The Beast of the Fae Court Read online

  The Beast of the Fae Court © 2019 Embrace the Fantasy Publishing, LLC

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also by Erin Bedford

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Ericka’s Famous Ham & Cheese Quiche

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  Also by Erin Bedford

  About the Author

  Also by Erin Bedford

  The Underground Series

  Chasing Rabbits

  Chasing Cats

  Chasing Princes

  Chasing Shadows

  Chasing Hearts

  The Crimes of Alice

  The Mary Wiles Chronicles

  Marked by Hell

  Bound by Hell

  Deceived by Hell

  Tempted by Hell

  Starcrossed Dragons

  Riding Lightning

  Grinding Frost

  Swallowing Fire

  Pounding Earth

  The Crimson Fold

  Until Midnight

  Until Dawn

  Until Sunset

  Curse of the Fairy Tales

  Rapunzel Untamed

  Her Angels

  Heaven’s Embrace

  Heaven’s A Beach

  Heaven’s Most Wanted

  House of Durand

  Indebted to the Vampires

  Wanted by the Vampires

  Protected by the Vampires

  Academy of Witches

  Witching On A Star

  As You Witch

  Witch You Were Here

  Just Witch It

  Granting Her Wish

  Vampire CEO

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  This one is dedicated to my husband. My favorite asshole in all the land. I wouldn’t want to irritate anyone else but you.

  Chapter 1

  Balefire

  Why did the humans love springtime so much? The birds were singing. Irritating. The flowers were blooming. Which meant I kept sneezing. One would think any sane rational person would want to stay inside where there weren't people everywhere. That's what I normally did.

  Except today.

  Today was the annual festival of choosing. Humans from all over the Fae Court of Spring would be competing in events to earn a place in the palace. My home. Not as part of the royal court because that would be ridiculous. A human at court? I'd rather dive headfirst into a basilisk's mouth. No, these humans were scrambling all over themselves to serve me. Balefire, the King of the Spring Court.

  I took over for my father, King Wyrn, who had retired a few weeks ago. Which was the only way I was ever going to be king. Fae didn't die. Not unless someone killed them. Unfortunately, that happened on more occasions that I would have liked. Some humans just couldn't be happy with their place.

  My nose drew up in a grimace as my eyes scanned around the marketplace. Rotten ungrateful cretins. They scurried to and fro like little mice, but unlike real mice, the humans were stupid. They didn't know well enough to be scared of the cats watching them, waiting to pounce if they so much as came close.

  “Do you really think this is wise? Flittering about outside the castle.” My groomsman, Finch, interrupted my thoughts as he gripped at me for the twelfth time since we left the palace.

  Finch was a man of six hundred and fifty but to humans he would only seem about thirty with his dark curly hair brushing his shoulders and piercing green eyes. Some of the fae women at court have mooned over him on more than one occasion. However, Finch took his job seriously. Some would say too seriously.

  He was only half a decade older than me, but he still treated me like a child. I wouldn’t had even brought him along, but he insisted. Hovering bastard. I couldn’t fault him though. Finch has been with me since I was a lad. Now that I was King, he was my closest confidant and friend. Even when he was annoying me like now.

  "If someone is going to be working in my home, I would like to know who they are." I narrowed my eyes at the humans running their businesses while unaware of their king only feet away from them.

  Finch frowned, his forehead bunching together. "But you could have met them when they arrived, just like your father and his father before that. There was no reason to dress up like a commoner and glamour your princely features so. You are putting yourself in unnecessary danger."

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I was a king now. Kings should be more mature than that. At least, my father was, and I strove to be an even better king than him.

  "I'm in no danger," I reminded him, shifting my stance so I didn't look as intimidating. "No one will even recognize me, and if you had changed your features as well, there would be no suspicion at all. Now, who's the one putting us at risk?"

  Finch's lips twisted into a grimace. "You know I hate glamours. It makes my skin feel too tight. And it itches." He lifted and lowered his shoulders as if trying to scratch an invisible itch.

  Shaking my head at him, I turned back to the market. I had no worries about being discovered. While I had kept my body's structure similar, with large broad shoulders, a slim waist, and long legs, my predominant family features, golden skin and locks paired with sky blue eyes, were missing. In their place was a mossy head of hair, dull brown eyes, and a crooked nose. My skin had lost its sheen, and my tattoos have been covered by my long-sleeved tan shirt that I made sure was buttoned to the collar. I'd have covered them with a glamour as well, but Finch's gasp of horror was too much to handle.

  "You can't hide your heritage! That's blasphemy." Finch had followed it up with a clucking of his tongue. I swore he was more like a mother hen than a fae man. Sometimes I wondered why I even kept him around.

