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Authors: Shona Husk

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BOOK: The Outcast Prince
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Nine years ago she’d tested the story and summoned the Goblin King.

Eliza stared into his eyes. Aching blue. How could she forget? “You gave it to me when I was a teenager.”

His face went blank. Her heart skipped, then raced. The unchecked lust was less terrifying than this new, unreadable expression. At least she’d known what he wanted. Now…

She let the words spill out before he could shut her up for good. “I called you, you broke up the party. Do you remember? You sent the boys running.” The lights had gone out and goblin howls had filled the house. For a few minutes she’d lived in a nightmare full of screams and darkness. She’d never told her brother it was she who’d called the monsters. She’d never told him why, or what his friend had done.

“You protected me. I put the leftover beer outside to thank you. Do you remember?”

She remembered him. The faded dream grew stronger and the features of the man who’d saved her nine years ago became the features of the man above her. The full lips, straight nose, and blue eyes that would always be hungry. This man was the Goblin King.

“You took me to the Summerland and gave me the bead.” He’d given her the bead to make sure she didn’t forget. Had he? “Do you remember?” She willed him to remember.

The man didn’t blink. His eyes burned into her soul as if he was searching for a lie that didn’t exist. She’d gone to the Summerland many times in her dreams as a teenager waiting to see if she’d see him again. Not sure if she’d dreamed him into existence, but too scared to directly summon him and find out.

Eliza sucked in a breath but couldn’t release it. Panic swelled until her chest hurt. “This is a dream.”

It had to be a dream, but he had never been in her dreams no matter how much she thought of him. If not for his bead, it would have been easier to think she’d imagined the whole thing. But he hadn’t allowed her that illusion. And she hadn’t been able to let go of the memory. Now the warrior she’d dreamed of was made flesh.

“Why did you call me?” he demanded.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Steve. The party. The woman. The suits. The wine. Oh God. She had called him. She had called the Goblin King.

Again.

“Why?” He released her hands but still caged her body. He was a prison made of flesh, and he demanded answers like a lawyer cross-examining a witness. “I warned you.”

She hadn’t thought of his warning at the time, but the words echoed through her mind now:
Next time I may not return you.

She looked up at the man she’d often thought of before life had gotten in the way and she’d given up on childish fantasies and fairy tales. His gaze was hot, the lust simmering behind the frown that scarred his brow.

“I wanted to escape.” It was the only answer she had. Living with Steve and his lies was like suffocating—it was only a matter of time until she died.

“Then you got your wish.” His mouth closed hard over hers, stealing the air from her lungs.

She pushed against him, fighting the kiss. The first time she’d called him, he’d protected her. That’s what she longed for—someone to make her feel safe, to care about her and listen to her. Not another man to use her for whatever he wanted. She hiccupped on a strangled sob. How could she have messed this up so much?

He jerked away as if her tears burned his skin. Freed, she lurched to her feet and ran. Ran because the memories couldn’t be real, ran because she wanted to wake up, ran not caring where she went. Her memories didn’t mesh with reality. Her warrior had been caring, where this man was harsh and dangerous. Eliza passed another man in black and gray camo. He reached for her and she twisted away.

“Let her go,” the king called out, his voice ringing down the rock halls.

She ran through candlelit tunnels. Her lungs ached, her head pounded, but then she saw the cave opening and ran faster. This was just another crazy dream, the dangerous imaginings of a desperate woman.

Fifteen feet beyond the cave Eliza stopped. He hadn’t brought her to the Summerland. This place was empty. There was no sun. No stars. No moon. Just a gray twilight that was both oppressive and endless. Twisted trees grew out of gray dust, their limbs a tangle of blackened fingers. An oily river snaked into the distance. She squinted. Did it move, or was that an illusion?

As she stood there staring at the bleak scenery, her feet and legs became heavy and cold, as if the ground was sucking the warmth from her body and making her muscles sluggish. She looked down. The gray dust that was the ground stained the white bandages on her feet. Someone had tended to her, yet she couldn’t remember hurting herself.

Eliza turned around. The entrance to the cave was nothing more than a crack in the face of a sheer cliff that rose with no end. There were no clouds to hide its harsh lines and no plants to soften the angles. Her beaded captor leaned against the rock, his arms folded, as impassive as the rock he had made his home.

“What is this place?” Her voice echoed in the empty world.

“The Shadowlands.” His voice didn’t echo. It dropped like a weight and was absorbed into the ground as if he were part of the strange landscape.

The Shadowlands.
The name should mean something to her. She shook her head, unable to find the thought.

“This is a dream.” It had to be. She would wake up with a hangover at home with Steve.

“No.” His lips turned into a smile that cut her to the bone. “A nightmare.”

Eliza’s breath slid from her body and threatened to never return. She did know this place. So alien, yet so familiar. Every nightmare she’d ever had was created here, sired by goblins. The screeching and yells that had broken up the party had haunted her sleep, but it was a nightmare she’d thought she’d grown out of, the same way she’d put aside her dreams.

