Chasing Aledwen Read online

  Table of Contents

  Epilogue

  A Note on Language

  Warning

  Blurb

  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

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Other Books by Laura Greenwood

  Chasing Aledwen

  Fated Seasons: Spring #1

  Laura Greenwood

  Contents

  A Note on Language

  Warning

  Blurb

  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

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Other Books by Laura Greenwood

  © 2017 Laura Greenwood

  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission of the published, except as provided by United States of America copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher at “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the email address;

  [email protected].

  Cover Design by: Arizona Tape

  Visit Laura Greenwood’s website at:

  www.authorlauragreenwood.co.uk

  www.facebook.com/authorlauragreenwood/

  Chasing Aledwen is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  To my readers, Skye, Kelly, Gina and Arizona,

  Thank you for supporting me when I cocked this one up. For going "we'll help" when it all felt hopeless to me. It means the world to me, and I don't think I can ever properly express my gratitude.

  Now enough with the mushy stuff, let's go get Dwen her men.

  A Note on Language

  Please note that the author of this book is from the UK, and as such, spellings and some turns of phrase will appear in British English.

  Warning

  Chasing Aledwen is a paranormal reverse harem. There are four love interests, and the heroine doesn’t have to choose between them.

  Blurb

  No one said being a Princess was easy, and for Aledwen, the Fae Princess of Spring, it's even harder. Especially with her lack of magic, and the upcoming Birth of Spring. A ceremony she should be performing for the first time, but can’t.

  Luckily, she doesn’t have to figure it out alone. Though at times, her shifter mates seem to be more of a hindrance than a help. And her elf’s sense of duty may just over ride the bond between them.

  Can Aledwen become the Queen she was always meant to be? Or will she be stuck as a magicless Princess.

  Chasing Aledwen is a RH set in the Paranormal Council Universe, and is the second book in the Fated Seasons series.

  One

  Aledwen studied the ornate staircase with a look of intense distaste on her face. It was too garish, and too gold for her liking, but then she didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter. For the moment, this was someone else’s palace.

  “You’ll enter up there, and descend down the stairs, where your mother will meet you,” the Master of Ceremonies instructed her. Aledwen grimaced. She didn’t like the sound of what he was suggesting at all.

  The problem wasn’t that she had to do something formal. She was a Princess, she’d been doing these things her entire life, even if her mother did keep her hidden away from everyone else. No, Aledwen’s problem was this particular ceremony, otherwise known as the Birth of Spring. Her family had been performing it for millennia, with each Princess taking over from her mother when she reached eighteen. Aka, Aledwen’s age.

  Which was all very well, but Aledwen’s magic didn’t work right. Or at all.

  “Got it,” she muttered to herself. She’d been thinking and dreaming about this day since she was a child. Though the dreams had turned into nightmares more recently. Around the same time she realised her magic wasn’t just going to miraculously arrive one day. Not without her doing something to help it. And while she’d scoured the book shelves in the palace library, and some in the local settlement too, she’d yet to find anything that could help her. It was beginning to get highly frustrating to say the least.

  “Then you’ll walk over to her Majesty the Queen and you’ll...”

  “Thank you, I know what I need to do,” she interrupted, holding up her hand to stop the man from saying the words that would just make everyone in the room awkward. No one needed to remind her she had to take off her robe and...

  She didn’t want to think about it. Without magic, there’d be nothing to shield her from the Court’s gaze. They’d all be able to see just how naked she’d be. Exposed and ready to be ridiculed by them all. She’d love to be able to say none of them would act like that, but what did she know? She wasn’t even allowed around people most of the time.

  At least with the Birth close, Aledwen was able to spend time actually in her mother’s Court, and not just observing in secret. If anyone found out she’d been doing that then there’d be hell to pay, she was sure of that.

  From afar, it had always seemed interesting, far more so than the countless balls and parties the other fae seemed to enjoy. She’d far prefer to be embroiled in the politics of the world than to be stuffed into a ball gown. She guessed now she’d be both.

  “But, Your Majesty...”

  “That’s fine, thank you, Carter. I’ll be okay from here.” She smiled at him to soften the blow, but from the conflicted look on his face, she didn’t know whether she’d actually managed. Insulting the palace staff, accidentally or not, wasn’t in her daily plan. After all, one day she was going to have to rule here. She didn’t want them hating her even before that day came.

