The Fae Prince's Fated Mate: M/M Gay Paranormal Romance Read online

  The man had no right to be as adorable as he was. Shifting in his seat, Ash took a deep breath. Hot or not - sleeping with the prince would end in disaster. He was too pure. If he ended up in bed with someone who wasn’t his mate, Voski seemed the sort to cry. Criers were the worst. Better to focus on getting the guy shaped into someone who wouldn’t get his ass handed to him by the modern world on his way to the happily ever after that people like Voski had woven into their destiny.

  Chapter Four

  The movies the warlock showed him enchanted the prince. Mortals loved love. They celebrated it so beautifully, and whether the stories ended in tragedy or wedded bliss, the moments when the couples met stole Voski’s breath away. Fae love stories held with sudden realizations, but the growing of love almost always came on rapidly or not at all in those stories. Fated mates ended happily in Faerie. In all the history of mates in Faerie, Voski had only ever heard one which ended in tragedy, and it was considered rightfully earned as the two mates involved had been his great-grandfather’s uncle who had tried to steal the throne and his witch wife.

  A bell rang through the apartment, and Ash jumped to his feet. “Pizza is here!”

  “Pizza?”

  “Tomato, bread, cheese!” the warlock called back. A man stood at the door, and with an extra of some green paper, Ash took the boxes and kicked the door shut behind him. “I also got wings. I think soda might be a bit too much sugar for you, but if you can handle this, you can actually enjoy the food in the places I’m going to be taking you.”

  Whatever it was, it smelled good and far spicier than the prince was accustomed. Ash grabbed him a plate, putting red saucy chicken thighs and wings onto a plate alongside triangles of what the fae assumed to be pizza.

  “Thank you,” Voski said, shifting to take the plate. As he moved, his eyes caught on the door to the balcony where he had entered the dwelling. “Is that…?”

  Setting his plate down on the table beside the couch, Voski approached the glass, almost holding his breath as his eyes took in the sky. It was not as clear or bright as the poets had described, but the moon hung large and full in the sky with speckles of stars like silver freckles across the velvet darkness.

  When they had first appeared, the bright light of the sun had been nearly blinding. Fae’s glow had its own brightness, but it wasn’t anything comparable to the sun of the mortal world. That ball of fire raged, beaming down and blinding Voski, but the moon and the stars stole his breath away. Night made the world come alive.

  “It’s so beautiful,” Voski whispered.

  Ash came up behind him, glancing over his shoulder. “It’s better further out of the city. Las Vegas is so bright, it’s really hard to see much of anything.”

  The prince smiled, never tearing his eyes from the glittering sky. “Will we get to see the stars further out?”

  “Sure. I can figure something out,” Ash reassured him. “You want to take a quick break before dinner? I can portal us out into the desert.”

  Spinning on his heels to face the warlock, the fae begged, “Can we? Please?”

  When the warlock laughed, he seemed to glow from within, and Voski longed to see him so relaxed and happy for the rest of their time together and beyond. Magic shifted around them, and a doorway opened on the wall beside them.

  “Come on, prince,” Ash beckoned. “Let’s go see those stars.”

  The warlock hadn’t put on shoes, so Voski didn’t either. In bare feet, he stepped out onto the sand. Warm radiated from below. The sun had heated it through the long day, and even well into night, the sand remained warm. Far from the city lights, the sky almost overwhelmed the prince. Black velvet deepened with streaks of blue and purple as glittering orbs of white and red and gold sparkled in the vast abyss of space. A sea he had only heard about in legends. None of that prepared him for the sight of the moon. It hung like a coin in the sky.

  “The glow of Faerie will always seem dull in comparison,” Voski mourned as he stared unblinkingly up into the night sky.

  Pizza in hand, Ash chewed. His golden eyes glimmered like stars in the dark as he stared up solemnly right at the fae’s side. “No stars in Faerie, huh? Sounds lonely.”

