Fate brought them together, will destiny tear them apart? Lord Sylvin of the Silver Dragon has two missions in life, to keep and protect the Lady Yelena of Elliard, and to fill the gaps of his past. To do the first, he trains as a knight with the Fae Kings army, and in their war against the humans, wins honours, titles, and land – but the years apart from Yelena do not come without a cost, and when he returns, it is with a mistake that both holds promise for their future together, and threatens to destroy it.
Sylvin stood on the highest point of the hill, his eyes scanning across the carnage of the battlefield below. The wind picked up strands of hair that had worked its way free of his braid during battle, its silver catching the setting sun. There were dents in his chest plate from battle, and blood dried in a rust-coloured crust where the spray had struck him, droplets caught in the silver stubble on his jaw.
He was a big man, towering half a head over even the tallest Fae, and years as a knight had moulded shoulders, arms, and legs with muscle. Months of battle and war-camp food had hollowed his cheeks and tightened his waistline.
Absently he rolled his shoulder, judging its injury and the impact it would have when battle resumed, as his eyes travelled over the ruins of the last melee. Bodies laid scattered like leaves in autumn, amongst the litter of dropped weaponry, armour, and amputated limbs.
Fae soldiers and camp followers picked through the bodies, collecting weapons and armour, coin, and jewellery if it could be found, finding wounded loved ones, and making sure that the enemy was dead.
A Fae soldier bent over a panting horse wearing an enemy pennant. The mare lay on her side, her guts spilling out onto the grass from a terrible gash along her stomach. The soldier murmured soothingly, stroking along her nose, and the light caught on his dagger as he dispatched her.
As the mare breathed her last, the Fae man lifted a tear-streaked face to the sky, praying to his god for the innocent animal who had lost her life in a battle that belonged to men and not to horses.
Mage fire glowed red and purple as bodies were thrown upon the bonfires it like tinder. The mage fire burnt clean so that the Fae Kings that camped up the hill would not be turned off their evening meal by the smell of roasting flesh.
Sylvin turned his head easterly. Not far to Elliard, he judged. He could be there within an hour or two and return by morning. It had been months since he had seen Yelena and that sat ill at ease within him. It was not how it should be.
None of this was how it should be, he bared his teeth in a snarl as he turned his gaze back towards the battlefield. Humans spread like a plague across the land, driving back all others before them, cutting down the forests for their fields, forcing other people to live as they lived, worship who they worshiped, to follow their laws and swear to their Kings.
And the Fae, he sneered, turning to look at the war-camp that spread behind him, were proud and arrogant, believing themselves to be the rightful heirs of the land, and all who had come before them to be interesting primitives. They were only minimally better than the humans in that they would let the forests to grow and would leave the ancient people in peace rather than seeking to kill what they did not understand.
"My Lord Sylvin," one of Macedius' pretty Fae mages paused seeing his expression, evaluating the danger of continuing her approach. He eased his expression to neutrality, and she drew in a relieved breath. "King Macedius requests your attendance in his tent."
He did not reply, striding by her, the heavy metal plates of his armour clanging with each step. She followed at his heels, used to his silence.
Deep within the camp, the three Fae Kings' tents circled the neutrality of a central clearing. A table had been set there within a ring of torches, although the night was yet to fall completely - the Fae's night vision was poor, unlike his own.
Each King's tent was a complex multi-chambered arrangement, housing both the King and his company – his servants, pages, squires, and quite often a selection from his harem – and many eyes watched the company that gathered within the circle of torchlight.
Around the table, the three Kings, their Lords, and various army leaders crowded. Lord Rithelwen's sharp boned, handsome face caught Sylvin's eye, and he bit onto his back teeth in displeasure. Lord Rithelwen's lands bordered Elliard and Rithelwen had Macedius' favour.
"They will recoup overnight," Macedius leaned over the table and used a croupier stick to move the figurines that represented the human army across the map that was spread over its surface. "They are gathering here. Our scouts are trying to determine their number."
"Our armies have this night to rest and re-arm," King Talyre continued, and Macedius shot him an annoyed look. "Battle will resume at dawn."