  She watched him leave, taking the last of the serving staff with him. Good, she was better off alone to coming to terms with what she had to do.

  Going back to the start, she serenely walked the path she would for the Birth, conscious that she needed to get it right when the time came. If she was going to end up naked and ridiculed, then she was going to do everything else right before hand. She wasn’t going to be known as the fae princess who really messed it up.

  “So you’re the one they’re all talking about.” A smooth male voice made her jump out of her skin, and she turned to see a man leaning against the door frame of the room. There was something about it that sent a thrill through Aledwen, even if she knew she shouldn’t feel that way.

  “Whatever do you mean?” she asked carefully.

  “The fae are all talking about you,” he replied, completely unhelpfully.

  “Do you have a name?” she tried instead.

  “Dreyfus, but everyone calls me Drey.”

  “No wonder,” she muttered under her breath. But a low chuckle told her he’d heard. Damn. He probably was something other than a half-fae then. At least for him to be here it meant he was some kind of paranormal. If not then...well she didn’t actually know what happened. She knew a lot of human men were brought here for the night. Her father had been one of them. It was just how the fae worked if they never found their fated mate. She hoped she wouldn’t end up like that. Kidnapping a human man just to have a child seemed callous at best, down right wrong at worst.

  “What do they call you?” he asked, not at all phased by her muttering.

  “Dwen.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and had every right to. Why had she said that? No one had ever called her Dwen. Ever. Not even her mother.

  “Aledwen,” she corrected herself.

  “I think I prefer Dwen. It suits you.” He smiled widely, lighting up his face as he pushed away from the door frame and stalked towards her. Despite herself, her traitorous heart fluttered.

  “No one calls me Dwen,” she stuttered pointlessly.

  “Now I can.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Drey.”

  “Not what I meant,” she pointed out, trying to use as much of her royal bearing as possible to get him to listen to her, but she was pretty sure it was wasted on him.

  “That’s not going to work on me,” he replied, proving her point. “I’m not the kind of man easily swayed when he’s decided on something.” The glint in his eye suggested he was on about more than just telling her who he was. She pushed those thoughts aside. She wasn’t used to having them, a
nd even if she was, she shouldn’t be having them about strangers.

  “What are you doing here?” she tried changing tack.

  “I wanted to see the girl everyone was talking about. I must say, I’m surprised to find a beautiful woman in her place.”

  Aledwen’s heart fluttered, and she tried to dampen it. She couldn’t be having this behaviour, even if no one but her knew about it. Even so, the compliment was doing funny things to her. She’d long since accepted that she wasn’t ugly. But she also wasn’t stunningly beautiful. Though it hadn’t been too hard to accept that once she’d realised fae weren’t the ethereal beings from the human’s stories. It’d taken her far longer than she’d have liked to come to that conclusion. She’d been a very sheltered child, and it hadn’t been until a few years ago that she’d thought about sneaking about and learning more about her people. The real side. Not the pretty picture her mother wanted her to know.

  It had always baffled Aledwen why her mother wanted to keep her so in the dark. She was the future leader of the Spring Fae, so why wasn’t she in the loop about...well, what it was to actually be the leader of them.

  “May I have a dance?” the man, Drey, asked suddenly.

  “There’s no music.” She frowned. He’d seemed so normal, if a little intrusive. It wasn’t every day that people walked in on her while she was alone. In fact, that never happened. Unless the someone was her mother.

  “I’ve been told I have a good singing voice,” he supplied, looking very sure of himself. She was becoming pretty sure of him too, especially how his dark eyes sparkled like gems, and voice flowed through her as sweet as honey.

  “I shouldn’t dance with you.”

  He was far too close for her comfort. Or he wasn’t. But she should have been uncomfortable with it. He was most definitely in her personal space. She also most definitely liked it. He smelled Earthy, and if she had to guess, she’d say he was some kind of shifter. Though she had no real way of knowing for sure. She’d not met a shifter as far as she knew, so would have no idea what one smelled or looked like.

  “Why not, Dwen?” His voice was breathy, and she finally began to feel uncomfortable. Though not in the way she should. She’d sneaked out of the palace enough times to have at least some experience in the matter. That didn’t mean she was prepared for it though. Especially not from such a large man. She was tall herself, and he wasn’t that much taller, but that didn’t seem to help. He wasn’t even that broad, though he was clearly in good physical shape, but not overly so. Meaning it was something to do with his demeanor as opposed to his actual size.

