Spring Warrior
Spring Warrior
The Wyth Courts 2
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Civil war sliced through the Spring Court, leaving the royal family assassinated and General Ashton imprisoned. Torturous years later, Ash finally escapes and embarks on a mission to complete the last order he was given by the late King—to locate his lost princess. In a small flower shop, living a rather mundane existence, he finds a rare beauty named Hayley—who happens to be the rightful heir to the throne.
It falls to Ash to convince her to accompany him back to the Spring Court and challenge the faux king for the crown. Hayley’s only chance at survival is to stay close to the chiseled warrior’s side, even as they reignite the flames of war.
Can Ash help her tap into the strength of her royal blood and awaken the queen within before the faux king tears them, and what’s left of their kingdom, apart?
Spring Warrior is a standalone steamy paranormal romance with a HEA. Each book in the Wyth Courts series will feature a different couple, with a complete story, and a HEA.
Suited for readers 18+ due to language and sex scenes.
The Wyth Courts
Book 1: Winter King
Book 2: Spring Warrior
Book 3: Summer Prince
Book 4: Autumn Rebel
Synopsis
Synopsis
He thought all was lost ... until he found her.
Civil war sliced through the Spring Court, leaving the royal family assassinated and General Ashton imprisoned. Torturous years later, Ash finally escapes and embarks on a mission to complete the last order he was given by the late King—to locate his lost princess. In a small flower shop, living a rather mundane existence, he finds a rare beauty named Hayley—who happens to be the rightful heir to the throne.
It falls to Ash to convince her to accompany him back to the Spring Court and challenge the faux king for the crown. Hayley’s only chance at survival is to stay close to the chiseled warrior’s side, even as they reignite the flames of war.
Can Ash help her tap into the strength of her royal blood and awaken the queen within before the faux king tears them, and what’s left of their kingdom, apart?
Spring Warrior is a standalone steamy paranormal romance with a HEA. Each book in the Wyth Courts series will feature a different couple, with a complete story, and a HEA.
Suited for readers 18+ due to language and sex scenes.
The Wyth Courts
Book 1: Winter King
Book 2: Spring Warrior
Book 3: Summer Prince
Book 4: Autumn Rebel
Chapter One
Chapter One
Chapter One
The whip cracked and struck my back.
I gritted my teeth, but endured the pain, as I had been doing for almost fifteen years. I would have believed that, after being whipped thousands of times, I wouldn’t feel it anymore, but every time a new session started, the pain came back as if it were for the blooming first time.
But I preferred when they whipped me to the other kinds of torture I had to endure when they were in a bad mood—which was often.
“How many was that?” Rabi asked, a nasty tone to his voice. He was the dungeon master here and the one who got to torture me. He loved seeing me squirm under his whip, which was why I tried my best to stay quiet, but sometimes… sometimes the whip crashed just right, worsening an already open wound. “Twenty? Forty? Maybe a hundred?” he teased.
I didn’t know, because I never counted them. If I counted them, they hurt more. So I just gritted my teeth and tried keeping my mind blank. I found that was the least painful way.
The whip paused. “General Ashton, do you pledge your alliance to the Spring King?”
They asked me that at least five times a day. By now, they should know my answer by heart, but they insisted on it.
“Never,” I answered through my clenched teeth. “Just kill me.”
Rabi snorted. “I would love to, but the king wants you alive.”
Why? Why the blossom did that bastard still want me alive? Hadn’t they learned by now that I would never change? That I would never say a word? I didn’t know why they wasted their time with me.
The whip cracked one more time, and I felt the blood sliding down my legs and soaking my ragged pants. “There.” Rabi wound the whip around his arm and stood in front of me. “That should soften you up.”
Holy petals, I knew what that meant.
The fake king was coming, and he would conduct the next round of torture while asking me questions.
Bile rose to my throat. I wasn’t afraid of Vasant and the torture, no. What I loathed was staying in the same room as the male fae who called himself the Spring King—as if killing his older brother and his entire family and stealing the crown was enough to be worthy of the title.
Rabi nodded to the guards standing at the corners of the room. They unhooked the chains from the anchor on the walls and tugged on the metal clasps around my wrists, pulling me with them. Hurt and a little dizzy because of the blood loss, I tripped on my own feet, causing them to laugh, of course.
