The Lost Queen

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Wren is twenty-four and has survived more tragedy than most. After her family is slaughtered as an infant, Wren is smuggled from the Fae kingdoms in the dark of the night. Raised in the human realm, Wren is starting to notice strange goings on around her. She is seeing things that aren't there, feeling calls and hearing voices whispering to her, and more than anything she feels this urge for something she does not know what. When the truth is revealed, that she was never human, her world is turned upside down. Returned to the kingdoms she was once smuggled from, she is thrown into the world of court intrigue, politics, murder plots, and the annual gathering for between the courts to find their soul mates. With the attention and help of the sexy, mysterious soldier Kellen, and passionate rebel Rayne, will Wren be able to cope in a world where the gods choose who you love? Will she find out who and what she really is? Will she survive unlocking the secrets to her dark history, and possibly save her people?

Fantasy / Romance
5.0 10 reviews
Age Rating:

Prologue: Escape

A/N: Hello everyone! Welcome to The Lost Queen! Wren is a character dear to my heart, and I hope everyone here loves her and her journey. If you enjoy or have any feedback please take the time to leave a review, comment, and like! It goes a long way! Thank you for your time,

Lots of love,

The rain cascaded from the heavens, as the tears of the gods themselves poured to the Earth. Rivulets ran from the trees; splashes pounded the ground as the soldier’s boots ran. Five of them, cloaked in absolute darkness, running across the countryside. Smoke and bangs rang from behind them, but they had no time to look back. They darted across the landscape faster than a human eye could catch.

The incandescent moon hovered over the vast grassland, illuminating their way. The dark treeline was ominous on the side lines, yellow eyes staring out from the darkness. Shadows rushed between the trees, serpents waiting to strike. They moved in formation with an eerie grace, men used to work with one another. They watched behind them for signs of pursuers as they ran, blades at the ready. The soldier in front huffed, and adjusted the bundle strapped to her chest. A quiet wail rang from the small bundle, she shushed it, then moved the cloth to cover more of its head.

“Ryder, where are we taking her?” The second in command sidled up to her left and asked. They didn’t pause their stride as they conversed. The first soldier nodded her head towards the forest line in the distance.

“To the only place they won’t find her.” She said ominously. She ran her fingers through her dirty brown hair, tangled and knotted from running in the wind. Her pointed ears twitched in the cold. The second soldier gulped, and his eyes widened when he realized where she meant. He glanced at the bundle in her arms and patted the squalling infants head.

“I can’t believe he burned them all alive.” Hawke choked. His voice thick with emotion. He shook his head to clear it. Now was not the time. He then signalled the other men toward the forest. They approached cautiously, weapons at the ready. Branches cracked; bushes rustled around them. We used our preternatural senses to alert us to the animals in the woods. As we approached the barrier, the air grew cold, their breathes were visible in puffs before their faces.

The air began to shimmer, the illusion of the veil opening to reveal an alleyway in the city. Cars passing on the busy road in the distance. Ryder approached the barrier and squared her shoulders. She took deep breaths, and slowly reached a handout to touch the veil. Static electricity sizzled along her palm. She turned around to face the four men remaining with her.

“Hawke, you’ll come with me. The fewer who know her exact whereabouts the safer she will be. Jameson, Alcott, Stroud you three will return to court and cover our tracks. Swear allegiance to the new king.”

As Ryder spoke, a dark tendril shot out from the darkness, its gripped Alcott in a vice and dragged him back through the woods. His scream echoed in the night. The men jumped to action, silver swords at the ready, they swung at shadows in the darkness. Ryder unsheathed her large sword and spun, hacking at shadows, black blood spurt across her face. She jabbed and lunged, attempting to drive the forces away from her men.

A hand gripped her shoulder and wrenched her back. She cried out and turned to see Hawke gripping her arm. His brown eyes were determined, and his black hair hung in his face in sweaty tendrils. He shoved Ryder toward the barrier.

“Ryder, go! She is the priority!” He screamed and hacked at another figure. Ryder swallowed and nodded. She flung her dirty clumps of hair out of her face and lunged, hands out into the barrier. Electricity shot across her body and she hugged the squalling infant, suddenly she was falling forward, into another world. She closed her eyes and braced for impact, hoping Hawke would be behind her. She uttered a prayer to the gods for the souls of her men.

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