  "Very well," Finch conceded with a reluctant sigh. "If we must do this, let us get it over with. How about we check out the household cleaners? The brownies have a section set up over there to test the humans’ skills before selecting the best candidate for the job." He sniffed and brushed some invisible lint from his shirt. "You know how picky those brownies can be. Obsessed with cleaning as they are."

>   Not wanting to argue anymore, I nodded to my well-meaning servant and allowed Finch to lead me to the brownies in a nearby building. The mud-colored fae walked up and down the aisle as they looked down their cut off noses at the humans' work. They had tables of silver dishes set up on each table and the humans scrubbed and polished until their fingers were raw. I knew that even that level of work wouldn't impress a brownie. They would reluctantly choose someone simply because they must, but behind closed doors, they would complain about how inept the humans were at basic cleaning tasks.

  After standing there for several minutes, I dropped my arms from where I had them crossed and turned my head toward a delicious smell. Without announcing my departure, my feet moved toward the smell out of the building and toward a stand where several humans were preparing to create pies. Half a dozen fruit and meat pies were already on display on another table and I hurried to it as my stomach rumbled.

  A fae woman stood behind the wooden table, her pale curly locks twisted upon her head and her head bent over a clipboard. Reaching a hand out, I started for some kind of berry pie, but before my fingers could curl around the pan, a sharp snap hit the top of my knuckles. Holding my hand, I growled at the fae woman.

  "No touching, peasant. These are for the king. Not the likes of you." Her violet eyes glared at me, and I almost laughed at the irony. "Now, go wait over there with the rest of the rabble. We are about to begin the baking contest."

  "Baking contest?" I arched a brow at the humans behind her fretting over their bowls and ingredients. "I didn't know we were in need of a new baker?"

  The fae woman gave me a strange look. "The king is in need of a new one. Yes. Now get. I have things to do that don't involve talking to the likes of you."

  My fingers curled into fists at her words. How dare she raise her voice to me? And with such rudeness. I had half a mind to throw her in the dungeon but then Finch jogged over to me and I remembered I was supposed to be in disguise.

  "There you are, your... uh I mean, Angus." Finch's eyes slid over to the fae woman and then back to me before clearing his throat. "Don't walk off like that. I thought you got swept away by one of those brownies. They're fierce when they're cleaning." He let out a little nervous chuckle as he shook his head.

  The fae woman had stopped gripping at me to stare at Finch, her eyes unblinking.

  "What's this?" Finch asked, turning to the table of pies. "Oh, pies. These look great."

  Blinking rapidly, the fae woman opened and shut her mouth before hurrying to say, "Yes, they're for the king." She paused and a blush covered her cheeks. "You're Lord Finch, aren't you?"

  Finch looked up from the pies and gave her a bright smile causing her to blush deeper. "Yes, I am. And who are you?" He reached over the table and took her hand lifting it to his mouth.

  "Vignette." She giggled and dipped her head. "I'm the head baker and have been appointed to select some new girls for the palace."

  "Ah, if I'd known such beauty were living right under my nose,” he said slyly, “I'd have spent more time in the kitchens. Something I will be sure to remedy as soon as I return to the palace."

  I lifted my eyes to the sky at Finch's cheesy line. He could be a serious uptight bastard, but he had more women in his bed in a week than I had all my life. I bumped his shoulder to remind him of why we were here, and Finch dropped her hand.

  Clearing his throat, he adjusted his shirt sleeves before turning down that flirtatious smile. "My apologies. We're here to help pick the new bakers. As you know, King Balefire is extremely particular about who handles his food and wants to be sure that whoever is chosen won't try to poison him."

  Vignette paled, her eyes darting from Finch to me and back. She wasn't blushing now. I had that effect on people. I might be an attractive bastard, but most of the people were too scared of me to get to know me, which I preferred. I didn't need friends. I had subjects. Then one day we would find a politically benefiting wife for me who would rule by my side. That was what my father did, and my parents were the happiest couple I'd ever seen.

  "His Majesty isn't coming, is he?" Vignette’s eyes moved around the market searching for my golden figure no doubt. "No one said he would be coming today. I would have worn something different if I'd known." She ran her hands over the apron covering it in flour and brushed some hair behind her ears, her hands shaking the whole time.

  I winced. Maybe I could lighten up on the fear a bit.

  "No, no. He's not here." Finch reassured her keeping his eyes firmly off of me. "Please do not worry yourself. We are simply here to observe in his place. King Balefire is far too busy with running the Spring Court to come down here." This time he did slid his eyes over to me the corner of his lips quirking up as he verbally poked at me.

  Tired of this conversation, I leaned on the table and growled, "So, when does it start?" I gestured my free hand to the humans behind her. "Are these it? They don't look like much."