  Struck by the words, the fae hummed a non committal note as his only response. He had no idea why, but the warlock spoke true. The empty skies of Faerie with their luminescent emptiness made the world seem so much smaller despite the realms which spiraled out here and there. With all the space above and beyond, stretching in all directions, the mortal world had no end to its extension and to what and who might be waiting there. Perhaps in that, it was lonely. Or - maybe, it was that in the desert with warm sand beneath his feet, Voski found himself with a warlock at his side and no judgement between them.

  Chapter Five

  Standing on the observation deck of the Empire State Building, Ash stared out across New York City. Voski cried at Sleepless in Seattle. Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks made a fantastic couple whenever they were across from each other; however, the comedy of Joe and the Volcano left Voski uneasy and confused to see one actress play three characters. While the warlock thought the prince would prefer You’ve Got Mail, the power dynamic struck the prince.

  “It was personal,” Voski had cried into one of Ash’s pillows. “That was her mother’s shop!”

  Which left the magical meant-to-be romance of Ryan and Hanks in Sleepless in Seattle to take the prince’s heart in fancy. If fate could unite two people in the movies, why not Voski and his mate too? Honestly, with the number of proposals, it seemed a safe place for the fae to observe human romance.

  Voski sat forward. He made no attempt to hide how he stared, following couples as they strolled by with his gaze. Luckily, they were too consumed with each other to notice him, and the one or two people who did likely found themselves less inclined to complain due to his ridiculously handsome face.

  Reaching over, Ash pushed him to leave back against the rail. “Try to blink every once in a while.”

  “It’s so - so…” Voski struggled to put a word to it.

  “Casual?”

  The fae sighed. “They know they’re in love. His arm around her. The way she leans into him. Those women holding hands. Mortal love is beautiful.” His emerald eyes darted to meet Ash’s gaze. “Should we be here? It seems mostly to be couples.”

  “Not everybody up here is in a relationship. There’s a school trip that came through earlier, and at least three single women,” the warlock retorted, nodding toward one of the women. She had the shimmer of longing about her. Undoubtedly a romantic. Leaning closer to Voski, Ash nodded over to her. “Why don’t you try to flirt with that one?”

  Voski followed the line of the warlock’s gaze. The woman - definitely mortal - had large brown eyes that shimmered like warm liquid chocolate. Long brown hair in a multitude of earthen shades poured about her broad shoulders. They carried her ample bosom and matched the swing of her fertile hips, so if the prince had any desire for women, she checked all the classical marks of beauty from her smooth skin to the softness in her hips, thighs, and cheeks. In the end, however, despite her assumed appeal, the prince shook his head.

  “Why not?” Ash pressed.

  Voski shifted, glaring at the floor. “She didn’t come here to be flirted with.”

  “How do you know?”

  Their eyes met, and the prince huffed. “No eye contact. Her eyes are searching, so she wants to see someone in particular. Not just anyone.”

  “Or she’s looking to pick your pockets.” Running a hand through his hair, Ash pushed away, turning to head toward the woman, but he barely made it a step before Voski grabbed his upper arm and pulled him back. “What? I was just going to ask.”

  “Leave her alone,” the prince grumbled.

  He pouted as petulantly as a child. Born to fated mates and royals, Voski likely had a gentle childhood. From the moment he was born, he probably had a cute face and barely cried. Men like him grew up pretty. Beautiful babies to adorab
le children until they blossomed without a single blemish upon their skin or their personality. Just the thought of it turned Ash’s stomach. Princes never wondered where their next meal would be. Never considered the cold as blankets came without being asked, and the clothing provided always kept the chill away. Still, none of this was Voski’s fault.

  If the woman had wanted to stumble into romance, her eyes would’ve stuck to the movie-star prince. Looking at the other two women, Ash dismissed them both as too old. Their rings had something to do with it, but not all mates waited, and if Voski’s mate happened to be mortal, they likely wouldn’t even recognize the pull. Many settled for less than they deserved.

  “If you aren’t going to practice flirting, I think you’ve seen all you need here. Subtle, casual touches,” Ash summed, waving vaguely at the couples that milled about the deck.

