Prophecy of the Halfling King

By Amara Lebel

Love Knows No Bounds . . .

Caymeron’s life has never been his own. Born to a hated prophecy, he hides from the world for fear of destroying it, sacrificing the one thing his kind cherish more than life itself—their fated mates. Or in Caymeron’s case, the world’s destruction.

Elizabeth has always been free to enjoy life, yet things are about to change as her coming-of-age celebrations near. Times are hard, and the young lady finds herself sold to the highest bidder. Her future husband is a tyrant detested by all.

Not all is lost for these two, however, as their lives collide in this fast-paced romance of historical proportions.

Will they find true love, and enjoy their happy ever after? Or will life take a turn for the worst, dooming them fore’er more?

PUBLISHER NOTE: Fantasy Paranormal Romance. 77,000 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Luminosity Publishing LLP
• Release date: Sep 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005461386

Amara Lebel

I am an Erotic Romance and ManLove author. A huge fan of all things male; I watch, read and drool over everything to do with them. Yes, I am a little perverted, yet in a good way. I have a vast Yaoi collection, and spend my time fantasising about steamy scenes of male love, sensual encounters, and so much more.With a little encouragement, I eventually put pen to paper and wrote my first ever MM romance which was published in Sept 2014. Now I take great pride in sharing my erotic stories of forbidden lust and enchanted romance with all of you, my fellow depraved sensualists.A true Irish lass born and raised, I come from a small town in Northern Ireland, where I now live with my handsome, French hubby and gorgeous family. I’m a full-time mum of three and believe me when I say they keep me busy. I spend my days chasing after my lil’ darlings, my nights lost in Yaoi, and thanks to my amazing husband I spend my weekends writing up a storm.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Realm of Ash and Bone, Upper Region of Hell

Brother, come on. If you tarry any longer Father will rip you from this place and burn it to ash. The females are awaiting your arrival.

Caym sat on the marble balcony of his mother’s library with his back pressed against the open door. His favourite copy of The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde clutched in hand. He cared not for his sire’s soirees. He had no intention of leaving this solace, nor of finding a bride. Leave me be, Brother. You know how I feel about all of this. The silence which followed told him that Tanlor understood. Yet, it was not up to his brother to free him of his fated responsibilities. As the eldest son, the mantle of King would pass to Caym when the time came for their father to step down. Not that he wished to take the damn throne.

Caym despised his demon half, he wanted nothing to do with his sire’s minions nor this realm. If he could, he would leave and ne’er return. He wanted to see beyond the walls of this place, to know his mother’s realm, and her people—to be free. But, regardless of his parentage, or diluted blood, he was royalty and he would rule. It was what his sire had been training him for, after all. Caym had been held captive down in this hellish fortress since the day of his birth, and his poor mother had no choice in the matter. Tumzahl had forced his will upon her and brought Catherine here to birth him an heir. She died, just as Caym had taken his first breath. ’Twas his fault she was no longer here, yet he had come to terms with it, acknowledging her sacrifice for what it was. Her love for him. ’Twas the only thing that kept him going.

Caym, I feel for you, brother mine. Yet denying our sire will get you nothing but pain. He will punish you for challenging him. Let us go greet the females, feign interest, and then leave. No harm done.

Easier said than done. Entertaining the females was not the issue. The issue lay in the consequences of mayhap stumbling upon his fated mate. Something of which his brother knew well. Caym was no fool. He was aware of his bloodline’s prophecy. The one in which he would lose his battle with the darkness and destroy the world. All thanks to his fated lady love. "No harm done. Brother, forget not that I am the Halfling King. Fated to find love, then watch the world burn to ash with a smile upon my face. I am ne’er to find happiness."

Slamming his head back against the door, Caym growled low in frustration. Those females be dangerous to my health. If one of them is meant for me, what is to prevent my mind from becoming addled? I wish no part in the world’s destruction. Now leave me. I shall take whate’er punishment Father deems fit for my slight.

