A Fairy's Quest

By Maya Tyler

New York had Broadway. LA had Hollywood. Chicago had magic.

During the Golden Age of Magic, descendants of The Anunnaki sought refuge in the City of Magic.

Five years ago, fairy princess Alina Lehrer played the role of dutiful daughter until, in a single act of rebellion, she broke her arranged marriage agreement with David Laurent and destroyed a powerful alliance between their families. She fears her mother will hold it against her until she fulfils her familial duty—to reclaim the fairy crown that had been stolen from them more than a century ago.

Now, the usurper to the throne is dead, thus ending the fairy-wizard feud. It is time to reclaim the throne, and ultimately the stolen crown. But happily-ever-after seems as far away as ever for Alina. She is still heartbroken after the rejection of her first love and is still healing from a near-death trauma. She must push aside her personal feelings and find a way to confront her demons in order for her to complete her quest.

Rylan Jackson, codename Orion, has an impeccable record as a trained assassin for The Royal Court of Fairies. As The Court's most trusted asset, he always gets the job done. Until his target is Alina, the one woman he can’t resist.

Fate has placed Alina and Rylan on opposing sides in a world of deception and betrayal. Where truth is ambiguous. Where loyalties war with affection. Where there are no coincidences.

But Alina has the power to change her destiny and soon learns Fate is not set in stone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing
• Release date: Apr 6, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005748500

Book preview

Chapter One

Beyond what appears on the surface of the human world lies an ancient secret. Humans are not alone on Earth.

Centuries ago, fallen angels called The Anunnaki were stripped of their immortal status and banished to our planet as a punishment. Somehow, they retained their mystical abilities, making them the first magicals. Their history, including the ugly division into fairies and wizards, is a tale full of deception and destruction, fueling many human conflicts and negatively impacting human history.

Calling the split ugly is a bit of an understatement. For generations, fairies treated wizards like slaves, no better than trash. It should have come as no surprise when the wizards rebelled against their overlords, sparking a long and bloody feud. Then the wizards ventured down a dark path for a shortcut to victory. They thought they had outmaneuvered their enemy, eliminating the fairies. But they hadn’t. The so-called shortcut had come at a high cost and gained nothing but time. The feud was far from over. The fairies hid, waiting for the right opportunity to retaliate.

I am a fairy, heir to the monarchy, and my family expects me to reclaim our rightful place.

Chicago, Illinois

Present Day

She picked up the elegant book. The tangible presence of a sharp pain ripped through her head. No. Not again.

She saw herself sitting, tied to a chair, in the old woman’s living room. The force behind the truth spell pulled the words from her mouth. I am Alina Lehrer… The old woman’s cold eyes viewed her with such hatred. Such vile loathing that Alina saw her death foretold in their depths. This is it. I’m going to die. Hopelessness permeated her very being. So many regrets— I’m going to die before I’ve ever lived. She choked on that bitter thought. Sparks arced out of the old woman’s finger as she prepared to cast another spell. Alina closed her eyes, silently begging for salvation and absolution. It was futile to hope for rescue. No one knew where they were; ergo, no one would come to save them. I’m sorry, Mother, I failed you. Again. Despair encased her, weighing her down, covering her like a funeral shroud. Its pungent taste lingered in her mouth as she screamed, freefalling into the dark, an endless chasm created by her defeat. Unable to bear it, she succumbed to the darkness.

Alina Lehrer shook off the unbidden memory. Everything’s okay. I’m safe here. She took a deep breath, then moved her gaze slowly around the living room of her townhome condo in Chicago’s Oakland neighborhood. From her viewpoint on the white leather sofa, everything seemed to be in its proper place.

The impressionist painting behind her hung high on the light gray wall with its bold blues and greens practically jumping out of the frame. It made a pleasing focal point, bringing together all the colors in the room. Her potted white orchid stood tall and delicate in the corner next to the pale blue armchair. She paused to close her eyes and inhale its sweet fragrance. Feeling a bit calmer. Next, she settled her gaze on the vase of fresh-cut flowers placed perfectly in the middle of her reclaimed wood coffee table, centered in front of her sofa. Perhaps it was indulgent, but buying fresh-cut flowers from the nearby farmers’ market was her weekend guilty pleasure. A slender blue and white lamp, topped with a shallow, drum-shaped white lampshade, sat in the middle of the square, marble-topped end table. Her gray oak floor gleamed from a recent polishing.

Everything was in order—better than usual—since she’d been cleaning non-stop since the incident. Why did she care so much about having everything in its place? When everything else goes to shit, you need an anchor, something stable, reliable. Home was that place for her.

She held great pride in the home she made for herself. It represented her hard-won independence. Five years ago, living here had been a pipe dream. For the first time in her life, she’d gone against her parents’ wishes. She’d rejected an arranged marriage to Dr. David Laurent, who, ironically, became co-owner and in-house psychologist at her self-improvement business, Vibrant Life Incorporated. Her lips curled into a proud smile. I accomplished so much by deviating from the planned path. Except— Her smile vanished. Finding romantic love. And, you know, restoring my family’s heritage.

