

  Chapter Forty-One

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  HEIR OF LIES

  Copyright © Mallory McCartney 2019

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, nor translated into a machine language, without the written permission of the publisher.

  Condition of sale

  This book was sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it was published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  ISBN: 978-1-9992547-0-4

  The moral right of the author had been asserted.

  This was a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events and organizations was purely coincidental.

  Cover Art by Cora Graphics

  Shutterstock.com

  Formatted by Rebecca Garcia at Dark Wish Designs

  Map art by Lizard Ink Maps

  For the dreamers who see endless possibilities and the magic in everyday life.

  And for everyone who has dared to fight for love, in all its forms.

  Prologue

  Fifteen years earlier,

  Sarthaven (The Ruined City)

  The note shook so hard in her grasp, Nei Fae couldn’t focus on the words splayed before her. With a racing pulse and a sharp ringing coursing through her ears, she crumpled the paper beneath her white knuckles.

  Breathe.

  The words branded her like hot iron to her flesh, her entire being coursing with them. Her hope was consumed by them.

  She sat at her desk, like any other day. The afternoon light poured in through the window, catching the various objects scattered throughout, from the copious number of books to the overwhelming stack of papers. A hard glint reflected off her longsword and throwing knives that lay scattered throughout the room.

  Her office was one of solace, in a time where peace was very hard to find.

  Her golden hair spilled forward as she dropped her face into her hands, covering her eyes while her senses were diluted and muffled, if only for a second.

  Her father’s voice filled Nei’s mind as clear as day in her reprieve: ‘You will not marry for love, my sweet girl, but you will sacrifice yourself wholeheartedly so that this world may see a day where peace ensues; so that this war will ease itself into the pages of our history.’

  He had been spot on. It had been one year since her arranged marriage where their world had quaked and shook with the defiance of it: a wild woman from the Shattered Isles betrothed to the prince.

  People’s reactions had been worse than expected, to say the least.

  When Nei Runnard had been scuffling around with her sisters and sailing the coast, following her heart wherever adventure was, Roque Fae was being groomed in the politics of his court and his country. Nei had almost laughed when her father sat her down and told her he had sealed her fate.

  One. Year.

  She left her family, her life, her hopes and dreams behind to marry a man she loathed. Now, he was tolerable but still undeniably an arse in more ways than not.

  It was a strong union, she was told. One that would end her people’s suffering. Her marriage to Roque Fae would ensure that the Shattered Isles would thrive again, trading wine and fruit with Kiero. Instead of what the reality was now: her people being captured and enslaved, sailors’ ships being attacked by Kiero’s fleets, burned and sent to the bottom of the Black Sea.

  So here she was, prettily packaged, trying to quell Kiero’s hatred toward her country. It had surprised her at first, how angry the people were. So what if she was a rover, a pirate. More warrior than princess.

  Every day in this court proved just how deep rooted the people’s suffering went; every day, accusations of the government not providing the security and protection the people wanted, that they needed, came in.

  Sighing, Nei Fae stood, stretching, and her joints popped. Beneath her simple garb, bruises flowered her body from her sparring sessions, reminding her with every step who she was, where her roots lay. And she had fiercely promised herself that – to not forget.

  Nei’s only friend in this forsaken court, Bresslin Stratton, took it upon herself to have daily evening walks with her. Instead of dresses and gossip, they filled their time with clashing steel and aching muscles.

  Smiling wolfishly, Nei reminded herself what her sisters had always said: that amongst them all, she was born with the fury of the sea, with the resilience of the rocks the water crashed upon. She would not break beneath the pressures, lies, and riots of being a hated Queen.

  Her sisters had been so sure she had what it took to be Queen. Their excitement, their hope of a better life rather than one of fighting for survival, is what kept Nei from running away and disappearing into nothingness.

  Besides Bresslin, that’s what everyone here thought of her - That she wasn’t as cunning or had the potential to rule beside Roque.

  A sharp knock sliced through her thoughts, and she stood quickly, tucking the note tightly against her wrist and out of sight.

  The door swung open, and Roque leaned lazily against the doorframe, arms crossed and mischief dancing in his green eyes. Their outfits were matching, black loose pants and shirt; a deep plum cloak was fastened at his throat.

  Swallowing hard, Nei bowed her head, rasping, “My King.”

  Three hundred and sixty-five days later, she was still not used to saying those two words. Two words that chained her.

  Lifting her dark gaze, she got a lifted brow in response, as Roque stepped into her office. “Are you ready? They won’t wait forever you know.”