Tanlor heaved a frustrated sigh, a heavy thud echoing throughout the empty library as his fist obviously made impact with the locked door. I shall not watch you kill yourself. I will inform Father of your immediate arrival. Do not let me down, Brother.

With a curse, Caym jumped to his feet intending to throttle his younger sibling. He did not wish to deal with this right now. Something deep within his aching soul was warning him of things to come. Bad things. Dark things. ’Twas best for all if he remained within the confines of his solace until this gnawing feeling ebbed. Yet as he threw open the door to chastise his stubborn brother, ’twas not the younger demon he came face-to-face with, but his father’s lunatic seer, Eri.

Caymeron, son of Tumzahl. She awaits your arrival.

Caym frowned. He knew not of which she spoke, and he hated being called by that filthy name. ’Twas a demon’s name, one he refused to acknowledge. He was Caym, son of Catherine. A human. Not a demon. Anger bubbled in his gut as he glared at his sire’s crone. Do not call me thus, seer. Not unless you wish for me to remove your tongue. The female chuckled, her milky eyes wild. He had always found them abhorrent, much like the rest of her. Caym was unsure why the female looked as she did. The demons of this realm were all beautiful beyond words, except her. The crone preferred to wear the guise of a haggard human with maggots eating away her cheek cavities and mangy black hair which fell out in clumps. She was disgusting, and she revelled in the fact.

That aside, Caym still had no clue what she spoke of, or what exactly was going on here? Before he could question the old crone, howe’er, she blew a white substance into his eyes, blinding him. On a roar, he thrashed as he tried to regain his equilibrium. Damn you, female. I shall have your head for this. Reaching out blindly, he snagged her arm, growling in warning as he tried to remove her from his path.

Do not fight it, boy. Your fate is upon you.

That voice, he recognised that deep, raspy voice. Sire? What is this? Caym panicked, rubbing frantically at his eyes in order to clear his vision. He had learned at a young age ne’er to let his guard down around his demon born sire. The male was vicious and cared not if one was his blood. He treated all with the same brutal contempt. If he did not recover quickly, his sire could very well have his throat. On a curse, Caym scrubbed at his eyes harder, blinking rapidly to discard the substance burning his irises. Yet it was futile, he saw naught.

We have found your fated female. I thought you would be pleased.

His heart stilled at those words. No! It could not be. Caym knew his sire was desperate to release the beast, yet he did not think the male would go this far. To hunt down his mate like this, to force Caym into this position, it was calculating and cruel. Stepping back away from Tumzahl, Caym fought to control his emotions. He refused to show the bastard how much he had hurt him with this treachery. I will not mate her. I will not become the destruction you crave. This is all for naught.

His father’s deep laugh rumbled off the finely carved stone walls. You have no choice. You are my spawn, Caymeron, and your destiny was decided centuries ago. You shall do my bidding, boy, and wreak havoc on mankind.

No! He refused. Caym was not the demon his sire wished him to be. The darkness within was silent. Restrained by his gentler, human side. His better half. His mother’s light. His sire was the only being who seemed to provoke the monster within, and Caym swore that he would ne’er give over control to either his father or the demon.

Come now, boy, enough of this stupidity. The crone has found your mate. The key to the Earth realm’s destruction. You will go to her, and you will claim your queen.

Still blind from the crone’s trickery, Caym tried to flee. He did not want this. He would rather die than be the cause of such unnecessary bloodshed and loss of life. He was no monster, he refused to give in. When strong hands fell upon his shoulders, Caym fought. His sire was powerful, handling him with ease, yet it did not mean he would give up the fight, howe’er.

And that was exactly what he did. Fight.

He kicked and clawed, hissing as the crone fisted his jaw to force some foul liquid down his throat. Caym spat out the potion forced into his mouth, continuing to fight blindly. He bit, kicked, and clawed as he felt a dark power surge around them. What is that?

You know exactly what it is, my boy. His sire’s deep voice rumbled. ’Tis a portal, one leading directly to your female.

