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151 pages

English

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“Love is an illusion that gets people to do the impossible.”
-Ro McBay
Can….
-one half-blood princess without magic,
-one fae princeling without scruples,
-one human warrioress without compassion, and
-one vampire lord without willpower
team up to find an artifact that can save the human and fae realms from shadow demons and not destroy each other.
In this enemies-to-lovers final installment of Roisin McBay’s journey into darkness, the half-blood princess of Spring must choose to either damn herself or damn the realms.

Sujets

Fiction

Fantasy

Informations

Publié par	Xlibris US
Date de parution	09 juillet 2023
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9798369400180
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Realms Novels
Of Blood And Sacrifice - Book 1
Of Rogues And Monsters - Book 2
Of Starlight and Shadows - Book 3

Other Novels by Mary Ann Hinrichs
The Crossing
OF STARLIGHT AND SHADOWS

Book 3

Mary Ann Hinrichs

Copyright © 2023 by Mary Ann Hinrichs.

Library of Congress Control Number:
2023911045
ISBN:
Hardcover
979-8-3694-0017-3

Softcover
979-8-3694-0019-7

eBook
979-8-3694-0018-0

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 07/07/2023

Xlibris
844-714-8691
www.Xlibris.com
848418
Contents
Author’s Note:
Every Ending Begins Somewhere…

Thresholds

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four

Enemies and Allies

Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine

Quests of a Deadly Sort

Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-Five

The Return of Stars

Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One

To the readers:
Glossary of Terms

For my sisters of blood and soul -
Linda - You taught me kindness, showed me compassion, and gave me love.
You are proof angels exist.
T - My imagination blossomed with you first. We are fae sisters at our core.
You are proof magic exist.
Char - The sister of my soul. Your faith has been my strength. We are eternally bound.
You are proof miracles exist.

Illustration designed by: Shaun Donovan
Author’s Note:
-There’s a glossary in the back of the book. :)
Warning: Mature Language

Every Ending Begins Somewhere…
All legends start with a spark of truth, a truth so unimaginable, so inconceivable, it can only be a lie.
For most, legends begin from a piece of childish wh imsy.
But for others, legends are most often born from whispers in the night and shadows curled into corners; from creaks along the floorboards and spine-climbing shivers. Legends so monstrous they are rendered lies else there would be no survivors to spread the unspeakable tales, no harbingers to announce the unthinkable terrors to come.
Such Legends are turned into tales; lies for those who seek to find comfort within their own terrible sto ries.
Fables started as wishes only to end in devasta tion.
Sagas stirred from shattered promises and unreliable good will.
Epics conceived of desperate choices and unbearable conseque nces.
Myths built upon honor, loyalty, and hope, only to crumble into piles of eternal disappoint ment.
Of all the lies ever told, the greatest is the legend of man. Of earthly hearts tethered to forgiving souls. Of mortal compassion and its merciful benevolence. Of humankind’s preference to love others as they might love themse lves.
From this Truth, mankind has been rendered an unmatchable power. A power so consuming Light scurries into shadows and Darkness hides amongst the starlight, leaving only the gods to walk amongst the many legends of man.
Thresholds

“There is nothing more difficult to take in hand,
more perilous to con duct,
or more uncertain in its suc cess,
than to take the lead in the introduction
of a new order of th ings.”
- Niccolo Machiavelli

“...to be free with fairies, or to disbelieve in them altoge ther,
is as foolish a thing as man, woman, or child ca n do.”
- Crofton

Chapter One

Spring Court of Faery
Over a month had passed since Ro had lost her soul, her very self.
Yet, she had never felt more her self.
More comfortable in her own skin, her new immortal skin . Skin that never aged, wrinkled, or died. And in this new, enduring skin, Ro had stopped being the fool. Stopped believing in fairy tales, happily-ever-afters, and love. Stopped believing immortals were gods who lived forever. Stopped believing humans were the lesser beasts, the kinder monsters.
And Ro’s reborn self, wrapped in soulless skin, had learned a few important lessons.
She had learned truth was closer to misery than it was to freedom.
She had learned loyalty came at a price.
She had learned friendship was an earned occupation.
She had learned love was more about lies.
She had learned a soul blinded, made its owner weak and stupidly careless with its other half - the heart.
And most of all, Ro had learned living without a soul was essential if one was to survive ruling a fae kingdom.
During her first week as the newest sovereign of the flowery Spring Court, Ro realized governing immortals was definitely no fairy tale. The court Eriu, the Queen of Faery, had forced upon Ro was nothing short of organized chaos. From the moment she had stepped foot into the fiefdom’s blossoming horizons, it had been anarchy.
If it wasn’t water sprites causing tavern brawls over whose wings attracted the most suitors, then it was forest pixies trapping will-o-the-wisps in glass jars and using the tiny, delicate fae to light up their treetop homes. Or it was the mossy winged faeries, otherwise known as greenies, whose only occupation seemed to be consuming barrels of sweet wine and pulling pranks on unsuspecting gnomes merrily digging in their gardens. Or it was the nixies, the persuasive river sirens who called to fishermen on the human side of the veil, luring them into Spring only to feast on their flesh after days of bedsport. And if that wasn’t enough, Ro had to deal with selkies and mermaids fighting over oceanfront property lines.
It was constant mayhem.
It was exhausting.
It was mind-numbing.
It was immortal torture.
With a bit of creative negotiating, Ro might have been able to handle most of the disorder running rampant in her court, but the narcissistic fae beings who considered Ro an usurper to Spring’s throne, who believed Ro was nothing more than an unworthy half-blood made immortal by their spiteful queen, road blocked her every move.
The fae of Spring didn’t want equity amongst their kind. Nor did they believe in order, transparency, or efficiency. And they especially despised accountability. Most fae ignored Ro’s attempt at democracy and went on with their pranking and fighting. While some flipped her off with their exquisitely painted middle fingers and sauntered casually away as if Ro had suggested nothing at all, a few of the more daring fae went as far as leaving Ro threatening gifts - a crown of iron spikes and a choke collar fashioned out of daggers - in hopes she would simply run away or, at the very least, shut-up.
Hate was too mild of a word to describe how these otherworldly beings looked upon their newest princess. Hostility, abhorrence, loathing, disgust were far better descriptors. And so the fae of Spring simply bided their everlasting time, waiting for the opportunity to plunge an iron stake through Ro’s heart.
But Ro was not discouraged. Not yet. She knew exactly how stubborn the fae were, how absolutely vile and pigheaded and self-absorbed.
And to survive this new level of hell, Ro was going to need to be just as vile, just as ruthless. The question was - could she?
On the Winter Solstice, the night Ro had given her soul to the Queen of Faery, her life had become the living definition of Murphy’s Law - anything that could go wrong did go wrong - and then some. On that night, Ro had lost not only her mortal soul, but any power Ro possessed had also fled her new, immortal body. She had nothing, not a spark of magic or an inkling of power in which to save her mother from eternal banishment or her father from being deported to the Winter Court. Ro had nothing in which to fight the powerful fae queen, nothing to use against her own, bloody grandmother - absolutely nothing.
Evidently, one human soul equaled one powerless, but immortal life.
It had been a devastating lesson in fae politics because now, well now, Ro was simply soulless. Without a mother, a father, a best friend, a horse, or a cat, Ro was nothing but the magicless, soulless, half-blooded princess of Spring who sucked at her job.
If Eriu hadn’t forced Ash, the former commander of Autumn’s legions, and Quinci, Finbar’s elfin sister with an attitude, to be Ro’s sidekicks, ruling Spring would have been impossible.