But things were on the brink of change. Not the chance for romantic love. She sighed. It was about restoring her family’s heritage. The elegant book in her hands could be the key. She already knew it confirmed her lineage. What else might it contain? Yet, she hesitated. After everything she’d been through—literally staring down death and surviving—and she cowered now, at the sight of a mere book. She couldn’t even work up the courage to open it. All these years. Hiding in the shadows. Her shoulders drooped. I cannot fail. Not when I’m so close. The uncertainty of not knowing seemed preferable to chancing another disappointment, especially when there was so much hope riding on her, on this, the first new lead in ages.

Hope was a dangerous thing. For many years her family, the rightful heirs to the fairy monarchy, had clung to the hope of regaining their stolen crown. She had grown up on these stories, fairy tales if you will, first, as bedtime stories. Then as history lessons at fairy school. Regardless of location, the story remained the same. The Delafontaines had been betrayed. She would never admit it to her family, but she sometimes wondered if they had deserved it. With the way they were treated, the wizard rebellion made sense. Perhaps her family had mistreated the Bauers in the same manner. Power had a way of corrupting. She would never know for certain. The last of the Bauers was—she gulped—dead. Unless you counted the old woman’s daughter, but she didn’t seem to want anything to do with the monarchy. It had stolen as much from her as it had Alina.

Hope. Her lips curled in disgust. She could see it shining in her mother’s eyes. Except hope wasn’t the right word. Hope suggested possibility. Even without proof, her mother had stubbornly held onto the dream, like it was the most important thing to her, never doubting she’d see it come to fruition. Yet, the realm of possibility hadn’t even been a remote factor until—

A few months ago…

Meeting Kurtis had changed everything. He walked into her office, looking like a lost fish. All jumpy and out of place. Still devastatingly handsome. Under different circumstances, if he hadn’t been a client, she would’ve been interested in pursuing him romantically. Indiscernible turmoil raged below the surface, resonating from his body. His gaze bounced around the cozy room until he finally chose one of the navy tweed armchairs, making the deliberation as if a semblance of choice would restore the power equilibrium within him, between them. She moved from behind her desk to the matching armchair for the same reason. Meeting him at his level, attempting to put him at ease. She asked him why he made an appointment and realized from his response he had no idea what she did.

She chuckled, remembering the look on his face when she explained her particular skill set. It was pretty much the same reaction she got whenever she told non-magicals or non-psychics. Believing in special abilities, like extrasensory perception and clairvoyance, took a leap of faith.

Kurtis eyed the door like he wanted to get as far away from her as possible. She wanted to ease his emotional unrest. But, to help him, she needed him to stay, and he needed to trust her. It took some effort to get him to open up. Even when he spoke about his mother, she knew he held back. The gaps in his story only served to pique her curiosity. Who was this man? And their tactile information exchange further fueled her interest. There was something more to Kurtis Warde. His mother had imprinted her story on his genetic make-up before she abandoned him. That sort of parting gift had to be magic. Her suspicions were confirmed when she transmitted the memories to him, and something in him helped. She knew he was a magical, even before he confirmed it.

Sharing his mother’s memories was an intimate experience. With their connection crackling like electricity in the air, it was difficult to treat the session with her usual clinical detachment. At the end of the session, she wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye. He was her last appointment of the day so he stayed to have a drink and told her he was a wizard apprentice. They sat close, thighs touching, on the couch in the office suite living room. She felt the heat radiating from his body and sensed his continued agitation. It caused ripples in the air around him. Understandably, he had a lot to process. She wasn’t even directly affected by the memories, and still found it all incredible, borderline unbelievable. She offered him a hug, and as she leaned in, she breathed in his scent. He smelled so good, an intoxicating combination of smoky whiskey and spicy cologne. Her heart started a stampede within her chest, making her want to move closer, climb inside him, and never leave. At that moment, he wasn’t her client. Just an attractive man she wanted to kiss more than anything. Impulse took over her good sense as she pressed her lips against his. Kissing him was a mistake. Maybe it was the mug of whiskey or too many lonely Friday nights, but there was no excuse possible for crossing that line. To her regret, she didn’t think she’d ever see him again.

He came back, but only because he needed someone to blame. He’d learned about the ancient fairy-wizard feud that kept his parents apart and separated him from his mother. Then Alina told him she was a fairy. He didn’t take it well. As he left the office, face stricken with betrayal, she never thought she’d see him again. But he returned, needing help from the only fairy he knew.

When Kurtis showed up at the office, Alina brought him to her brother’s deli and bakery, Chicago’s popular Deli-licious, for the best Reuben sandwich in the city. Regret seized her the minute she saw her sister-in-law’s beaming smile. Squaring her shoulders, she owned her decision and led Kurtis to her reserved booth.

You come here often?

You could say I’m a regular. My brother and his wife run this place. She suppressed a smile at his obvious discomfort, feeling vindicated for his you’re a fairy outburst.

I’m sorry, Alina. For my reaction.

His sincere apology took her by surprise, and she had trouble meeting his gaze. It’s okay. After what you told me, it must’ve been a real shock.