What? No! Who had summoned it? The only one capable of opening a portal of such magnitude was his brother, Tanlor. Caym’s eyes snapped toward the male in question, his vision clearing from the crone’s attack. The younger demon stood hidden in shadow, his face crestfallen and eyes pleading for forgiveness. Caym groaned in defeat. No matter how much he hated this, he refused to give his sire a reason to beat on Tanlor. Heart heavy, Caym offered his brother a small smile as his body began to give out from exhaustion. I . . . understand.

Tanlor reached for him, but ’twas too late. His sire tossed him across the threshold, and as darkness closed in, Caym’s heart ached for the betrayal he had suffered at the hands of his kin.

CHAPTER ONE

Cambridge, England, 1900

’Twas the stench of rot and faeces that woke him. A scent so strong ’twas a palpable thing. Caym could taste the foul fumes upon his tongue. It caused his gut to clench, and as he rolled onto his side, he gagged and choked. His lungs screamed for fresh air. Yet, only the stale scent of death met him. Panting hard, Caym pried his eyes open to survey his surroundings. ’Twas dark and dank. The sound of scurrying feet reverberated off the high ceiling walls to blend with the grunts and groans of the human residents. Where was this place? A prison mayhap? ’Twas difficult to tell. The small room was windowless. It held naught but a single pallet on the dirt-packed floor. There was no light, no comfort, and only a single exit.

Forcing himself upright, Caym slowly made his way toward the large wooden door which blocked his way to the outside world. The sounds of the distressed humans intensified. Where am I? he wondered yet again. Why would his sire send him here? Would his fated one be one of the deranged humans hollering for help outside? He hoped not. Yet now was not the time to worry over such things. Caym needed to get out of here and regain his strength.

Fighting to calm his breathing, he closed his eyes, opening his mind to his surroundings. Screams and ramblings pricked at his sixth sense. It was near overwhelming, and Caym did not wish to pry any deeper. Yet curiosity, and a deep sated survival instinct, forced his hand. Opening his mind fully to those around him, Caym had to clench his jaw tight to keep his own screams at bay. Pain. Suffering. Torture. Confusion. Nothing more than animals. Mistreated. Abused. They wished for relief and vengeance. Violence. So much angst and frustration. He could feel it all. ’Twas no prison, but something much worse. Caym had no business here. He needed to be gone from this place.

Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the only place he knew within the Earth realm, his mother’s old home. Yet no matter how much he tried, Caym could not teleport. His ability to move from one location to another was bound. Another betrayal of his sires? "Dammit, Tumzahl!" He roared until his throat was raw and bleeding. He was trapped here within this damn realm. How long would he be forced to wait until another portal was opened? Caym refused to remain here. He needed to leave. Now.

Panting hard, he dragged his tired body upright, clutching the rough stone wall to prevent himself from collapsing. His body was weak and heavy. It took several tries before he was finally able to lift himself from the ground. Hello? Who goes there? His voice was rough as if it had been unused for quite some time. Exactly how long had he tarried here? Frowning, Caym reached up to stroke at his weary face. His facial hair had at least a few days’ growth, something which both angered and relieved him. Angered him over his sire’s actions. Yet relieved him as it meant he had not been here long enough to meet with any harm at the hands of the humans. It meant his secrets were still safe. For now. Raising his hand once more, he pounded on the wooden panel of the door. The action was weak, yet with each thrust of his fist, the sound strengthened. Open up! Let me out of here!

Shut yer mouth, filth. The door rattled as it was beaten from the opposite side. Back tae bed with ye. Or ye’ll find yerself beat. Caym frowned as the voices in his head increased. Whoe’er was standing on the other side of this door, he was well detested by the other residents. He was the reason for their torment and pain.

Open this door or you will be the one finding himself beaten. Caym growled low, his nails lengthening into claws. His physical strength returning rapidly. Now!