She glanced at the Goblin King. The first time she’d called him, someone had died. Her brother’s friend Ben, the boy she’d been so desperate to escape, had fled the party in fright. He ended up wrapping his car around a tree on the way home. Whether it was the Goblin King directly, booze, or just reckless driving, she couldn’t help feeling that her wish had caused his death.

Without sound or warning, the dust beneath her feet bubbled and swelled and grew. Eliza stumbled backward. Out of the blister burst Ben.

“You killed me,” Ben accused.

Eliza stepped back again. “This isn’t real.” Yet he looked real. The same as he had on the night of the party—leering and drunk. “None of this is real. It’s a nightmare.”

All she had to do was wake up and all of this would be gone…including the Goblin King. She’d forgotten about him once before. Could she do it again?

She glanced at the warrior leaning against the rock. The memory of his touch lingered on her skin, cool and firm.

Ben moved closer as if he was stalking her once again.

Eliza covered her mouth and shook her head. No. No. No. Not possible. This was a nightmare created by the Shadowlands to torment her. To awaken the guilt she’d thought long buried over Ben’s death.

“It was a car accident. It wasn’t my fault.” She’d never believed those words before, even though she’d wanted to. The old guilt hadn’t gone. It had grown stronger with time.

Ben reached out, almost close enough to touch her. His hands ready to paw at her the way he once had.

She forced out a breath and tried to be calm. None of this existed. It was just a nightmare more vivid than any other she’d ever had. But not real. Ben’s chant closed in around her.

“You called. He came. He killed. For you.” Ben pointed at her, his eyes lit with malice.

Had the Goblin King killed for her, to keep her safe? Or had it been for payment? It was a question she’d never gotten the chance to ask. One she wasn’t sure she wanted to have answered.

Eliza pinched her arm, twisting the skin into a bleached white peak. She didn’t wake.

Two other men joined the watching warrior as Ben drew closer, circling, closing in. There was nowhere for her to go…except back into the rock spire and the embrace of the Goblin King.

“Make it stop.” She twisted away, not wanting Ben to touch her.

The goblin-man shrugged. “Maybe I could, if I were real. If I’m not, then I can’t. If I’m a dream, you should have power over me. If I exist, then I have the power to make every day a living nightmare.” He uncrossed his arms with the grace of a warrior readying for battle. “So, Eliza, do I exist?”

Her lips moved without sound. Did she really want to know what had happened that night? Would she be able to look the man who’d saved her in the eye, knowing he’d killed for her?

She glanced at the man who looked nothing like a goblin and stared into his unforgiving blue eyes, daring him to admit the truth.

“Did you kill Ben?” Was it her fault he had died?

“No,” he answered without pausing for thought.

“Swear you didn’t kill him.”

“If you don’t believe I exist, what do I swear by?”

Ben reached for her hand, the same way he had when she was sixteen. She knew what would happen next. The first kiss had been fun, the next not really. The scent of beer on breath still made her stomach turn.

“You win. You exist.”
Goblins exist.
“Just make it stop.”

Ben disintegrated into nothing more than dust settling on the flat barren landscape.

“I didn’t kill Ben. And I didn’t bring you back to the Shadowlands that night because you didn’t know what you were wishing. But I warned you. You should’ve known better this time.” His words were soft as he picked up a handful of dust. “Listen carefully, Eliza. Everything here is real. And everything here can kill you.” He blew the dust into her face.

Her muscles went lax.

His hands caught her.

“Everything.”

Acknowledgments

I could write a whole list of everyone who touched this book and helped its progress along, but you know who you are. From reading the first draft, to tightening the romance, fixing my commas, giving it a lovely cover, and then marketing it. This book wouldn’t be here without you. Thank you.

About the Author

Shona Husk lives in Western Australia at the edge of the Indian Ocean. Blessed with a lively imagination, she spent most of her childhood making up stories. As an adult she discovered romance novels and hasn’t looked back. Drawing on history and myth, she weaves new worlds and writes heroes who aren’t afraid to get hurt while falling in love.

Lord of the Hunt

by Shona Husk

Raised in the mortal world, the fairy Taryn never planned on going back to Annwyn, much less to Court. But with the power shift imminent, she is her parents’ only hope of securing a pardon from exile and avoiding certain death.

Verden, Lord of the Hunt, swore to serve the King. But as the magic of Annwyn fails and the Prince makes ready to take the throne, Verden knows his days as Hunter are numbered.

When Taryn and Verden meet, their attraction is instant and devastating. Their love could bring down a queen and change the mortal world forever.

Praise for
For the Love of a Goblin Warrior:

“Ms. Husk outdid herself in this book… Once I got into the story, I couldn’t put it down.”—
Night Owl Romance
Reviewer Top Pick

“Husk has an amazing ability to weave a mesmerizing story with a magical dark fairy-tale feel.”—
Love Romance Passion

“An entertaining and unique read. Shona Husk creates a dark yet delightful world where romance and fantasy combine.”—
Romance Reviews

For more of the Shadowlands series, visit:

www.sourcebooks.com

BOOK: The Outcast Prince
9.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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