Page 1 of Forgiving a Fae Warrior

Chapter 1

Galensatonabench with his head in his hands as the long night drew toward morning. Dawn wouldn’t be too far off, but the sounds of the party to celebrate the end of the annual games still carried through the night. Some would drink and dance well into the next day. By rights, he should have been one of them—he had much to be thankful for. He’d beaten dozens of others to make it to the final trial, and though he hadn’t won, he could have.

The answer to the final question had struck him like a bolt of lightning.Trust.He was so certain of it that the word rose to the tip of his tongue and would have spilled out into the tent where the final game was held if one of the other contestants hadn’t chosen that moment to shout their guess. During the full silence that hung in the air before their answer was deemed incorrect, Galen had spied Wren, the human woman who had made it to the finals against all odds.

The utter devastation written on her face twisted something sharp in his middle. Winning was her one way home, the only way to break the bond that Sigurd, King of Air, had imposed upon her. If she lost, that chance would be gone. She’d be forced to remain in Faery until the bond faded, which could take years. The family she left behind didn’t have that kind of time, and Galen knew all too well the pain of being separated from loved ones. It was why he entered the competition after all.

Every day he thought of Sylvie, the woman he loved and had left behind when he fled the Court of the Forest after betraying its king, all at the orders of Sigurd, King of Air.

Years ago, Galen’s father had been insistent that his son follow in his footsteps as a loyalist to the Court of Air, serving their king by vow while living amongst the Forest Court. As a child born of two courts, Forest and Air, he could belong to either or both. But Galen wasn’t quite like his father. He never had been. He took the vow to Sigurd to please his parents, never thinking that it would one day be called in, that he would be forced to betray the king and court he had chosen to follow—his home, his true family, and that of the woman he loved.

No one could reverse time, but if he were able, he’d go back and convince his younger self to save all his oaths for Sylvie.

The winner of the competition could drink from the ancient cauldron and have a wish granted. It could deem his oath fulfilled and allow him to return to the Court of the Forest. They may not want him there, not after what he’d done, but he’d do everything in his power to see Sylvie again, even just one more time.

She was fierce, confident, a bright spot of light in any room she entered. The human woman Wren was much the same with her determination and inner strength that he couldn’t help but admire her, and she’d been loyal to him throughout the games.

Wren had once claimed that she could convince Sigurd to free him of his vow. Though Galen loathed and doubted the man, those feelings did not extend to Wren, even if she somehow found it in her heart to care for the king who’d made him a traitor in the eyes of the Forest and the woman he loved.

Sigurd had betrayed Wren, too, in a way, binding her to him through ill magic and preventing Wren from returning to the human world and her family there. But still, she found it in her to care for him, to trust him. And so, when Galen puzzled out the riddle in the final game, he did exactly what the answer instructed—he trusted. Wren had only one way home, but he might have another if she could convince the king to free him as she believed.

By some stroke of luck, Wren had noticed him as he stared at her during that last trial as his heart threatened to hammer out of his chest. She understood the word he mouthed to her. Every second that passed, someone else might have figured out the answer and spoken it aloud to claim victory.

But they didn’t.

Wren won and held true. She asked the king to fulfill the wishes of the other finalists if he could, and by some miracle, Sigurd agreed. That included removing the balance of the oath Galen had long ago sworn to Sigurd. He was free now, but the shackles on his soul felt heavy as ever, pressing on his shoulders and squeezing his chest like a band of iron.

The lingering force of his vow to Sigurd gave had given him a goal: be released of it. But he hadn’t stopped to think of what came next. With the vow gone, there were no excuses to keep him from facing down the consequences of his actions, and that was an even more brutal struggle to overcome. Nothing stopped him from returning to the Court of the Forest right that moment. Nothing…but himself.

If he returned now, would they bother to hear him out before slaying him on the spot as a traitor? He couldn’t be sure.

In all his musings, only one of the potential ideas that had developed in his mind glimmered with the possibility of success. It was risky in so many ways and would be difficult to achieve, but it was something. And so, he clung to that little thread of hope and followed it through, adjusting his steps as he went along.

Galen sighed and shifted on the bench. That plan was the reason he’d chosen this particular spot. Not far away loomed the tent of the King of Air, his elite guards posted around the outside to ensure his safety and privacy on this night. Wren was in there with him. He knew without being told, though his suspicions were confirmed when he inquired with the guards.

He might not understand her love for the king who had bound her to this court, but the king’s willingness to break tradition and grant the wishes of the finalists—to the extent he could—showed exactly how much he cared for her.

By any luck, he’d be able to see Wren again before Sigurd stole her away to his castle or let her return to her world. Though she might love the king, Galen knew it wouldn’t stop her from returning to care for her family. It was just one more thing he admired about her.

Perhaps without Sigurd in the way, they could have been friends. She’d called him such, and though he wanted the same, the winged specter of the king would always be an obstacle between them.

Not to mention that she would probably loathe him after this night.

As if his thoughts summoned her, Wren exited the king’s tent alone. Even from a distance, he could make out her tousled hair and rumbled clothing. His cheeks heated, and he forced himself to look away—back down at his boots.

Galen pulled in one deep breath after another, trying to steady the nerves threatening to tear him apart. His fingers dug into his hairline almost painfully as he grappled for control of his emotions.

Have courage.

The crunch of footsteps, barely audible over the lingering noise of the party coming from some distance behind him, alerted Galen of the guards’ approach with Wren. They would have told her his request to meet with her, and kind woman that she was, she came to see him.

But even if not for that sound, he would have felt her approach. She bore Sigurd’s mark now, so much stronger and more acute a thing than the bond he’d placed on her before, which the cauldron had removed as part of her victory. Sigurd’s scent clung to her, drifting along the faint night breeze and turning his stomach.

She was more than just a human favored by the king now. She was his chosen, his bonded mate, possibly even his future queen. After all, the king, for all his faults, wasn’t known to take lovers, particularly not human ones. Wren was different. Special. Not only that, as a human, she would strengthen his magic and that of the entire court. She was a wise choice, and Sigurd did care for the well-being of the Court of Air.

“Thank you,” Wren said to a guard. “I’ll be fine with my friend.”

Her friend.The title only made everything worse.

---