The Mist Thief

Autorentext

LJ Andrews is a USA Today and Sunday Times bestselling author of fantasy romance. She mystically brings to life worlds of dark Nordic and Viking myths bound by conflicts that bring together impassioned heroes and heroines. In her non-author moments, she is courageously corralling her four children to the myriad of life activities that involves, along with spending time with her favorite hero, her husband. Add two high maintenance dogs and a sassy conure to the mix and that sums it up. LJ Andrews thrives spending time in the Rocky Mountains where she lives in Utah.

To learn more about LJ Andrews and her series, including The Ever Seas, Broken Souls and Bones, Broken Kingdom, and more, please visit her online at https://ljandrews.net

Klappentext

**The third in the TikTok sensation Ever Seas series, now with bonus material!

She tried to kill him, so he made her his wife.**

Skadi first met her husband-to-be with blades in hand on the opposite side of a battle. She lost, and he claimed his prize.

To her horror, the king of the shadow elven agrees to marry her off to Jonas, a prince in the fae realms, as a way to unite their kingdoms against a shared enemy—the light elves. Skadi knows the marriage is nothing but a political game. Feelings won’t come into play.

Except her new husband makes not falling in love . . . challenging.

When new threats arise, Skadi must decide to either love her enemy or keep him alive by betraying him to another.

Leseprobe
1

The Mist Thief

Being on the losing side of a battle was shit.

Victors always chose the reparation prizes, and they were wretched, in my limited experience. Prizes like unwitting brides to vicious princes with a score to settle.

I blew out a long breath. Some of the elven plum wine I kept tipping over my lips churned in my belly. One palm braced against a stone wall, I waited for it to settle before continuing down the dark, cobbled path. With the moon half-hidden by soupy clouds, now was my only chance at freedom.

When fae armies attacked the isle of the shadow elven-my folk-there'd been no choice but to raise a blade. Now my life had been purchased for glory and a bit of petty revenge.

By tomorrow's sunset, I would have a husband.

I was already drunk enough that the thought now brought out despondent chuckles more than hidden tears in the night.

What a tale I would recite to the littles someday-for there was no doubt heirs would be part of this damning alliance-bright-eyed young ones looking up at me as I told them the romantic tale of the day their father came for me.

Maj, tell me your love story.

Ah, little one, let me tell you how your father whisked me away into the sunset, complete with shackles and promises of blissful hate for the rest of our days.

I snorted and took another foolish sip of wine before tossing the small vial into the dark leaves of a briar shrub, then pulled the woolen hood over the starlight silver of my braids.

My future husband was taking me as a wife for no reason save my former betrothed was the prince of the Ljosalfar, the light elven clan. Prince Arion was the one who raised battle against the sea fae-allies to my future husband.

All I could puzzle through was since Arion fled after the battles, it meant I became the next best target for enemies to exact revenge.

Heated frustration boiled in my veins. I nearly stumbled when I tried to kick at a pebble in the soil, wine still heady in my skull.

My crimes in all this were being wholly naive and not seeing Arion's moves before he made them. But I was dangerous in my own right.

Arion desired me as his wife for the same reason as the fae-to use the darkness in my blood as his blade. Doubtless, my future husband would claim my affinity for himself after he'd broken me.

My affinity-the magic the gods saw fit to curse me with-was too unstable, too treacherous, to be left untethered. But to bind me through vows would create an unbreakable bond with my new kin.

There was a long-standing belief in our lore that elven could not bring harm to their kin without marking their souls in darkness.

I wasn't certain I believed it anymore. Seemed like there was plenty of kin-harming going around as of late.

My fists clenched until my fingernails ached across my palms.

Fae and other curious clans of magics were tangles of familial connections throughout their kingdoms. To make me their kin, in theory, would keep the whole of their realms protected from any threat of my dark affinity.

I ducked into the hedge, careful to avoid any main roads; I cursed Arion with every prick of a thorn, every snag of a branch in my silver braids.

This was his bleeding fault. Perhaps the cowardly prince should be the one being sold off as the pawn in a vow alliance. But Arion was tucked away in his glittering palace in Grynstad, the isle of the light elves, probably still sulking he didn't get his way while leaving me to shoulder his stupidity.

Tomorrow fate would deliver her sharp knife, but tonight was mine to live as I desired.

I emerged from the thorny hedgerow on the backside of a longhouse made of pale stones. Perhaps, if I were to get caught, my new clan would see me as too disorderly and rescind their offer of vows.

I snickered with bitterness.

No doubt, should I be caught by my future husband or his people, they would simply tighten the tethers.

Outside the back door, I removed the hood and secured a linen scarf over my head, the way most of the sea fae kept their hair free of their eyes. I plucked out the silver rings lining the whole edge of each of my sharply pointed ears.

With the tip of my thumb, I ran inky kohl under my eyes-a style of most sweaty sailors on the ships of the Ever Kingdom.

The land of sea fae was playing host for the alliance signing in a show of good faith, so it was the sea folk I would pretend to be tonight.

My borrowed boots were too large, and heavy buckles clinked on each step. With a silk scarf, I fashioned a patch over one eye.

When a twig snapped in the hedgerow behind me, I spun around. The night was empty. There was nothing but the vibrant stars, the glitter of the tiered golden palace of the sea fae on the hill, and a few splashes from playful merfolk in the surf near the docks.

Inside the tavern, boisterous sea fae sang cheery shanties of sirens and spirits of the far seas. Privateers, merchants, off-duty guards, dockmen, and a few unashamed pirates filled the tables. Some tossed wooden dice, others clanked polished drinking horns against the other. There were women who sat on the laps of lovers, while others looked as brutish with their blades and trousers as any man.

Since the Ever Queen stole the heart of the wicked king and was crowned, the women of the Ever Kingdom were bolder.

Or so I heard.

I took a bit of strength from them tonight.

The docile, obedient elven princess could crawl into the shadows for now and make way for a bold sea fae woman fresh off the tides who was looking for a bit of debauchery and diversion.

When no one glanced my way, when no palace guards rushed from the alcoves to drag me back to my chambers, I accepted my disguise as adequate and approached the long counter, sticky with spilled ale and what smelled like old bile.

Tables were filled, but most seats at the counter were empty. Only the aleman stood behind the edge, scrubbing drinking horns. On the last seat, leaning one shoulder against the wall, was a hunched man in a thick canvas cloak with a straw hat tipped low on his brow.

I aimed for the far end away from the drunkard.

A man with a floppy brim hat grunted a rough "Pardon" when we collided.

I skirted around him, on the path nearer to the center seats. Fine enough. All I needed was a bit of…