  The council.

  And like every other day, Nei plastered that splintering grin, making her cheeks hurt. “Of course,” she said.

&n
bsp; His brows furrowed for a moment before he offered his arm to her, the gentleman he was dictated to be. She was grace and poise as she accepted his gesture, and in tow, they left behind her sanctuary.

  Sarthaven, the Capital of Kiero, ‘the city beneath the stars’, bustled outside the towering walls, the shouts and chaos a never-ending serenade.

  Nei wanted to laugh at the acclaimed name. It was far from the truth. The people here came to seek a better quality of life but found more division; while the only thing that bred here were riots and death.

  Dread filled her core as they walked in silence down the winding hallway, the sunlight flickering as they passed each small window. Every footfall, every step was a reminder of what lay ahead, waiting in the shape of four council members. Nervously, she shifted her arm, trying to ease her roaring mind. At the end of the cavernous hallway, twenty steps away, an oak door gleamed, two guards stationed by it.

  They wore silver shirts and pants, the material shimmering like stardust, and stood so still at first glance they could pass as statues. She caught the flicker of their empty eyes, the rise and fall of their pale skin. As they drew closer, they bowed their shaved heads, revealed two inky black sigils above their brow. Stomach dropping, a cold sweat clung to her skin as she looked at the men from the Shattered Isles - broken and made to serve a country they hated while Nei lived in luxury.

  A cold fire burned in their eyes as they met her gaze, unsaid accusations burning behind their looks. Why had she agreed to this union if more men and women from the Shattered Isles were enslaved to serve the Faes? Her people were seen as savages and were treated as such in Kiero.

  Slaves.

  Nei’s steps faltered. Three hundred and sixty-five days of sacrificing everything she was, and this had not stopped. It was the only reason she had agreed to go through with this madness. Her people lived a content, happy life on the Shattered Isles, one where they hadn’t recognized a king in almost several decades, until the Faes and Roque’s father deemed his son the one true king.

  Now, the world was divided between a tyrant and a son wanting to make his father proud. She was a pawn, a promise to her people that even though their abilities were different, they were nurtures and healers and wouldn’t be made to bow, wouldn’t be penalized. That as queen, she would break the preconceived notion that they were lesser in anyway.

  And she was failing.

  Nei tore her gaze from the two rovers and forced her features into a neutral expression. Roque grimly smiled down at her before pushing the door open, and they stepped in.

  The room was large, a deep oak table placed in its center. The bay window behind the four figures seated encompassed the world behind them. The sun flared in the sky, bathing the bustling city in light.

  Or burning it.

  Nei gritted her teeth when she and Roque stopped and bowed low, their sweeping arms and submissive figures applying all the grandeur this life demanded. They rose together, and Roque gently held her hand as they walked toward the council, the vision of unity.

  The council - two men and two women – were scowling. Their papery skin looking translucent in the sun, showing the map of blue veins rippling along their arms and necks. Their severe features let no emotions pass, and Nei’s gut twisted with nerves. These ancient souls in front of her dictated every move, political and personal for the royal family.

  Roque squeezed her clammy hand gently, as if to say: Don’t worry, this is the best way; or don’t worry you are one of us, they can’t hurt you.

  Nei sat stiffly in the chair before her, Roque following suit.

  Oren, the head of the council, leaned forward, his watery eyes locking on her. “Your Highnesses, I must be blunt. We are curious as to why you called this meeting. We thought our demands were clear.”

  It took all of her control not to unleash her fury right then and there. Their “demands” were for her and Roque to sit idly by while every day more of their people were slaughtered. While everyday more of her people were enslaved.

  Nei slipped on that practiced mask of calm and poise, batt her eyes at Roque, smiling sweetly. Let them play me for the fool.

  Leaning forward, his deep voice rumbled, “Esteemed council members, my Queen and I come to you today with a proposition. One that will only strengthen our world and help end the suffering that is evident within our society. I must be equally blunt, being a new father now has brought to light the flaws within my own father’s arrangement. I will do what is best for my daughter’s future, and my country’s.”

  Nei watched Oren’s expression for any slip of his mask. The council had been Roque’s father’s private advisors, first hailing from the Arken mountains in the north. She had heard the rumors of their dark magic bewitching Camden Fae, allowing Kiero to turn its back on its people and falling into madness...

  Oren scoffed. “Please, no insult intended, my King, but...”

  Roque’s gaze darkened as he snapped, “You will not interrupt me, Oren. I’m your king. It’s time this council embraces the future. And I will not stand for one that’s bathed in blood.”

