Blood of Aurum: Neriad Royalty, #1

By Amelia Oliver

Troian Aurum lives in two worlds.

One where she is the heir to the Aurum kingdom, preparing to fulfil her legacy to rule over the Neriad as Queen, even if the kingdom she is inheriting seems decimated after the execution of her parents.

In the other world, she's simply a woman, one who is in love with a human she's known since she was a child. This part of her knows both who and what she is, and also the weight of the responsibility this brings.

Troian had kept these worlds seperate, secrets held from the other, and even from her longtime love, Rodon. Until now.

Love is stronger than any bond we know, between any species that exist. However, when forces beyond their control conspire to tear the lovers apart, their connection is tested to breaking point.

When Rodon is banished to depths of the seas, Troian won't stop until she secures his freedom, refusing to allow anything preventing her reuniting with her mate.

Troian soon realizes that having been kept in a castle and away from the rest of the Neriad civilizations, that things are not as she once believed.

She quickly comes to understand that her journey has a deeper significance, and that maybe something far more nefarious than simply being divided from her mate, is at play.

Not all is what it appears in the land beneath the seas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Amelia Oliver
• Release date: Oct 4, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393697695

Book preview

Cover art by:

Sasha Elle

Instagram @books.she.lived

This book is dedicated to Jaz and Mel.

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*WARNING GRAPHIC SCENES INVOLVING BLOOD*

PRONUNCIATION GUIDE

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

AUTHOR’S NOTE

GLOSSARY

PLAYLIST

PRONUNCIATION GUIDE

CHARACTERS

Troian: Troy-in

Sibby: Sib-bee

Arold: Air-old

Tellefessen: Tell-e-fess-in

Rodon: Rode-in

Fenris: Fen-riss

Fenrir: Fen-rrr

Lucerne: Loo-sir-ne

Anahita: Ana-hee-ta

Poseidon: Puh-sigh-done

PLACES

Aurum: Or-um

Emeraud: Em-er-awd

Nefi: Nee-v-ee

Uffern: You-fern

Azazul: Ah-za-zool

Cerceta: Sir-se-ta

Frio: Free-o

Meduse: Me-doos

Nishikogoi: Ni-shh-ik-og-goi

Nebesa- Nay-bay-saa

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OTHER

Neriad: Near-ee-add

Megalodon: Meg-a-low-don

Livyatan : Liv-yaa-tan

Axolotl: Ak-suh-laa-tl

PROLOGUE

RODON

The air is cold as the wind blows in through the cavities carved into the stone of the castle. A castle I first saw as a boy. A castle shrouded in darkness and hatred. A cold and black place made of stone and spikes tipping each peak like spears pointed into the sky. The wind blew steadily that day too, the first day I gazed upon it. The day I see now that would shape the events that led me to this moment.

Warned to stay away. But you did not stay away, the towering man accuses.

His long silver hair mingles on the emerald stone slabs below his feet, the trailing gown of pale blue fabric hanging from his limbs.

No, I answer steadily, my eyes remaining on the man and deliberately not scanning the hundreds of faces watching from the galley surrounding us. 

The old man taps the extended silver staff as he walks back and forth before me, head down as he questions me.

Because you wanted to harm? he questions.

No. I wanted to see...to see for myself.

See what? he stops pacing, finally pinning his hauntingly silver eyes on me.

That the people I’d been warned away from so severely were really the monsters I was told they were.

Murmurs and hushed voices fill the once silent theater, and it’s then I allow myself to look up and take in faces I never could have imagined were real.  With languages I can't understand coming from their lips.

This isn’t real.  None of this can be real.  How could I have lived in a world where people like this existed and never know?  I knew she was real though.  The one I love.  The woman I love that I was supposed to hate. 

I wonder if she’s here. Up there with them and looking at me like this, bound and shackled and feeling nothing but hate for me.

And? my interrogators voice cuts through the whispering.

"I know you’re trying to find some sort of evil in me, but I know the truth. The truth that’s been told to me since I was born. My family, fisherman and proud, didn’t mean to catch your people, it was an honest mistake-"

Lies! he snarls, slamming the end of his staff against the floor.

It’s not lies! Why would we?

More incoherent chatter, this time louder comes from above me, echoing in the capacious cathedral style of the chamber.

You wanted our scales, scale for money! his voice booming with accusation, pointing his staff at me now.