The relationship between the three Kings was complex. Sibling rivalry often broke out between them in peaceful times, as each sought to prove himself and his Kingdom superior, and that rivalry was only just held contained during wartime, when alliance between the three was advantageous to all.
Between them they had a dozen legitimate children, and an uncounted number of illegitimate. When the three died, there would be a bitter and savage battle for their thrones, Sylvin predicted, but, unless someone was successful in assassination, or there was an accident, the Fae lived long lives, and none of the men were old by Fae standards, so that danger was far off.
"So soon?" King Anrellian protested. "We have wounded."
"And so do they," Talyre pointed out. "They will be hoping that we delay a day. We can take them by surprise if we move swiftly."
It would be tight, Sylvin thought, eying off the map over their heads, but he could make it, his eyes judging the distance between the war camp and Elliard.
"Hmm," he reached between two Fae Lords and moved his forces to a better position.
"Lord Sylvin!" Rithelwen scowled, irritated.
"Leave it," Macedius evaluated the new position. "He is right."
"When is he ever wrong?" Talyre noted wryly.
Having adjusted the battle plans to his liking, Sylvin left, ignoring Macedius' protestations, and Talyre's laughter. They were learning that he fought on his own terms, and Talyre, at least, found his refusal to respect their ways amusing. Their ways simply were not his ways, and he had never seen reason that he should adhere to them.
Back at his tent Sylvin gestured to his page. "Get together a small company, quickly. I ride for Elliard," he told him and then turned and raised his eyebrows at the mage that lurked to the side of Sylvin's tent as the page hurried away.
"Macedius won't like that," Cerilius noted. To Fae eyes, the darkness of his robes would swallow all but his hands, the point of his nose, and a slice of cheek and chin into shadow, but Sylvin's vision could see the mage's face in tones of silver, black and white. "But, of course, you don't care."
"Mmm," Sylvin's lips curled in amusement.
"Elliard..." Cerilius stepped forward to stand at Sylvin's side. "Macedius' pet, Lord Rithelwen, has his eye on that Lady and her lands, but you know that, and you don't care to let him have it."
"Yelena is mine," Sylvin replied. "Always has been, always will be."
"And suddenly he is verbose," the mage commented with surprise, and waited to see if Sylvin would offer more. When he did not Cerilius shrugged slightly, accepting Sylvin's silence. "That will be trouble when they find out," he predicted as the page returned with the horse.
"Yes," Sylvin agreed but it did not concern him. He would win the battle on the morrow, and Macedius' irritation would be moderated. He mounted his horse, stroking his hand down its neck. It took time to win over his horses. They did not like him, sensing the predator in him, and this mare still huffed nervously as he neared.
"Where to, My Lord?" One of the knights that were mounted and waiting for him asked.
Greshyn, Sylvin remembered, from one of the new lands Macedius had award Sylvin for his battle prowess, along with the title of Lord that would now enable him to claim what had always been his. Greshyn was trying to establish himself with his new Lord, placing himself near Sylvin's tent, and being at hand when Sylvin called for a company.
"Elliard," Sylvin replied.
"Blessed nuptials," Cerilius chuckled.
Sylvin's teeth flashed as he turned his mare's nose to the east.
But Owen. You can’t just quit your job, sell your house, and run away with a band. People just don’t do that. When her childhood sweetheart Owen breaks off their engagement, quits his job, and sells his house to pursue a career as the lead guitarist of a band, Emily’s world comes crashing down around her. Owen was, after all, her best friend and always had been. They had grown up next-door neighbors, gone to the same school, the same university. They had even bought houses next to each other. They had been each other’s first for everything. Absolutely everything. There had never been anyone else, not even for a moment. Just as Emily begins to find her feet again and form her own plans, Owen’s backup singer calls in sick, and Emily steps in to save the day. Soon she finds herself swept up in a crazy ride to the top of the music industry which might just save her relationship with Owen or end it completely.
