Married by Treachery Read online

  Married by Treachery

  Copyright © 2022 by Barbara Kloss

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, media, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by Laura Josephsen

  Cover Design by @coverdungeonrabbit

  For Daniella

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Also by Barbara Kloss

  About the Author

  PROLOGUE

  Deep in the woods, there stood a palace, and at this palace lived a little family: a father, a mother, and their two children. Twins, both sons. Most would call them wealthy, for their palace was second to none in grandeur, and they reigned over a kingdom rife with glittering lakes and magnificent forests, and they counted more gold to their name than they could ever hope to spend. But they did not understand—as very few understand—that it is not things that give one wealth.

  It is love and the relationships rooted within it.

  But this, they did not own. Rather, they possessed a perversion of it: pride, the love of self.

  And that they had in abundance.

  No one loved them better than they loved themselves; no worship was proficient. The more they acquired, the more they wanted—needed—to fill the hole where love was designed to be.

  A hole that things would never fill.

  The more they thought of themselves, the less they thought of others, until what was previously considered cruel became just and even deserved as long as it preserved self—such was the deluded and dark path of pride.

  And so one night, after the older son told the younger about how he’d gone into the mortal realm and stolen the land along the wide banks of the Viara River by slaughtering every one of its citizens—man, woman, and child—an old woman appeared before the palace gates.

  A Fate, they would soon realize.

  She gazed upon them with a face like wrinkled linen and eyes like small moons, but before either son had the chance to wonder, she spoke their future into existence. “Such is your pride, young princes of Canna, that you have made yourselves gods, and it has eaten away your hearts.”

  Before either son had the chance to wonder, she spoke their future into existence:

  “Through blood, by blood, may your sins be paid,

  Spent from a mortal heart, the heir must claim.

  A babe wrought by harvest’s light,

  And virgin be, by immortal’s sight,

  Who holds the only road to your salvation.”

  And that was the day the mist came.

  1

  Forty-two years later, in the mortal world…

  Raquel had not expected all the hair. The elders had mentioned Prince Edom’s unusual hairiness, but this was nigh unsightly, and she would have felt sorry for the prince if he weren’t also about to carry her off to her death.

  Her betrothed rode into the village square, brooding mightily upon his enormous steed. He was flanked by a dozen of his kith, all equally brooding and magnificent, with their rich velvety green coats and gold-plated armor, reminding Raquel of brilliant harvest leaves. Of change and impending winter.

  The townsfolk watched in silent apprehension as the Prince of the Forest passed into their mortal realm, their fear as palpable as the fog that had settled. Raquel might have been caught up in that fear herself had she not been so distracted by the fact that Prince Edom looked like…well, a bear.

  She could hardly see his eyes through his mass of hair, which stuck out of his head like a lion’s bushy mane. His beard had also completely taken over his face, neck, and probably all the other parts Raquel didn’t wish to see.

  Which she would, as his bride.

  If she even survived that long.

  Her older brother, Lee, elbowed her in the ribs and cast her a warning glance. “You’re staring.”

  She tipped her head to him. “Honestly, you’d think the prince of the forest could afford a barber.”

  Lee gave her a very emphatic look, to which Raquel smirked. “I’m going to die soon. I might as well enjoy what little time I’m afforded.”

  “You’re not going to die, Quel,” he murmured.

  “Six former brides beg to differ.”

  Lee’s gaze fixed on the Bear Prince. “Those six former brides were not trained as you are.” His gaze flickered back to her.

  Behind them, their father, Laban, cleared his throat.

  Raquel and Lee quieted as their father stepped around them and moved to intercept the royal procession.

  “Remember what we discussed, and do not be too eager. Patience is your greatest ally here,” Lee whispered in final warning, and then followed after their father.

  Raquel sighed, gathered her skirts, and strode after them as more townsfolk slowly assembled to watch an exchange that many had witnessed before, seven years ago. And seven years before that, and so on and so forth. It was the only time that the People of the Forest could pass through the veil, and for some reason they always traveled to Harran to select a bride for their beloved (and hairy) Prince Edom. The oldest of Harran remembered the first bride from forty-two years ago.

  Raquel marked the seventh.

  It was an agreement between their peoples for reasons Raquel still did not understand. Of course, she understood those reasons on Harran’s side: a mortal bride in exchange for immortal protection, and Harran had enjoyed that protection from neighboring kingdoms for as long as Raquel could remember. But what mortals had to offer the Forest kith of Canna, no one knew with any certainty. There was speculation, of course, but as far as Raquel was concerned, six young women had been taken from their village, and Prince Edom kept returning for more.

  He’d offered no explanation except to say that if the people of Harran wanted to continue enjoying the Forest kith’s protections, Harran would hand over what was owed.