Scales. I remember her scales as I touched her. The way they rose up behind my fingertips as I grazed her skin, golden and shiny. How they had flared across her entire body when I made her come.

No, I shake my head, looking down because I know nothing I say now will change the minds of these people. If that’s even what they are.

There have been generations of hatred spread on both sides about the other. I know if this was one of them in front of my family, they too would be hard to convince that all they’ve ever heard isn’t true.

Then tell me Mr. Mortens, the old man spits my family's name out with disgust.

He pushes his staff my way, closer and closer, causing my head to tilt up. He passes through a shaft of light from the early morning sun, muted from the clouds that always cover this place, and the skin on his hand gripping the staff shimmers silver.

Just like hers does.

My mind drifts to her skin again, scales so small they look as though her skin is covered in layers of glitter. When she was naked in the moonlight, it looked like a million stars covered her body.

This is me, she’d said, unsure.

But that isn’t her. There is so much more to her than golden skin and innocence.  She changed in a matter of one night. Witnessing that, watching it happen, I should have left her there and left us as that. I should hate what she is, but I don’t. She hates me. My beautiful Troian. My. That’s laughable. Once I thought she was mine and I was hers, but now

I don’t even know what the fuck she thinks of me. Hell, I don’t even know what to think.

The sound of the staff being pounded into the emerald floor knocks me back into now, the old man standing before me, reeking of fish.

A feeling comes over me, a pulsing energy to look back toward the galley and so, I do.

Instantly, wounded black eyes meet mine.

CHAPTER ONE

TROIAN

Are you planning on meeting your uncle and brother for breakfast this morning?

I’m coming, I reply with a sigh, pulling the pale blue cardigan over my shoulders quickly.

I slept in today because of another late night on the beach, so I must hurry as to not catch the wrath of my uncle.

Sibby, my ‘nanny’ stands in the doorway watching me. She’s been in charge of me since before I can really remember, even when my mom was still alive. She’s not much older than me, with tan skin, long white hair, slanted eyes with all white irises and always wearing the fuchsia color of her breed.

I can’t believe where the time has gone, she remarks in her thick Cerceta accent, hard and punctuated with every word.  

Her hands move on my shoulders as she stops me from moving around the room in preparation to leave. Assessing my long bronze hair and green eyes, looking up at me since I tower over her by at least two feet now. She takes in my jeans and t-shirt, fixing the fabric of the cardigan rolled in around my neck.

I’m too old to have a nanny now, at almost twenty-one, but I know she’ll probably be around to help me with my own children, when that time comes.

You look tired, did you not sleep well? Another dream? she asks.

I sigh, looking down as I nod.

Although I did get home late, I did wake after only sleeping a few hours.  A reoccurring dream I’ve had since I was young and one I thought I had finally shaken, came back to me this morning after a few months of absence.

The small girl lying dead on the beach, her wide eyes staring vacant at the sky as I looked down at her. The feeling it gives me always startles me awake and leaves me panicked. There is not much to the dream and why it gives me such a reaction I don’t know, but it haunts me and leaves me unable to calm myself enough to fall back to sleep.

At the thought, a gust of cold wind blows through the window, causing us both to shudder. Looking behind me at one of the many windows lining my room that constantly blow open from the gusts off the water. Sibby moves around me to close it as I pull my cardigan across the front of my body tighter.

I will never get used to this chill, she comments.

I nod, since, neither will I. Where I grew up is warmer and feels like a whole other world away from here and practically is. Aurum castle is bathed in sunlight and the warmest of breezes. Unlike here, shrouded in gloomy gray and a constant cool chill.

We both exit my room, walking side by side toward the castle’s ornate black stone steps. The staircase mimicking a coiled-up serpent as it spirals down to the main floor. This castle is not like any of the others I’ve seen or the one I grew up in, it's actually quite medieval. 

Made from the black rocks of the ocean that surrounds us, the bones of the castle are pitch black, yet shiny and sometimes almost sparkly in the right light. Everything that isn’t black, is green, emerald green. The doorknobs, the tables, the bathroom fixtures, everything. The castle is gloomy and sometimes disorienting with how dark it is, but at the same time beautiful and ethereal. 

