Chapter 1: Two Kings, One Girl

Flashes of red and silver through the trees caught Violet Bellerose's eye. Horse hooves thundered through the forest underbrush. Startled deer and squirrels bounded ahead on either side of the riverbank. The punt kept its lazy course on the water.

"Faster!" she commanded the captain.

He looked her dead in the eye and pulled the steering pole from the water. The small boat ran aground as horses emerged from the trees. Their riders bore the emblem of Ipsit—the neighboring kingdom to hers, Basharr.

Violet reached for her bow, but the captain thrust the steering pole to her chest. "They'd rather you alive than dead, but I get paid for delivery either way."

"You knew who I was this whole time," she guessed.

He nodded, greed plastering his face. "News travels fast, especially when magic is involved."

A new rider, tall and broad-shouldered, parted the sea of horses. His blue eyes shimmered in the sun, fixating on Violet with a hunger she knew only a blood elf could possess. His dark hair fell over his ears—she wondered if the rumors of the blood elves was true…had their bloodlust turned their pointed ears round?

"Are you Violet Bellerose? The commoner with magic?" he demanded.

She didn't move.

"Put her on a horse," he ordered. "We need to make it back to the border quickly."

Soldiers wrestled her out of the punt while another paid the captain. She watched him float away with her precious bow and quiver, the work of many days and nights. A horse was brought, and Violet clambered on.

"I'm King Curzon of Ipsit and I have been searching for you for a very long time, Violet," he said, positioning his horse next to hers in the center of the procession. "You're going to make me the most powerful monarch in all the elven realms."

"That doesn't sound like me. I'm not that generous."

In the blink of an eye, he snatched her wrist, squeezing so tight she could feel the bruises forming. "You will respect your better, commoner."

"I was raised to respect my king," Violet replied, leaning in. "You're not him."

Curzon's fangs lengthened, catching the light. His breath was at her neck. "All it would take is one bite and you would be mine."

"One bite and my magic disappears." She showed him her neck. "Be my guest."

The truth hurt. Blood magic and essence magic didn't mix and Curzon knew it. He looked ready to tear her from the horse and let it trample her, but a horn sounded, taking his attention. His men surrounded Violet and Curzon, raising swords and spears. The air turned damp and heavy; clouds settled into the treetops. A charge sounded as riders clad in black and gold appeared with a tall elf on a spotted horse leading them. Violet couldn't take her eyes off him. His white hair hung long past his shoulders and a gold crown sat on his brow. His amber eyes carried spun gold inside as if the sun had settled within his gaze for a moment.

"The king," she whispered.

"Kill him!" Curzon shouted.

Clanging swords filled the forest. Metal scraped against metal as the soldiers fought. An Ipsit soldier speared a Basharr guard. War cries filled Violet's ears. Horses bereft of their riders took to the trees. Basharr's king locked eyes with Violet, sending a wave of hope down her spine. He knocked down soldier after soldier, heading straight for her. The tide was turning in favor of the newcomers.

Curzon drew his sword. "Your pathetic storm magic doesn't scare me!"

"You're on my land, Curzon!" replied the king. "My storms are stronger here and you know it! Let the girl go."

Curzon got down from his horse and forced Violet to do the same. He dragged her into the forest, leaving the battle sounds behind. Basharr's king followed.

"The border is too far, Curzon. You should've planned your raid better."

Violet crashed through bushes, scraping her legs. A branch whipped at her cheek. Curzon pulled her into a sunny clearing. But the sun soon melted behind a wall of mist.

The white-haired king strode before the mist, sword in hand, lightning crackling in the other. Bolts shot into Curzon, wrapping around his chest. He screamed with pain. His sword became a conductor, enveloping him in electricity. He crumpled to the ground.

"Are you alright?"

Violet realized he was talking to her. She pulled her gaze from one elven king to another. "Better than him." She recalled who she was speaking to. "Um, King Eden."

His expression remained stoic. "Who are you? What did Curzon want with you?"

She hesitated. Her magic put her in danger. Only the nobles and royalty were supposed to have such powers. And worse, hers acted like an amplifier to other's abilities. This might be her king, but she couldn't trust him not to use her the same way Curzon intended. The elites only saw commoners like her as playthings, not people. She would not be responsible for creating an unstoppable monarch.

"My name is Violet. I'm from Basharr. I don't know what he wanted—he just took me."

King Eden was unreadable. Those amber eyes scanned her, but she had no idea what he was thinking. "You wouldn't lie to your king, would you, Violet?"

Thunder rumbled beneath his deep voice, dropping it another octave.

"No, my king."

"We'll see. The battle is over. Come this way," he said, turning back into the trees.

Before she could decide whether to follow, Curzon rose from the earth like a shadow, sword raised over his head. He charged Eden.

"Look out!" Violet cried, scrambling to tackle Curzon. His cloak slipped through her fingers.

Eden whirled around. Their swords met with a sharp ring. Eden parried Curzon's wild strokes before landing a blow to his shoulder. The blood king howled and staggered back.

"This isn't over," he seethed, letting the shadows of the forest envelop him.

Eden didn't go after him.

"You're letting him go?"

"I don't hunt wounded animals," he answered, sheathing his sword. "But I know how to reward loyalty. Your warning saved us both."

"You're my king. I did my duty," Violet replied, trying not to notice the way his muscles moved beneath his tunic. It wasn't easy.

"Nevertheless, I'd like you to return to the city with me to receive a proper 'thank you.'"

Violet couldn't hold back a smirk. "This isn't just so you can keep an eye on me, is it?"

The aloof mask melted for a second, turning up the corners of his mouth ever-so-slightly. "Perhaps I simply enjoy spending time with beautiful women."

"You had to travel this far to find a beautiful woman? The city sounds terrible, my king."

His lips parted to reply, still holding the whisper of a smile, before one of his guards appeared out of the brush.

"King Eden! We've secured the area. The Ipsit invaders have been returned to their side of the border."

Eden's mask returned as he gave orders to the soldier. Violet watched the king return, stiff shoulders, commanding voice, every inch the responsible Monarch. She wondered what else he hid beneath the mask of royalty.

He turned back to her. "There are horses waiting near the river. Will you come with me?"

She had a choice—return to her village where her family had made it clear how they felt about her secret and the peril it put them in or follow a king to his court.

"King Eden, you're dangerous," she said.

"How so?" he asked.

"I don't know yet," Violet answered, "but I think I'm about to find out."