  Last time, it had been Lee’s betrothed—a young woman Raquel had grown to love like a sister.

  This time, it was Raquel.

  To be fair, Raquel had begged Harran’s elders to choose and send her. Without any vocal competition, save her own father—and Lee, until she’d explained her plan—the elders had unanimously agreed. Raquel vowed she would be the last, and Lee had aided her relentlessly with that vow.

  “Prince Edom,” declared Hamor, Harran’s premier, as he and the four elders lay prostrate before the Bear Prince.

  It was embarrassing, really.

  The crowd followed suit, including Lee and her father, to Raquel’s irritation, until Raquel alone remained standing.

  The Bear Prince’s dark gaze landed on her and narrowed to a blade’s point. Raquel dropped to her knees but did not drop her gaze, not even as little pebbles bit into her kneecaps through her skirts.

  Something sparked in the Bear Prince’s
eyes, and he drew his steed to an abrupt halt at the center of the square. His kith fanned out behind him, eyeing the crowd with the disdain of the elite. They looked entirely out of place amidst Harran’s dusty, sepia palette, these creatures from another world.

  “You truly honor us this day, Your Grace,” Hamor continued like any respectable sycophant. “It has been many years since last we—”

  “I would take that which is owed.” The Bear Prince cut him off. He had a deep and commanding voice. One that was used to being obeyed, and one that held little patience for those who did not obey.

  The wind stirred through the pines, there was some shifting within the crowd, some covert glances as the people searched for the offering Hamor and the elders had chosen, and Raquel’s father started to rise.

  Raquel rose faster. “I am here, Highness.”

  The Bear Prince’s gaze carved into her. Wind howled, but the Bear Prince did not move—did not seem affected by it, though it tugged strands of Raquel’s long golden plait free and pulled them across her face.

  And then the Bear Prince dismounted.

  It was a swift motion, as imperious and sure as his voice, and his heavy black boots landed firmly upon the soft earth.

  Raquel could have sworn the air shuddered.

  The Bear Prince’s gaze never left her face as he strode powerfully forward, a conqueror come to collect the spoils of victory. Wind made a maelstrom of his wild brown tresses, and his coat billowed behind him. He did not wear the rich greens and golds of his kith. His coat was the dark brown of his hair, the color of damp earth and tree bark. A visual rebellion to all class and decency.

  The Bear Prince stopped one pace away, and Raquel forced herself not to shrink. Not to shrivel or cower, which was unusually difficult because up close, the Bear Prince was as large as any actual bear. He even smelled wild, and something feral burned in his dark eyes.

  Those eyes raked over her body, head to toe. “You?” he said with sneering dissatisfaction.

  Almighty as her witness, the only thing that stayed Raquel’s tongue was the mission ahead of her. The one Lee had helped prepare her for.

  Still, in her periphery, she saw Lee’s hand twitch.

  “The girl is Laban’s only daughter,” Hamor hastened to say. “A virgin at nearly one and twenty years of age, and she was born upon the harvest moon, as required.”

  Certainly there are other attributes to recommend me, Raquel thought bitterly, not realizing she’d muttered it out loud.

  Someone coughed, but the Bear Prince’s eyes gleamed.

  “She’s a good girl, Your Grace,” Laban interceded, though his voice rang unsteady. “She’s loyal and strong, and she will give you strong sons. If that is what you will.”

  The Bear Prince smiled. Or, at least, she imagined he did. It was difficult to tell through his thick and bushy beard. “That, I will.” His tone was all mockery.

  Raquel felt herself flush, but not with embarrassment.

  The Bear Prince took a small step closer, reached out, and pinched her chin between thumb and forefinger. His grip was rough and firm as he jerked her face from side to side, inspecting it like her father inspected their foals.

  “I hope Your Grace finds his bride acceptable,” Raquel clipped, unable to help herself.

  The Bear Prince stopped turning her face and gazed into her eyes instead. “That depends, daughter of Laban.” He leaned closer, as if to share a secret. “How does my bride find her prince?”

  There were words Raquel should have said. “Truthfully, it’s hard to tell through all of my prince’s hair.”

  Her father stilled, as did everyone else who had heard, and Lee dropped his head in defeat.

  But, surprisingly, the Bear Prince tipped back his head and laughed. It was a great boom of sound that cracked the tense silence.

  “The girl means no offense, Your Grace,” Hamor stammered, glaring at Raquel. “Upon my word, she will honor our—”

  “She will do perfectly.” The Bear Prince waved his hand, spun on his heel, and strode for the magnificent steed that was less beast than he was. The next moment, a handful of his kith surrounded Raquel. A few seized her arms and began dragging her after the Bear Prince.