The Emeraud king has always lived in this castle and it is now where my uncle Arold, King of the Emeraud and my dad’s eldest brother resides.  This would definitely not have been my first choice of where I wanted to live. But when my parents died eleven years ago, we had no choice in the matter. We, as in me and my twin brother Tellefessen. He’s only moments younger than me, but I never let him forget how much every one of those seconds matters. Although I do feel bad sometimes, since unlike me, he wishes he was the Aurum heir to the throne.

Sibby and I make our way through the massive corridors and hallways down to the main floor of the castle. Above us in the foyer, set within the ceiling is a massive circular stained-glass skylight, that when the sun is out, every once a year practically, the effect below mimics being underwater. It is the one thing I enjoy about this castle and I pause my steps to look up at it, willing the sun to peak out and bath me in the colors of the many kingdoms.

Don’t forget after breakfast-

Yes Sibby, I’ll be to class on time.

Class consists of basic reading, writing and arithmetic, not on how to rule a kingdom when it comes time or anything important like that. However, there are no Aurum Neriad left aside from me and Tellefessen, so, I guess the matter isn’t pressing. The two of us will have to start the kingdom over. But without either of us being officially claimed to anyone yet, who knows when that will be.

I turn and salute her as I move closer to the dining hall. Heaven forbid I get a day off for my birthday, I tease with suggestion in my tone.

Your birthday is not until tomorrow, she corrects.

"So, do I get to have tomorrow off then?" I ask hopefully with raised brows.

She gives me a smile along with a shake of her head and a blunt, No.

With a groan I turn and continue toward the dining hall, hearing Sibby slightly laugh behind me. Pushing in the dining hall doors, there are two servants assisting me on the other side as they bow in greeting toward me.

Ah, glad you could join us, Tellefessen says as soon as I enter.

They are sitting at the long black table in the center of the great room. When I say long I mean at least two hundred people could dine here. The ridiculous part is that each of the two hundred seats are set daily with emerald green China, as if guests will be arriving any moment for a meal. It's just been Arold, Tellefessen, and I for the entirety of my life here.

For all the things Emeraud house isn't, it is predictable. Predictable sunless grey skies.  Predictable black sand beaches touched by sage green foam from the murky green water. Predictable irritating brother and uncle. I'm not predicting the number of diners at meals to be changing any time soon. 

Tell, as I call my brother, in his high-back black chair, a thin green snake draped across his shoulders as his fingers caress the serpents head. The Emeraud family crest is the sea serpent, and for whatever reason, my brother has decided to embrace this part of our heritage.

His green eyes, like mine, nearly sparkle and resemble an emerald in appearance as he gives me a teasing grin which creases the side of his cheek. His golden hair, also like mine, is combed back neatly, his tight black t-shirt showing off his tones arms and golden skin.

Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Arold finally speaks, giving my body a once over covertly as I make my way to my chair, but I catch it. I always catch it.

In the past when I have asked him the reason for looking at me like this, he explains it’s because of my attire. I dress in modern style, as does Tell most of the time. But his stares don’t make me feel like that’s what he’s looking at me for.

Sitting at the head of the table, his fingers clad in black and emerald rings, his black cloak draped over the armrests of his nearly throne like chair. In his fifties, Arold looks the roll of a typical medieval king. His long dark hair only made darker by the excess of product he's put in it. I assume his intention is to tame it stylishly, but it just appears he's smothered it to death. He has a scar that runs from right temple to his left jawline, leaving thick, green, dull scales in its wake. An ever present emerald colored leather patch covers his right eye, and eye I assume he lost when he received that scar.

A servant is behind me, scooting my chair in. Then another is there a moment later to fill my goblet with water, while another fills a smaller glass with orange juice and I thank them. My uncle gives them each a look and I hear the clatter of tins as breakfast is set down before the three of us.

Sorry I was late, I apologize, draping my napkin across my lap.

Arold essentially ignores my words, a slight nod of his head is all I get as he tucks into his plate. The funny thing is had I not apologized, I would have gotten an hour-long lecture about respect and duty.

Lost time looking at yourself in the mirror? Tell asks, raising his golden eyebrows in question, a smirk on his lips.

Tell and I used to be close, before we came here. But now, over the years, I see he’s begun to adapt to the way my uncle is. Entitled, deceiving, power hungry.  

"Baby brother, you know that is something I would never do. Besides, the handheld mirror you hide from uncle was broken months ago."