  Vignette turned to contestants and frowned. "We seem to be missing one, but I can assure you they were fully vetted before they got to this stage. Only the best of each town was allowed to come here. As you can see, we already narrowed it down to only six, minus the one who will be disqualified, if they don't arrive soon." She glanced down at her clipboard and then called out. "Ericka? Is an Ericka Burner here, yet?"

  No one answered, but a couple of the human women behind her giggled and whispered behind their hands. Suspicious. Then one of the human women, a redhead with too pale of skin and too many spots on her face, walked over to Vignette.

  "Um, excuse me." Her voice was high pitched and made my ears hurt.

  "What is it?" Vignette asked with an irritated scowl. "We are about to start. There's no time to go back for anything now."

  "No, no." The redhead grinned and swayed from side to side as she giggled. "I just wanted to tell you that I don't think Ericka is coming. She was still sleeping when we left the loft." Her eyes slyly slid back to the others. "She was drinking pretty heavily last night. I don't know about her, but I would think someone who wants this important of a job to have more self-restraint the night before the competition."

  Vignette scoffed. "Humans! All of you are controlled by your baser instincts. I don't know how you've survived this long." The redhead didn't seem bothered by Vignette’s comments. Not that Vignette had much room to talk as an idiot could see through the ploy the other human women were playing. "Fine. Ericka is out. Let's get started."

  "Perhaps give her a few more minutes," Finch offered clearly, having caught onto the game as well. Vignette frowned at Finch's suggestion, but with a flash of that dazzling smile of his, she was all eyelashes and simpering smiles.

  "Alright. It wouldn't hurt to wait a few more minutes." Vignette giggled as the redhead huffed and stomped back to her friends. Vignette and Finch flirted for a few more minutes until I was becoming nauseated just by standing near them.

  I coughed loudly. Then when it still didn't dissuade them, I did it again, but this time, I also bumped Finch, almost knocking him over. I gave him a small shrug. I couldn't help that he wasn't on his guard. He should know better.

  Her face turning beet red, Vignette glanced down at her watch and her eyes widened. "Oh, my is that the time? We need to get started." Her eyes glanced around the group and then sighed with exasperation. "Is this it then?"

  At the same time that the redhead and her friends said, "Yes," another voice filled with panic and slightly out of breath screamed, "I'm here! I'm here!"

  I turned but instead of seeing the person behind the yelling, my senses were overpowered by blueberry pie. The goopy insides covered my eyes and nose, sliding down my face to plop on my shoes.

  "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry." The voice cried out and a small hand swiped at my face, pulling some of the goop out of my way. "There was a rock and then my foot found it and then it was all just bad, bad, bad."

  I opened my mouth to tell the woman rambling exactly what I thought of her excuses, but the blueber
ry pie filling slid into my mouth. Licking my lips, I swallowed. Not bad.

  "Ericka!" Vignette cried out with outrage. "Where have you been? Do you have any idea who these people are?"

  "I'm sorry, Vignette," Ericka rambled, her hands stilling on my face. "My alarm didn't go off and then I couldn't find my mixing bowl. On top of that, I had to remake my pie. Someone had sat the first one on the floor where I conveniently stepped on it."

  My vision was finally cleared enough to see a petite little brunette glaring over at the gaggle of other bakers. Ericka's hair was haphazardly tied on top of her head in a messy bun with what looked like a pencil shoved through it. A long line of flour covered her left cheek. Her dark lashes surrounding her almost black eyes were sprinkled with a bit of white powder, making her look more like something that should be in a pie rather than making it. She was a complete and utter mess. Not someone I'd want working in my home even if I was a pauper and not the king.

  Rage and humiliation filled my chest, and I opened my mouth to tell her such, but Finch stepped in handing me a handkerchief. "Ah, you must be Ericka. We've heard great things about you."

  Ericka's eyes darted from Vignette to Finch and then to me her mouth gaping open. "Uh, hi. Not to be rude, but who are you?"

  "You imbecile." Vignette hissed coming around the table to grab Ericka by the arm. "They're from the palace. Lord Finch is the personal adviser to the king."

  I watched with great satisfaction for her to realize who she was talking to and waited for that horror and shame to cross her face... and waited... and waited. This little twig of a human didn't so much bat an eyelash.

  "It's nice to meet you, Lord Finch and..." Her eyes landed on me and winced. "I am so sorry again about your face, Mister...?"

  "Angus," Finch provided for me, his eyes locking onto the human before us. "He's my assistant." I choked on my own saliva. When Finch smacked me on the back, I glared. "Don't mind us. We'll just be watching from the sidelines. Please proceed with the contest and good luck." He winked at Vignette before ushering me to the other side of the tables where the rest of the bakers were already set up.