  And she liked it. A lot. But she wasn’t ready to let him know that.

  “It’s not proper.” The words slipped out without them intending to, and she slapped her hand over her mouth. She’d sounded like her mother, and that really wasn’t something she wanted. Her mother lived in the dark ages. It was time to bring the Spring Fae into the light.

  Or it would be. If she didn’t end up humiliated.

  Drey didn’t say much, but a knowing smirk crossed over his face, as if he knew what she was thinking about. “Sometimes the best thing to do with proper things is break them.”

  “I’m sure you’re right.” She drew herself up to her full height and fixed him a glare. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to give in to you.”

  Without waiting for him to respond, she pushed past him and stalked from the room.

  “I would expect nothing less, princess,” he called after her. Aledwen’s scowl deepened. He wouldn’t be getting his way. No matter what she did, she wouldn’t be giving in to him until she was good and ready.

  Two

  “That’s the elvish ambassador.” The Queen’s voice was dripping with condescension.

  It was a pointless comment anyway. Aledwen knew that was the elvish ambassador, because she’d spent her childhood learning to recognise the house crests of all the elvish houses. And he had one blazed across his chest. Paige, if she remembered correctly. And she did. There was no chance she was wrong after all the hours of lessons she’d been given. The white starburst on a green background was pretty iconic too. While some of the houses with the same parents had similar crests, this one was recognisable in its individuality. Mostly because House Paige claimed to be descended from the last elvish kings. Complete rubbish as far as anyone was aware, but they kept trying to make it real anyway.

  The man strode towards them, a determined and somber look on his face. “Your Majesties,” he said, dipping a shallow bow that barely hinted at respect. If she hadn’t been in public, and worried that those privileges would be revoked, she’d have said something about it. But the last thing she wanted to do was end up spending the evening in her room alone again.

  The elf stood upright, tall and proud. She could already tell he had a few inches on her. More than Drey had earlier. She ignored thoughts of the other man. He’d been plaguing her mind since she’d left him behind, and she’d more or less decided that if he was at the ball later, then she’d ask him to dance. It was forward of her, there was no denying that. But she hadn’t stopped thinking about him since, and it made sense to do something about that.

  “What can we do for you, Master Paige?”

  Aledwen cringed as her mother’s choice of words made the man sneer. Whoever he was, and for whatever unknown reason, he didn’t really seem to want to be here. And hated her mother.

  “My House sends their regards,” he said stiffly.

  “And ours, to you,” Aledwen replied the formal words she’d been taught as part of her training. His eyes flickered to her, the strange moss green lingering for a moment. He was surprised, she could tell that much, but she wasn’t really sure why. She was just being polite even if her mother wasn’t.

  “They wish to propose a treaty,” he said slowly. His gaze slipping to the side to look back at Aledwen. She couldn’t help but be a little smug he was doing that. Though maybe it was just curiosity and not knowing who she was. Then again, Drey had known who she was already, and she’d never seen him before. And her long, honey brown hair and oval face were almost an exact replica of her mother’s. They barely looked a few years apart in age thanks to fae longevity.

  “We have one,” her mother said curtly, drawing a horrified look from Aledwen. Surely this wasn’t how she should be conducting herself? There was no grace to this. It wasn’t how she’d want her court to be run.

  “A new one.” The man was equally as disdainful of the conversation, which piqued her interest all the more. Something had clearly gone on, whether between the fae and elves as races, or between her mother and the ambassador, Aledwen didn’t know. She wasn’t sure she wanted to either. There were some things that a daughter really shouldn’t know about.

  “What’s the differences in the treaties?” Aledwen asked softly, mostly so she could beat the Queen to it and actually have a proper conversation with the elf.

  “Erh...” The man glanced between the two women, and Aledwen suppressed a smile. He clearly wasn’t sure what to make of her interrupting. From her mother’s pursed lips, neither was she. But while there was nothing she could do about the past, Aledwen would smooth over whatever she could for the future.

  “Well?” she prompted, being sure to keep her voice light and pleasant. Him turning on her like he had her mother wasn’t part of her plan. Though using the word plan was a little rich. She was definitely lacking one. Or even the semblance of one. She really should work on that before opening her mouth.