I'm not sure what you're referring to Troian, Tell comments, flicking his eyes toward our uncle. His voice deceivingly calm as he places a slice of green fruit on his tongue. The golden skin turning pink at his cheekbones giving him away to anyone with even the poorest eyesight. 

Oh you know exactly what I'm referring to Tell. It shattered when you dropped it on the bathroom floor while checking to see if the rumor about us not getting follicles on our privates was true or not.

Tell opens his mouth, forming a perfect O, and the fruit he just inserted plops out and back onto the plate, causing me to snort. However, my words are more cutting than funny as I had intended. 

Uncle? Tell petitions while looking toward him.

I keep my eyes focused on my brother, even though he won't meet mine. His eyes now brimming at the edges with unshed tears. My smile drops as my concern rises. I instantly regret joking about the mirror, since I know having one could really get us in trouble.

A throat clears breaking my focus. My eyes moving to my uncle, words to retract my statement on my tongue.

Can you ever keep your vulgar mouth closed, Troian? he asks, raising his goblet to drink from. His tone one that causes the scales on the back of my neck to rise.

I start to answer, but he continues once he’s swallowed.

Or do you really enjoy hearing yourself speak that much? he grits out.  His dusty green eye nearly burning through me. You've upset your brother. What do you have to say for yourself? arching an eyebrow in expectation.

I- I'm cut off when Arold raises his hand to end my explanation, and I feel my skin begin to boil with being treated this way. 

That's enough. We have more important things to discuss than your plethora of excuses for lack of manners.

Like what uncle? Tell asks, too excitedly not to raise suspicion, clearly knowing what is about to be said is something he’s already privy to and no doubt will affect me in some negative way.

His tears now dry, and a smile so wide I can see each point of his spiked canine teeth.

Like your sisters birthday party tomorrow night, my uncle says, as he casually lifts his glass and takes another drink.

My fingers tighten around my fork as I blink over at Arold. Party? I repeat, my voice a bit shrill, and he nods his head. When you asked me months ago, I said I didn’t want a party.

My skin prickles at the thought of thousands of perfect strangers in the castle.  Scales of all colors, dancing, drinking, some speaking in tongues I'm not fluent in. All whispering about and trying to get a glimpse at the children who are the last of the Aurum kingdom.

"Nonsense. I was not asking you. I was simply mentioning that you would be having one, Arold says with nonchalance, continuing to chew his food as he speaks. Every female Neriad heir has a party on her twenty-first year."

"Well, like I told you before. I'd prefer not to have a party. I don't want...people I don’t know here and just trying to get a look at us so they can tell their friends."

I pick my fork back up preparing to eat, hoping the matter is over. No party. No way.

"You mean you don't want Neriad here, not people. I don’t know any people, do you older sister?" Tell corrects as he looks at me, his green eyes cutting.

Arold takes his eyes off his plate as well, looking my way for my response. My brother loves to tease me, referring to a children’s story about a Neriad princess who falls in love with a human and causes a great war. At least, I am fairly sure he teases me, since I doubt he knows that this is a reality for me.

You're wrong. I love all Neriad. I just dislike having them in a private space. I consider Emeraud our home since arriving so many years ago. It feels like an invasion when we don't actually know any of them.

The excuse sounds reasonable enough, to be fair. It is partially the truth. While I'd much rather be at my true home Aurum castle, Emeraud is my haven for now. I want to ask when I can go back there, but every time I bring it up, I’m told it’s not safe yet. I don’t want to feel I’m being held captive here, but sometimes...it does feel that way. No, there are no Aurum Neriad at this time, but I still would love to be home and free.

I can sympathize darling niece. I don't fancy having others intrude on what's mine either.

Arold’s words have an edge to them as he looks at me.

"You are the last of the Aurum, you are a very precious prize to be won. Do not let this fact go to your head, however. You are no different than any other royal female on the day of her twenty-first year. This is not a discussion. Tomorrow you will dress in Aurum clothing, you will dance with the males from other kingdoms, you will find a mate...all with a smile on your pretty face. You are the eldest Aurum heir. You have to continue the line and it is your duty to do so," his words send a chill shuttering down my spine.

The pressures and the unknown expectations of being heir weigh down on me almost daily. Even though Arold and Sibby have been extremely vague on the topic over the years. Arold randomly drops knowledge on what is expected of me. I know I've already found my mate, but I also know he's someone who will never meet the approval of my uncle, my brother, nor the Neriad. 