The door moved, the sound of metal grinding against stone echoing within his cell before the large obstruction was pulled wide. The door opened to show a short, stout human male with long greasy hair and a matted beard. Caym curled his lip in disgust. Filth marred the human’s skin. His teeth were yellow and broken. The scent of urine and blood permeated the air around him. Disgusting.

What did ye say, filth?

The human glared up at Caym who stood at least a foot taller. If he were trying to intimidate, then he would need to try harder. Caym was not one of his addled prisoners. He would not shrink back in fear nor would he submit to such a creature. It was not in him to do so. He was a prince. Part demon, stronger than anyone this little human would e’er meet in his short lifetime. Caym growled in warning, baring perfect white teeth. Step aside, and I may consider allowing you to live. It was an empty threat. Caym would ne’er kill any weaker than he. Maim, mayhap. Yet never murder. Quickly. I shall not repeat myself.

The guard laughed, his extended stomach moving with every laboured breath he took. Is the wee prince not happy? Sodding shame. The man’s demeanour changed instantly. But if ye thinks ye can speak tae me like that, filth. Ye be wrong. With a grunt, he raised his baton high, intending to strike Caym with it. It amused him somewhat that the guard thought it possible to overpower him. Yet, he was obviously used to being at the top of the food chain here. No longer.

Moving quicker than the human could track, Caym shot out his hand to disarm the guard. The thick baton hit the dirty stone floor with a loud rattle. The other inmates fell eerily silent. As if awaiting the abusive guard’s fate. Interesting. Dragging the sputtering man out into the centre of the dank hallway, Caym held him aloft by the throat. The human roared for help, his toes scarcely touching the ground as he fought to free himself.

Do be quiet. Caym backhanded the guard, his jaw cracking loudly as he moaned in pain. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. His wide, panicked eyes locked on Caym’s face, then slowly moved upward before he gasped in fear.

Dread settled in Caym’s chest. Only one thing could garner that reaction from a human. On a curse, he reached up to run the palm of his hand through his hair. Hells. See what you have done, human. His horns were visible. Thick and black, they sprouted from his hairline at his temples and ran backward for a good ten inches, before ending in deadly points. No doubt his claws and eyes would have darkened with his strong emotions also. Caym despised this part of himself. Yet at times, it was unavoidable.

Heaving a sigh, he shook the human in his hand as he addressed the other inmates. You shall be judge, jury and executioner. What of this scum?

"Evil Dirty Hurt us Kill him Kill him KILL" the females cried and screamed. The males sneered their deadly intent. Their abuse at his hands obvious.

Caym glared at the human. Tightening his hold on the human’s throat, he pulled him upward until they were face-to-face. You heard them, human. Death it is. He flared his claws, growling long and loud as the human released his bladder all over the place. Disgusting mortal.

P–please. Naw. I’ll release ye. The guard gasped for air as Caym’s fist tightened over his throat. Promise ye.

Caym tilted his head, examining the horrid creature in his hands. His mind had been so easy to manipulate. Worthless little shite. Caym had ne’er intended to kill the guard. He simply wished for a way out of this hellhole. And now he had it. I am listening, he rasped.

Easing the male to his feet, he followed him from the room, which appeared to be a tower. On their descent, they passed many locked cells packed full of dirty humans. The scent was overwhelming. Caym had been front line in many a battle. Blood and innards nothing new to him. Yet this scent, that of excrement and urine, made him ill. His need for fresh air increased by the second.

By the time they stepped out through a large metal door to freedom, he was about ready to empty the contents of his stomach onto the filthy streets beyond. What new hell was this? Outside was no better than the interior. Dark buildings lined the cobblestone streets. Their gutters blocked with human waste and decaying flesh. The scent of rotten food and tanneries clogged the air. Dark smoke from towering factories blocked his view of the sky beyond. Where am I? He asked of the trembling guard by his side.

London, milord.

Caym sneered at his words. London? He had read stories of this place and had expected better. This city was disease-riddled and filthy. He would need to leave as quickly as possible.