"Ahh!" She was in a moaning mess. She did not want to feel anything for this man. She hated him. His hands began to move all over her body. She gasped when he pulled down the back chain of her dress. The chain stopped at her lower waist, so when he zipped it off, her upper back and waist were exposed. "D-Don't touch m-ummm!" His fingers rolled around her bare back, and she pressed her head against the pillow. His touches were giving her goosebumps all over her body. With a deep angry voice, he whispered in her ear, "I am going to make you forget his touches, kisses, and everything. Every time you touch another man, you will only think of me." - - - Ava Adler was a nerdy omega. People bullied her because they thought she was ugly and unattractive. But Ava secretly loved the bad boy, Ian Dawson. He was the future Alpha of the Mystic Shadow Pack. However, he doesn't give a damn about rules and laws, as he only likes to play around with girls. Ava was unaware of Ian's arrogance until her fate intertwined with his. He neglected her and hurt her deeply. What would happen when Ava turned out to be a beautiful girl who could win over any boy, and Ian looked back and regretted his decisions? What if she had a secret identity that she had yet to discover? What if the tables turned and Ian begged her not to leave him?
"There will be no falling in love, we will only act as a loving couple when we are in public, we will share a room to make it believable, but no intimacy, touching is off-limits. We'll only have sex once a month, and that's solely to produce an heir. You won't interfere in my business, and I won't interfere in yours. You will be my wife in every sense and you will not be involved with any other man," he said, arrogance seeping from every word. I watch his mouth move, I'm not ready to fall in love with any man, especially not one as arrogant and egoistic as him. I can handle acting as a loving couple, and as for intimacy once a month. I can agree to that just to satisfy my sexual cravings with no strings attached. "Where can I sign?" I asked since I had nothing to lose. *** Nadine's wedding dreams turned to nightmares when she caught her sister and fiancé cheating! With a secret recording, she's ready for revenge. But then mysterious billionaire Logan West offers a deal: A Contract Marriage to take down her ex's empire. But what Nadine doesn't know is her life is getting complicated as she takes her chance to get revenge or risks everything for a chance at love?"
Iris grew from an orphaned child to the adopted daughter of the Stewart family at age ten, finding warmth in her nominal uncle Vincent's kindness. Seven years later, she became his secret lover. When Vincent's engagement was announced, gossip spread about the notorious playboy CEO finally settling down. But only Iris knew the extent of his cold, two-faced nature. Iris fell for Vincent and, through tears, begged, "Marry me," only to be met with his frosty refusal. Defeated, she accepted a lawyer's proposal, sparking public excitement. Then, on her wedding day, Vincent pleaded desperately, "Don't marry him…"
Linsey was stood up by her groom to run off with another woman. Furious, she grabbed a random stranger and declared, "Let's get married!" She had acted on impulse, realizing too late that her new husband was the notorious rascal, Collin. The public laughed at her, and even her runaway ex offered to reconcile. But Linsey scoffed at him. "My husband and I are very much in love!" Everyone thought she was delusional. Then Collin was revealed to be the richest man in the world. In front of everyone, he got down on one knee and held up a stunning diamond ring. "I look forward to our forever, honey."
Rumors said that Lucas married an unattractive woman with no background. In the three years they were together, he remained cold and distant to Belinda, who endured in silence. Her love for him forced her to sacrifice her self-worth and her dreams. When Lucas' true love reappeared, Belinda realized that their marriage was a sham from the start, a ploy to save another woman's life. She signed the divorce papers and left. Three years later, Belinda returned as a surgical prodigy and a maestro of the piano. Lost in regret, Lucas chased her in the rain and held her tightly. "You are mine, Belinda."
After two years of marriage, Sadie was finally pregnant. Filled with hope and joy, she was blindsided when Noah asked for a divorce. During a failed attempt on her life, Sadie found herself lying in a pool of blood, desperately calling Noah to ask him to save her and the baby. But her calls went unanswered. Shattered by his betrayal, she left the country. Time passed, and Sadie was about to be wed for a second time. Noah appeared in a frenzy and fell to his knees. "How dare you marry someone else after bearing my child?"