Do you understand me, Troian? Arold demands, breaking me from my thoughts. 

My first instinct is to smile. Like I always smile. Grin and bear the constant disrespect, but I feel like I can no longer stand as of this moment as I feel the pressure whistling in my ears like a tea kettle boiling in the fire. Queens are meant to relieve the burdens of their Neriad and not let on that they may feel any negative emotion. But I'm tired of smiling, especially toward Arold and a burning rage boils in my belly.

I tolerate my brother speaking to me as if I am a common Neriad because he knows no better and has not been taught the proper way to speak to others. This is equally my parents fault as it is yours. I understand what is being required of me, but let’s not forget something, uncle, I state, feeling the heat behind my eyes begin to pulsate as I look at him in his.

Control yourself, I hear Sibby say inside my head.

But I can’t.

I am also queen, as much as you are king. The dismissal I have for my brothers disrespect is one I don’t allow adults. You need to remember who you are speaking to when you address me, just as I do for you, gracious king.  

His eye glints with a flash of anger, since no, he does not like to be reminded of my future title. However, I do feel he needs to be reminded of this when he attempts to make me feel like I am less than him. If I let him treat me this way for too long, I begin to forget where I come from, my line, my reign.

Leaning back in his chair, he inhales deeply, the gills behind his ears sounding raspy with age and congestion. Lifting his goblet, he looks over toward me.

You are mighty with the tongue, my dear niece. But, are you able to protect oneself if your tongue gets you into trouble? Arold volleys.

Tell me, uncle...how did one acquire that scar and the loss of your eye?

I ask this with a boldness that is foreign to me, not knowing the answer, but clearly he is not one to ask me if I could protect myself. For a moment, something like clarity coats his eye. The look almost startling and I wonder if my words have struck some other damage rather than the target I had intended. Blinking, the look disappears and once more, he is back to himself.

Would you like to disappoint the Neriad people?  Your parents? Arold questions on a venom laced whisper, and I relent instantly. 

My shoulders drop and my eyes cool at the thought of my dead parents, the fight shriveling within. My dad’s raven colored hair much like my uncles. Mom’s silver glinting eyes like the rest of the Aurum kingdoms people’s once did. I can almost feel the warmth of one of my mom’s hugs, so tender and loving like the ones I can only get in secret at the beach. Nothing like the cold and lingering stares and touches I get from my uncle. The entirety of my scales bristle at the thought.

I will do what's required of me, I agree robotically. I do not like the way you went about this uncle, planning something behind my back...but I will attend, I state.

Consider it a surprise party, and my gift on your twenty-first year of life, he replies.

I hear him, but my brain is littered with a thousand ways to get out of this party, and to get out of finding a Neriad mate.

Get through this day and get to the beach. 

May I be excused to attend class? I then ask, blotting my napkin over my lips before setting it on my plate.

But you've hardly eaten, Arold says, unfeeling, uncaring.

I've lost my appetite, I retort, standing and moving toward the enormous black arched double doors of the dining room.

Yes, you wouldn't want to look bloated when you meet your mate tomorrow, Tell says, snickering at his own joke.

Get through the day and get to the beach.

Get to the beach, get to my heart.

* * *

You had a quarrel with your uncle? Sibby questions.

I’m standing in the middle of my classroom, which is really a large, ballroom. A table and chair near the window, another desk for Sibby located across for when I am doing book work. There is a chalkboard, my math equations scribbled from after breakfast still chalked onto it. Books line countless shelves around the room, along with Emeraud lineage paintings, nothing to remember my parents, however. The rest of the room is open, open to do the other studies Sibby shows me in secret.

Yes, I sigh.

You lost your temper?

She moves around me as I stand in the center of the floor.

I did, I reply, lifting my chin.

You seem rather pleased with yourself, she states as she passes in front of me and our eyes meet.

I nod, However, I am finding it hard to control myself today for some reason, I confess.

Because you are reaching the age of true self. You will be coronated soon. It is ingrained in you to recognize this time, not before. I have trained you for this.

I nod and look down.

What did you feel when your uncle spoke of the party to meet your mate? she asks, standing behind me.

I inhale and close my eyes, conjuring the emotion his words provoked.

Fear, heaviness, adulthood, disgust, sadness-

Anger? she hedges.

I nod,