  Voski frowned. His face seemed to rebel against the expression, but the weight of his concern settled on the warlock nonetheless. “Do you not like seeing people in love? You liked the movies…”

  “Movies aren’t real.” And that was the wrong thing to say. Sighing, Ash rubbed the bridge of his nose. “They paint a prettier portrait of the world. Love isn’t always sweet.”

  With his smile back in place, Voski replied, “Of course not. All relationships require work, even fated ones.”

  “That’s not - it’s not just that. Even these relationships which seem happy, you have no idea what’s going on behind closed doors,” the multicolored-haired warlock retorted.

  Brows furrowing, Voski reached out, laying a hand upon Ash’s shoulder. “Can we go back?”

  Thanking the universe, the warlock led Voski from the observation deck. They entered the elevator, and as they went down, Ash guided Voski to the back. He spread a glamor before them, and stepping backward into a portal tossed onto the wall behind them, the warlock brought the prince back to his apartment in Las Vegas.

  Arms stretched above his head, Ash shook off the stress of being so close to so many people while holding his tongue. His fingers itched. Even if Voski was a job, gold coins weren’t easy to sell without raising flags. Melting them or slowly introducing them to market wouldn’t give the quick fix a good street trick managed, but as long as the prince was around, he couldn’t take the risk.

  “Why don’t you -”

  Before Ash finished speaking, Voski interrupted, “Who broke your heart?”

  Blinking, he turned, wide-eyed. “What?”

  Already, the fae had dropped his glamor. He sparkled like something out of an Instagram filter. His eyes seemed so kind. Emerald shimmered, ready to cry at a moment’s notice. “You seem to have this shell around you...like you’ve been hurt before.”

  Ash snorted, laughing as he shook his head. “Not everything is about love.”

  “No...but this is.”

  The petulant part of Ash wanted to deny it. His stomach churned at the idea of showing a piece of himself, but the words poured out regardless. “It wasn’t my heart.” Silence stretched. Longer and longer until more flooded. “My mother and father weren’t fated. He had a wife - his fated mate, so even though my mother fell in love with him, she never intended to do anything about it. He was her mentor’s brother. Long story short, he noticed, and they started an affair. She conceived. He claimed she seduced him, and since her talent was potions and love charms, everyone believed him.”

  “But it wasn’t true,” Voski insisted.

  Ash only shrugged. “The guild excommunicated her - and me.”

  Green eyes widened. “You were innocent!”

  “The world doesn’t always care.”

  The prince’s shoulders sagged as tears gathered in his lower lashes. “That’s terrible. Is that why you haven’t met your mate?”

  “What? No. I don’t care about a mate. My mother didn’t have one, and if you believe fate fixed everything up, then her suffering was for what? So my mate could have someone? How is that fair?” Ash scoffed, shaking his head. “I don’t believe in romance. Mates are just pawns brought together by some cosmic writer.”

  Expecting some comment about how his mate was innocent as well, Ash had no idea how to react when Voski’s arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a tight hug. The prince wept. His tears and sniffling felt almost deafening in the face of the fight Ash believed would come.

  Deflating, Ash leaned against the taller man’s strong form. “I think you’ve had a long day. Why don’t you take a nap before dinner? I’m thinking Italian.”

  “But we’re going to Italy tomorrow,” Voski murmured into Ash’s shoulder. With a shuddering breath, he pulled back. “Burger and fries.”

  “Sure, burgers sound great.”

  Chapter Six

  “I regret introducing you to Shakespeare,” Ash grumbled as Voski fawned over the streets of Verona.

  Though the pasta tasted incredible, Romeo & Juliet hadn’t been the sort of romance Ash wanted the fae prince to idolize. No matter what snide remarks he’d made as Claire Danes and Leonardo DiCaprio played their version of the star-crossed idiots, Voski cried and lamented the tragedy of their doomed romance. Teenagers - unable to control their emotions yet expected to decide their future. Even accounting for the ages when individuals commonly married in Italy’s past - or England’s if being more specific to Shakespeare himself - failed to provide sense to the overly dramatic decisions made by every single character.