When I was first captured fifteen years ago, I fought back every second of the day, week, month…. I didn’t know when exactly I had stopped fighting, but for a long time, I resisted. When they pulled me, I pulled back; when they struck me, I jerked against the chains and tried to strike back. When they laughed, I jumped on them, at least as far as my chains let me go.
Then months turned into years and all hope of ever escaping was lost.
I only knew that soon would be my fifteenth anniversary in here because I marked down the days on the stone walls of my cell.
The guards led me down a dark corridor until it opened in a large, round area full of thick metal doors. Down here, nothing was made of wood or earth—that would have made it too easy to escape.
No, they had thick, metal-infused stones and lots of iron, which hurt us to touch and could poison us with prolonged use.
They loved torturing me with iron.
As they threw me in my small cell and locked the doors, I wondered what Vasant would do with me today. Torture by iron? Fire? Water? Or simply by beating me up until my bones broke?
I scooted to the back of the cell, where a dirty rag that served as my bed was spread over the hard, stone floor, and rested my back on the wall. I glanced up, imagining a window there and the sunlight streaming through it, bathing my skin with warmth.
I hadn’t seen the sun since I had been brought down here.
I hadn’t seen anything but these cold, dark walls and hallways in almost fifteen years.
I closed my eyes, and the images came back like a flood.
The moment the traitor let Vasant and his forces inside the castle, taking us by surprise. I was struck and held back while Vasant advanced and killed King Eden. Queen Elowen screamed when they turned to her and her children, Wells and Ayla.
It all happened so fast, but I still remembered… the pain, the agony, the despair that lasted for a million years. The royal family was assassinated and most of my soldiers massacred around me, and all I could do was watch.
I brought my bound hands to my chest and rubbed at my still hurting heart.
This pain on the inside wouldn’t ever go way, not until I died.
For leaves’ sake, how I wished I could die.
I glanced around the cell. There was nothing here I could use to kill myself. The time I had tried taking off my pants and using them to hang myself, they were so raggedy, they ripped with my weight. Another time, I tried attacking Rabi so I could snatch his knife from his hands, but I was subdued before I could pierce my chest.
As a warrior, I had failed miserably. My honor had vanished. I had no reason to live anymore.
I closed my eyes again and wished that my sword were here with me.
The sound of metal clanking on the ground startled me. My eyes shot open, and I gasped.
My sword.
It was at my feet.
And behind the sword was Mahaeru, one of the goddesses of Wyth.
I stared at her, sure I was hallucinating.
“Didn’t you wish for your sword?” Mahaeru asked, her voice tight. She was one of three sisters, the harshest and most severe of them. Her black hair was tied in a bun at the nape of her neck, and she wore black clothes that reminded me of a soldier’s uniform. “Here it is.”
I blinked. “How…? Why…?”
She waved her hand, and the metal clasps around my wrists fell to the ground. “We don’t have time for chitchat. Get up.”
I inhaled deeply as I felt it—my power slowly awaking from a long slumber. Now that the clasps were gone, I could use my magic again.
With my hand on the wall for balance, I pushed to my feet. “Why are you here?”
“It’s time, General Ashton,” she said. “Eden’s daughter has come of age.”
I gaped at her, confused. Then, as if she had opened a gate inside my mind, I remembered it. A couple of months before his death, King Eden told me a secret: he had a daughter with a human female. He had sent them back to Earth, afraid of his wife’s wrath if she found out about them. He had wanted me to know because, if something happened to him and his children during this long and bloody war, his daughter was the only one who could claim the throne of the Spring Court.
I had forgotten about all of this, because how could I help her when I was locked in here?
“You want me to find her,” I whispered, still in shock.
“Not just find her,” Mahaeru said. “You have to bring her back. If you don’t, terrible things will happen, not only to the Spring Court, but to the entire Wyth.” She handed me a clean shirt and shoes. “Put them on. You’ll need at least shoes to run.” She waved her hand again, and I felt her magic brushing against my skin. “I’m putting a strong soldier glamour over you. Don’t stall for too long and don’t let anyone touch you, and you won’t be found out.” She waved her hand to the side, and the cell’s door opened. “Now go.”
I stared at the goddess. She wanted me to go, but where? Wasn’t King Eden’s daughter on Earth? How would I get there?
Footsteps echoed from the hallway.
“Go! Quickly!” She shooed me away.
Enough hesitation.
I shoved my feet in the boots, picked up my sword, and ran out of the cell.