  “But I haven’t grabbed my things!” she cried out, and when they still did not release her, she added, “At least let me say goodbye!”

  But the Bear Prince’s kith only dragged her farther away.

  Raquel looked desperately back, trying to steal one last glimpse of her brother and father, but they had been swallowed by the crowd. The Bear Prince’s kith tossed her upon his steed, the Bear Prince clamped his arm around her waist, and they were off. Galloping through the trees and into the mist, away from the mortal world.

  2

  Raquel could not see anything through the mist except for the Bear Prince and his entourage. They might as well have been galloping through the clouds for all she could see, and a bitter cold pierced her to the marrow.

  This must be the veil, she thought.

  It was far more expansive than she’d expected. She’d thought it would be like passing through a doorway—a single step from one world and into another—but this was an endless haze of white and cold that only the Bear Prince seemed able to navigate.

  “How do you know where you’re going?” Raquel asked over her shoulder, but the Bear Prince did not answer. His grizzly expression fixed ahead, but on what, Raquel could only guess.

  “Do you know where you’re going?” she tried again.

  Still, the Bear Prince gave no answer, and before Raquel could inquire further, the Bear Prince slowed their stallion to a halt, the mist thinned, and a great forest spread all around them.

  Or what had been a great forest.

  The trees were enormous, but they bent and twisted like old bones, their naked branches gnarled and knobby like arthritic fingers. Black and rotten bark sloughed from their trunks as though they were infected with some terrible skin disease, and the air smelled strongly of compost. Like sour earth and dying things. Even more startling was the color.

  There was none.

  Well, that wasn’t completely true. It was more that everything appeared…dim. Raquel couldn’t explain it any other way. It sort of reminded her of when she’d walked Harran’s streets late, after spending long hours tending her father’s horses. When the sun had dipped below the horizon but the night had not settled in completely and contrast gave shape to shades of gray.

  Raquel had not expected this.

  All her life, she’d been told that Canna—the kingdom of Forest kith—was unparalleled in its vibrance and glory, full of life and tingling with magik. All of which Raquel had believed, especially when one considered the unusual elegance of the Bear Prince’s kith every time they’d ridden into Harran.

  But this…this more resembled a scene from Raquel’s nightmares, which she had aplenty.

  Startled, and now a bit wary, she glanced back at the Bear Prince, who promptly dismounted. The mist seemed to curl around him, this wild prince of a dying forest, while his kith eyed the trees. The Bear Prince stalked forward and then crouched upon his haunches before a large tree root.

  The root twisted and coiled like a fat serpent, as though bloated and swollen from its last meal. Raquel shifted in the saddle, straining to look ahead, to see around the Bear Prince’s broad back, to see what he was doing, and he reached into his oversized earthy-brown coat and withdrew a curved dagger.

  Raquel sat stone-still, eyeing that shining silver claw. This was it. This was the moment he would take her life.

  Her heart pounded.

  Yes, Lee had been right: she had trained for this moment. Extensively. However, “this moment” was supposed to happen within the confines of the Bear Prince’s bedchamber. There was no way that she could overcome a Bear and two dozen armed Forest kith.

  Raquel was determined, but she wasn’t an idiot.

  Mostly.

  Raquel appraised her immediate surrounding
s. If only she could draw him away. Isolate him. Then she might have a chance. She was a good rider—better than most, thanks to her equestrian father. It didn’t matter so much that she had no idea where she was, or where to go, as long as she lured the Bear Prince away from the others, and if she acted quickly—

  The Bear Prince stabbed the silver claw into the root, and, to Raquel’s shock and horror, bright red blood oozed out of it.

  All of her strategizing promptly evaporated. “Is that blood?” Raquel asked.

  The Forest kith cast her sideways glances, and horses shifted, but no one answered.

  Raquel could not see the Bear Prince’s face. He was still turned away from them as he observed the bleeding root and lifted the silver claw that now dripped crimson. It was a siren of color in this gray world.

  And then he stood.

  For a long moment, he didn’t move. He simply stared ahead, as if waiting for something to materialize in the mist.

  Finally, he turned around.

  He looked very much like a bear in that moment. A bear standing at full height, one claw dripping with the blood of the victim he had just savagely maimed.

  Raquel felt a rare spike of fear, and her hand twitched at her hip on reflex.

  “Should we stop at Drava, or did you wish to”—one of the kith started, then glanced at her—“continue?”

  The Bear Prince considered, and then his gaze settled upon Raquel. Particularly on her hand. Raquel couldn’t be certain through all his hair, but he almost looked amused.

  “We’ve no time for Drava,” he answered in that same commanding voice as he pulled a cloth from his coat to wipe the blood from his silver claw. “But we should not linger, or Drava will become a necessity.”