Chapter One
Achill Island, Ireland
End of July
Tonight was the same as countless others. Same captivating speech by her brother. Same engrossed faces, watching him with a mixture of awe and reverence. Same security in place, ensuring that the star—her sibling—was safe.
But something was off.
Fianna methodically scanned the faces in the room, looking for anything that might tell her who was responsible. But no matter how hard she looked, she couldn’t find it. No one appeared out of place. Then again, few rarely did during the first meetings. Because that’s what this was. The first of three gatherings before Dorcha chose who would be welcomed into their organization.
She remained in the shadows, inspecting each face of the thirty gathered to put them to memory. It was her duty to spot trouble. And she was damned good at it. While her brother had a silver tongue that could enrapture a room with just a few words, her skills ran to battle, weapons, and magic. She detested being the center of attention and was quite happy fading into the background.
Movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned her head and spotted her brother as he made his way to the makeshift stage that had been erected just for him in the ballroom. Their gazes briefly met. Dorcha shot her a wink before he put a huge smile on his face and waved to the gathered crowd.
She had no idea how he did this night after night. He thrived on it, while the very thought of repeating the speeches made her want to gouge her eyes out. Then again, Dorcha didn’t understand why she loved to train daily or got such a thrill from maintaining his security. They were, as their father often said, as different as night and day.
Fianna looked to the door and saw latecomers entering just as her brother’s voice filled the room. She paid no attention to Dorcha. Her job was to keep an eye on those who attended in case anyone made an attempt on her sibling’s life. Few truly understood how important Dorcha was.
But they would soon enough. Everyone always did.
The entirety of her and Dorcha’s lives had led up to what was about to come to fruition. Fianna had trained tirelessly, became proficient at ancient magic that had been forgotten, and learned to fight with a unique set of weapons. While Dorcha had absorbed knowledge from archaic scrolls and perfected his speaking voice.
Fianna waited until the door had closed behind the last individual before she made her way around the perimeter of the room. Their meeting place was none other than Moorehall. It had a striking edifice with dark gray stone set against the vibrant, verdant surroundings. At times, she gazed upon the splendor of the manor and felt sorry that humans couldn’t witness such breathtaking grandeur. Thanks to Fae magic, the mortals believed the manor was haunted and nothing but a crumbling house that had been neglected and forgotten.
Fianna moved slowly, keeping far from the guests. Her security team was set up throughout the house. Some were stationed purposefully to be seen, while others were hidden so as not to draw attention to themselves.
Once she made it to the other side of the stage, she set up in her customary position and continued scrutinizing those gathered. With her brother’s voice droning on in the background, she noticed that most laughed at his jokes, nodded their heads in agreement, or clapped with enthusiasm at his comments. But not everyone. Her attention locked on the three who did none of those things.
Two males stood at the back with their arms crossed over their chests and looks of discontent on their faces. Their heads were tilted towards each other as they spoke in whispers, alerting her that they had most likely come together. She nodded to two guards nearest the pair and jerked her chin to the men. Her people had stationed themselves to intervene should it become necessary.
And a couple of times, it had been necessary.
People didn’t always like what Dorcha had to say. But it needed to be said, and if he were the only one strong and brave enough to say it, then it fell to him. Fianna would be there to make sure no harm came to him. He had a great destiny ahead of him—a calling that would change the Fae forever.
Her gaze slid to the other guest, who made no motion of agreement in reaction to her brother’s words. The male stood tall, his gaze steady as he observed Dorcha. Fianna leaned to the side to get a better view of him. He wore a black leather racing jacket over a solid gray tee, which prohibited her from seeing more of his physique other than his broad shoulders. His thick, black hair was trimmed short, the kind of cut a male wore when he didn’t want to be bothered with styling his hair. He had a strong, clean jawline, a regal nose, and full and utterly sexy lips.
Handsome? He was definitely that. But there was something else about him. An air of danger, maybe? The fact that she couldn’t figure him out as she did others intrigued her. Perhaps a little too much because she could never turn away from a puzzle. And he was, without a doubt, a mystery.
He shifted slightly, taking in a deep breath that lifted his shoulders as he stuffed his fingers into the front pockets of his jeans. She noticed his gaze moving about as if he were sizing up those around him. Fianna was instantly on alert. The first meetings brought in all sorts of Fae, and the larger crowds made her extra vigilant. However, she had to remind herself that this gathering was one that led to something special—as all first meetings did. Perhaps this male suspected that and was looking out for himself.
Her stomach fluttered when the Fae’s lips suddenly turned up slightly at the corners, transforming his handsome face into something…breathtaking. Fianna instinctively took a step back. She wanted to run to her room and put as much distance between herself and the male as she could. Forget every second since she had laid eyes on him. But that wasn’t an option for her. Not now, at least.
She forced herself to hold her ground and look anywhere but at his face. Little by little, she gained control of her suddenly erratic and foolish emotions. It had been a long time since she had been so…overcome. She was grateful that neither Dorcha nor her father had witnessed the episode. Yet even when she had control of herself, she didn’t dare look at the Fae again. That would be idiotic, and she was anything but.
Well, most days anyway.
One of the female guards took a half-step forward from her position, drawing Fianna’s gaze. Fianna followed the guard’s line of sight and saw what had gotten her attention. One of the guests had noticed that the male she had been ogling—or rather, watching—hadn’t been smiling or clapping. The guest’s growing frown alerted Fianna that he was about to take action. She snapped her gaze to the guard nearest the male and gave a nod.
Dorcha’s meetings had a way of exciting most in the room to his cause. And, sometimes, they took it as an insult when others didn’t display the same sort of enthusiasm. Fianna had trained her people well. There was no need to tell them what to do as they observed everything. They all noticed what was going on and simply waited for her to give the cue.
Fianna watched as the guard came up alongside the riled guest and said a few words in his ear. The Fae instantly calmed and returned to his position. And, just like that, the situation was defused.
Unable to help herself, Fianna’s gaze swung back to the Fae who had caused such a stir in both the other guest and her. Only to find his eyes locked on her. Her lungs seized, her heart skipped a beat, and the very air became charged with surprise—and curiosity. She was hidden. And yet, this Fae had somehow located her. She was captivated. That, in combination with her reaction to him, was a sign that she should stay far, far away from him.