  If anyone had taken a breath, half the disasters wouldn’t have happened to begin with, but Voski brushed aside reason to embrace the romance. The pair loved each other. Time often proved such relationships short-lived, but in the face of death, that love which burned too quickly and too hot became immortalized.

  Voski raced ahead. “That’s the wall!”

  “I also regret teaching you how to use the internet,” the warlock huffed as he trudged after the prince.

  A brick wall stood ahead of them covered in half-cleaned off gum and stuffed with bits of paper. Some curled into tight spirals. Others folded into tight squares. Loose and crinkled, these letters held a purer sentiment of romance than the play had on its own, so Ash held his tongue. Up higher, a balcony stood. Imaging a dedicated young man climbing the wall seemed reasonable in face of its state, but the idea of a young girl - barely into her teens - proclaiming the disastrous reality of her love as well as her dedication to pursue regardless - exhausted the warlock.

  Running a hand through his hair, he stayed back as Voski read over the names scribbled on the stone. His hands fluttered, but he did not take any of the letters out. Likely, he believed every single one would be answered when fate best suited. The first movie the fae had requested after quickly picking up how to use a computer had been Letters to Juliet.

  To entertain himself, Ash pushed his sight to see the cords attached to the letters. One or two were fresh. Bright knots of pinks and reds about them. Most, however, were dulled in memory. Grayed, those letters sat as memory. Maybe a forgotten one. Something which had been left behind and came to nothing.

  “They always say mortals don’t have fated mates, but seeing this -” Voski gestured at the letters, “-it makes me believe.”

  Ash snickered, glancing at the prince. “Who says mortals don’t have fated mates?”

  “Do they?” the prince asked, and his green eyes shimmered with excitement.

  “Red threads don’t just connect magic users and magical humanoids. I’ve seen them between mortals before,” the warlock informed him, watching the way the other man’s grin grew more and more hopeful. “But they don’t know about them.”

  Voski swooned. He fell back against the wall next to the warlock with a drawn out sigh. “Them not knowing makes it so much more romantic. They can’t explain it, but they can feel it. Two people against the world!”

  “Or that’s why they manage to break those threads without much effort and have it attach to somebody new,” Ash retorted as he rolled his eyes. “Fate is an illusion of manipulative people. Claim
ing pursuing a relationship with someone is fate just excuses all the evil people do to get what they want.”

  Voski’s shoulders sagged. He stared down at his hands as if he could see the red thread around his finger. “Is it so wrong to want someone to protect and who will protect you?”

  “Loving someone that way is poisonous.”

  “But doesn’t it make it all the more wonderful when two mortals decide to be together for their whole lives?” Voski argued.

  Scoffing, the warlock pushed off the wall. “They stay together because they need something from each other. It isn’t love.”

  “If you love someone, you grow to need them.” The prince raced to follow as the shorter man easily wove through the crowd. His multi-colored hair served as a beacon to follow, but the bitterness in his voice clawed at the fae’s heart.

  “Relying on someone isn’t loving them.”

  The words shot straight through Voski. For so long, his fated mate seemed the answer. Trapped in the chains of Faerie court etiquette, the prince held himself up even when he wanted nothing more than to crumble. His fated mate stood as a pillar - a promise of someone who would stand beside him and love him for who he was rather than dealing with the false face he had no choice but to present to the rest of Faerie. When he learned his mate wouldn’t be fae, he wept in relief. Mates changed each other, so meeting his mate sat as a point in his future when he would no longer need to pretend to be someone he was not.

  Dreaming of that future, Voski fell in love with the idea of his mate, but the way Ash spoke, it left a sour taste in the prince’s mouth. He would love his fated mate for more than what they represented, but until they met, Voski could only love them for what he did know.

  “Is that so wrong?” Voski whispered, freezing in his forward momentum.

  The coif of purple and pink hair continued forward without him. With how soft he uttered those four words, Ash might not have even heard him, but where he had adored the thrumming of the crowd - the shared adoration for a romantic tragedy, the movement knocked him around, leaving him stumbling about like a ship lost at sea.