  Roque was arrogant and entitled but maybe her pleas had gotten through to him. She had begged him endlessly, their arguments flowing late into the night. He could not turn a blind eye anymore, even though he was afraid of what the world would think and say. But here he sat, powerful and determined, and for the briefest second, admiration flared within her.

  “Nei and I are ready to move forward in our lives, and the council and my father will not be privy to our decisions anymore. It’s time for you all to step down.”

  The council members’ voices rose in an uproar, accusations being thrown at them both.

  Oren’s voice, as usual, cut right through the rest, “This is because of her. Roque, you have been poisoned by this, this witch from those cursed Islands.” Spittle flew from Oren’s mouth, as his pointed finger shook toward Nei’s chest.

  Slowly and very surely, she focused on Oren, taking in the old man.

  I will end you, even if it means war.

  Nei swallowed down her thoughts, proud her voice was steady when she said, “No, Oren. I am not a witch, only a healer. A woman who wants to see a world that is not trying to tear itself apart. A Queen that has dreams for her King, her daughter, and to ensure we will rule justly and not be ravished in lies and in corruption.” She paused. “Too long has this council pushed the idea that their one true King is one of triumphant power, when our people are taking this notion and abusing their abilities on my kinsmen and enslaving them. When they are hunting and killing desolates because they aren’t worthy of life.”

  Oren spat out, “And what do you think they will do when the world finds out your husband is a desolate?”

  Roque slammed his fist down on the table, the wood shaking from the force. “It is time my people know the truth. I am a king that is barren of ability. But it takes more than might to rule. It is time to rebuild our world, and this will start with our new government.”

  Laughter danced around them, and Nei clenched her fist, her nails biting into the flesh of her palms. Roque rolled his shoulders, bringing himself up to his full height in his seat. “The time of this monarchy is done. There will be consequences for slave traders and for the slaughter of desolates. It starts today, with the expulsion of this council. You are all relieved of your duties and services.”

  Oren pushed his chair back, the wood screeching against the cement. Looking feral, he shook with rage. “And what exactly are you going to do?”

  The Roque she recognized flickered back through, as he leaned forward, almost touching noses with Oren and said, “Nei and I are building a sanctuary for all who want to learn how to control their abilities and harness it. To be used for good, not for fueling the death tolls and riots. A place for desolates to take refuge. Most importantly, a place to build a government that will preserve our culture and uphold the rights of our people.”

  “A place that will never exist.”

&n
bsp; Nei chuckled. “Oren, you are already behind the times. This place will exist, and you are staring at its founders.”

  Roque leaned away. “I do believe we are done here.”

  Each of the council members left in an arrangement of curses and rolling anger.

  Oren stared at them both, collecting himself before saying, “I hope you both know that we will not let this stand.” He left, allowing his words to linger in the air before snapping the door closed behind him.

  “We have to go, now,” Roque whispered.

  Nei collected herself. The council would move fast, but they were faster. Bresslin and Cesan Stratton were ready for them, with Emory. They would leave this city behind and flee for their future.

  Consuming the distance between them, Nei threw her arms around his neck and said on an exhale, “Thank you, truly.”

  A flicker of surprise crossed Roque’s face before a small smirk tugged the corner of his lips. He quipped, “They will try to kill us, you know.”

  Abashed from showing emotion, Nei pulled away. “Oh, no doubt. It will take years for people to accept this idea. This mad dream of ours.”

  Despite her hatred, the confinement of her marriage, there was always something so much more important. Putting her differences aside, Nei had chosen fighting for freedom, above all else. Freedom for the Shattered Isles, for Kiero. For their daughter’s future.

  Running, the note in Nei’s sleeve felt like lead, anchoring her to her decisions. She was torn in two: a queen and a daughter loyal to her people.

  Their footfalls pounded around them, echoing in the hallway, and Nei summoned a flicker of energy, calling to her elements. Her skin burned, and the note ignited quickly, dissolving into ash, the remains soaring behind her, lost and unseen.

  No one would know. Not Roque, Emory, or Bresslin.

  Her father’s reply to her letter seared through her: I will miss you, my sweet daughter. But know we will wait, and when you are ready, we will answer your call for war. May the winds be with you, and your fierceness never falter. The Shattered Isles will answer to you and you alone.

  Nei ran faster, her heart racing. She dared Oren to come after them, to declare a threat to their peace. Because the Shattered Isles were ready, and they answered to only her.