Yet first . . .

Turning on the human, he backed him against the wall. Caym growled, baring his fangs as he leaned down close. You have sinned. Beaten and raped the innocent. I cannot allow you to continue your reign of terror here. The guard’s eyes widened, mouth opening as if to scream for help. Caym moved quickly, reaching up behind the human to snap his spinal cord at the base. On a grunt, the man hit the ground, silent. The animal was not dead. Yet he would no longer cause harm to the vulnerable beings up in that godawful tower prison.

His task complete, Caym wiped his sullied hand on the leg of his tattered pants. They were as grimy as everything else in this damned city. He resembled one of the filthy humans aloft. Oh, dear Gods, this would not do. He needed a warm bath and a change of clothing. If only he were able to wield his magics. And then there was the case of his demon visage. He needed to calm, to hide it. Breathing deeply, he willed his horns and claws to retract. It took Caym several attempts, yet he managed in the end.

Heaving a sigh, Caym made his way out onto the busy streets of London. The denizens of the decaying town eyed him with contempt. Some actually dared chase him from their place of business with broom handles and canes. How could he possibly resolve his lack of cleanliness if none were willing to offer him their service? If he could change his appearance or manipulate the human’s into seeing to his needs, he would. Yet the crone’s potion was still having an effect on his own power, and unfortunately, his mental abilities were not as strong as his brothers. Caym had ne’er been able to focus them appropriately, and more times than naught, he would inadvertently cause his human targets more harm than good.

He could always force his way into someone’s home. He was strong enough. Just as that thought crossed his mind, a bonny female stopped afore him with a gasp. Caym took in her attire, from her perfectly coiffured hair to her bespoke fitted gown and dainty little slippers. This was a female of wealth. She glanced up at him with wide eyes. Yet ’twas not fear which shone within them. ’Twas something akin to lust. Caym blinked, shocked. He had expected disdain, yet he doubted this female knew how to feel such a thing. She was pure. How strange. Curiosity piqued; he tilted his head to get a better look at her bonny face. She was stunning. So delicate. Her skin was flawless and pale. Not a freckle or blemish in sight. Her lips rosy and plump, made for his kisses. High cheekbones, a pert button nose, and alluring grey eyes which swirled with intelligence and appeared to change colour with her emotions.

’Tis rude to stare, is it not?

Hells, that voice. Her voice. It went straight to his groin, awakening something dark and primal within. His prick throbbed, blood heating. Sweat beaded his brow as his heart rate sped up and his pulse hammered loudly in his ears. Caym exhaled on a rush, the action causing his extending fangs to ache. His body was reacting to her in ways it had ne’er done with another. He tingled from head-to-toe, his muscles tensing with anticipation, and longing. ’Twas as if he had been deprived of her his whole life, and he wanted more. On a shudder of desire, he found himself moving closer. Mistake. This close he could feel her heat, practically taste her sweet scent. Mine. Caym growled possessively. He wanted her. Needed her. She was his, and he would have her. My mate.

The female gasped again, this time taking a step back. Caym reached out, wishing to stop her, to touch her. She was his. He would not allow her to flee. Every possessive bone in his body demanded that he snatch her up and claim her. Yet, he could not frighten her. He needed to be gentle. Extending a trembling hand, he grated, Come.

Is there a problem here? Lizzy, did he touch you?

A smartly dressed human male appeared behind his female. He placed a gloved hand upon her shoulder, his eyes glancing upon her intimately as he stepped between them. Caym growled, the urge to rip those eyes from their sockets hit him hard. He wanted to bathe in the human’s blood. Show this female who was stronger, more powerful, and capable of taking care of her needs.

"Begone, cur, or I shall call for the Peelers."

The human was crossing a line. How dare he threaten Caym, especially in front of his female. Did he not know who he spoke to in such a hoity manner? Was he too dense to realise that he touched another’s female? His mate–

Please, Edward, there is no need for this.

Caym’s eyes slid shut