Yeah. I know it’s a lame excuse, but I’ve got so much shit running through my mind. And— I needed to talk to you. Like you’d understand or something.

I do. Here or in the office. She squeezed his hand. You can tell me anything.

I don’t even know where to begin… I met my father. I found a secret library. I—

Your father? She immediately seized on that tidbit of information. By the time she’d exhausted her questions, her sister-in-law had delivered their lunch. She waited until Lucie was out of earshot before speaking again. You mentioned a secret library?

Present Day

Alina stroked the book cover, remembering the day Kurtis brought her to the secret library. Meeting the charming stone guardian. Finding this marvelous book.

Her mother had been convinced because of some old prophesy she would save their family. Alina convinced herself a relationship with Kurtis, a wizard, would heal the rift between the factions. Despite our differences, I thought we shared a real connection. But— She grimaced as she recalled watching him get back in the cab and drive away. Meeting Kurtis was fate, just with a different outcome than she expected. At least I have the book.

The Last Delafontaine, the book in question, was old and in fairly good condition if you didn’t count the missing back cover. Over the years, perhaps the binding had come loose. The front cover was still intact. She took a moment to admire the jewel-encrusted, forest green leather cover. Beautiful. They don’t make books like this anymore. Running her finger over the cracked spine, she noticed the frayed edging where the back cover had been attached. All my life, I’ve waited for the chance to validate my family’s claim to the throne. Can it really be possible? Will this be my moment? She rolled her eyes. Now, I’m just stalling. Okay, time to rip off the damn Band-Aid. She took a deep breath and opened the book.

Chapter Two

A sharp pain sliced through Alina’s head, followed by inky darkness, dragging her into an abyss of nothingness until the images flooded her consciousness with aberrant speed. Pouring out from that dark place inside her mind where they stayed, locked and contained, until— She couldn’t command the memories, if that’s what they were, but now they appeared uninvited. They covered every surface of her mind, appearing like the curved screen at an IMAX theater, then freezing into place. Her mind and body felt like two separate entities. Yet the images paralyzed both parts of her, even if she didn’t understand what they were, where they came from. She saw her body. Frozen, so still even the blood in her veins had ceased to move. Maybe she was dead. Was this what death felt like? Complete and utter disembodiment? No, I can’t be dead. If I were, I wouldn’t have to ask. I’d just know, right? But she couldn’t be sure of anything here. In this place, even time moved differently. Every second stretched endlessly, passing at a snail’s crawl, like a freeze-frame movie. She felt darkness, if darkness could be a feeling, as she suffocated. Maybe I am dying.

No! Why does this keep happening? She pushed the book away, sending it flying onto the floor. A slip of yellowed paper floated out of the book, landing on the carpet. Her hand moved, of its own volition, to pick it up.

Warde Castle

Turn of the Century

Herta Warde sat at her writing desk, gazing out her window overlooking the forest to the south of the castle. She carefully inscribed the date at the top of the page.

Something is afoot. There is more activity than usual in the bailey, and Wilhelm has been notably absent. Come to think of it, so have his brothers, Peter and John. It frustrates me to no end that I must sit and wait for answers. It does not help that I have news to share with Wilhelm.

She touched her still-flat stomach, marveling at the new life blossoming within her.

I am looking forward to seeing his face when I tell him of his new son or daughter. I hope he is pleased.

Someone knocked firmly on the door. Herta closed her diary, tucking it into the middle drawer of her desk. Enter.

A maid hovered timidly at the threshold. Lord Wilhelm requests your presence in the hall.

Thank you.

The maid curtseyed before taking her leave.

I wonder if Wilhelm will be forthcoming with answers.

Pausing at the open doors of the hall, she noticed her husband already held the audience of a messenger.

Wilhelm Warde paced, with military precision, in the confines of Warde Castle’s Grand Hall. Why was I not informed before now? He turned his stony gaze upon the hapless messenger.

The lad, who hadn’t yet reached the age of majority, cowered before him.

"Leave me, you useless arsch mit ohren." To emphasize his point, Wilhelm threw the scroll at the messenger, who scurried out of the room.

An ass with ears? Really, Wilhelm, could you not think of something a little less—

Herta. The stark urgency in his tone stopped her mid-sentence.

What is it?

My damn fool of a brother has done it now.

John?

No, the other one, but John has some explaining of his own to do.

Her eyes widened, but she held herself in check as she waited for details.

Peter has betrayed us.

Are you certain?

He focused his cold, dark eyes on his wife, who met his gaze without fear. He is sitting in the dungeon now. I put him there myself after he confessed.

Herta took deliberate steps toward Wilhelm until she was close enough to lightly place her hand on his forearm. She braced herself for the bad news. Wilhelm did not exaggerate. What did he do?

His blasted affair with Irene Bauer has blown up in all of our faces.

She furrowed her brow in confusion.

"Irene convinced Peter she was leaving her husband and needed a proper distraction to cover her disappearance. The besotted idiot started a bloody uprising for her, only to find out everything was a lie. She used him, setting things in motion which cannot be taken back. Prince Albert Delafontaine of Chambéry lies in a sickbed,