Happily Ever Crowned

  “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”

  – Khalil Gibran

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

  Happily Ever Crowned

  Copyright © 2019 Anna Edwards & Lexi C. Foss

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book may not be redistributed to others for commercial or noncommercial purposes.

  Editing by: Outthink Editing, LLC

  Proofreading by: Jean Chiasson Bachen

  Cover Design: Sanja Balan of Sanja’s Covers

  Published by: Ninja Newt Publishing, LLC

  Digital Edition

  ISBN: 978-1-950694-09-9

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  About Happily Ever Crowned

  Foreword

  Introduction

  1. Valora

  2. Adrik

  3. Valora

  4. Adrik

  5. Valora

  6. Adrik

  7. Valora

  8. Adrik

  9. Valora

  10. Adrik

  11. Valora

  12. Adrik

  13. Valora

  14. Adrik

  15. Valora

  16. Adrik

  17. Valora

  18. Adrik

  19. Valora

  20. Valora

  21. Adrik

  22. Valora

  23. Adrik

  24. Valora

  25. Valora

  26. Adrik

  27. Valora

  28. Adrik

  Epilogue

  Up Next…

  About Lexi C. Foss

  Also by Lexi C. Foss

  About Anna Edwards

  Also by Anna Edwards

  Evergreen Series

  “I do.”

  Two words that signed over my soul to a monster, all to save a kingdom I knew little about. This isn’t a fairy tale. No knights in shining armor, only kings fighting for power. And my heart is the key.

  A game designed to shatter even the harshest of resolves.

  My husband wants to debase me. To break me. To destroy my spirit. To possess every inch of my soul through acts so heinous I can hardly breathe. And he’s using six men to do it. Including him. Adrik, Prince of Noxia.

  Desire.

  Such a wicked twist of fate. Happily-ever-after may not exist here, but amorous energy rises after a night of unbridled passion. A night I should hate, but don’t. A night I long to repeat.

  “I love you.”

  A statement I will never say. Not even to him—my dark prince who plays in the shadows, engaging me in a forbidden dance of hope and adoration. He promises me a new crown, in exchange for my heart.

  Vengeance.

  I will not be owned.

  I will rise above them all.

  And the only crown I will wear is the one drenched in their blood.

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for embarking on this dark fairy tale journey with us. We hope you enjoy Adrik and Valora.

  Just a few words of warning before you begin: There are several violent undertones in this story. While Prince Adrik might be a fantasy come to life, the things Valora’s husband, King Necros, does are quite literally born of Hell.

  Fortunately, Valora is a fighter.

  There will be death. A lot of it.

  And some very sexy scenes between Valora and her prince.

  Enjoy!

  -Lexi & Anna

  This wasn’t how I imagined my wedding day—with darkness swirling around my long, flowing pink dress, shadowing me in the realms of the Underworld.

  But I didn’t live in a fairy tale. I resided in a reality underlined in duty and honor, where I accepted my fate for the greater good.

  Zaya, my lady’s maid, pinned a final clip into my brown hair and stepped back. “You’re beautiful, Valora.”

  I met her pale gaze in the mirror. “Thank you.” My poor attempt at a responding smile didn’t go unnoticed.

  She laid a delicate hand on my exposed shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “It’ll be okay. It’s not like you don’t know him.” Zaya tried to reassure me, but I couldn’t discern whether knowing my soon-to-be husband’s character in advance was a good thing or not.

  Oh, I admired him, even respected him. But desired him, no. Yet, tonight I would give myself to him. Allow his hands to roam my body, to search and explore my skin in a manner no other ever had.

  “She’ll be fine,” my mother—if I could even call her that—interjected and stood. She motioned for me to follow suit, her expression and manner lacking any semblance of warmth.

  It didn’t shock me. I hardly knew the woman, as I hadn’t seen her since my third birthday—the day she and my father had sent me to live in Caluçon with my betrothed’s family.

  A bride in exchange for peace.

  One innocent life forfeited for the lives of thousands.

  To save Graystall, a kingdom I barely remembered yet cherished deep inside.

  “Why you chose pink for a dress is beyond me,” my mother said, her lips twisting into a grimace. “It’s a ridiculous color for someone of our breeding. You should be in black. This’ll bring bad luck. I’m sure of it.”

  “I think it’s nice to have brightness now and then here,” Zaya countered, but my mother shut her down with a glare so powerful it could freeze over hell.

  “It’s okay. I like the color. It’s very me,” I murmured to the girl who wasn’t only my lady’s maid but also my best friend and the only person I trusted in all of the Underworld.

  Her halfling status often gave others the false impression that she stood beneath them, which wasn’t helped by her petite frame and dull brown hair. But I saw a different side of her. A stronger side. One I adored and respected. And I considered her more like family to me than anyone else in the world.

  “You can tell them I’m ready,” I said softly, giving her a smile to help increase both of our confidence levels. She knew as well as I did I was nowhere near ready, but I could certainly fake it.

  “Of course,” she replied, taking her leave with a polite bow.

  After the door closed, I frowned at my mother.

  “Black may be the color to wear in Graystall, but the Caluçon Kingdom prefers color,” I informed her. I bent down to take a last look in the mirror and picked up the tiara of the Royal Family of Caluçon to affix to my head. I rose taller than my mother, for in a few hours, I’d be queen of this place and her equal. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get married.”

  “Wait.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to her. “I need to know that you understand the gravity of today.”

  I nearly laughed. “All I’ve ever known is my purpose for today.” To marry Necros, King of the Dead. There was no other recourse. I would become his indefinitely, do whatever he requested, and live and die by his rule.

  She made an unpleasant noise in the back of her throat. “Valora, we’re relying on you to keep our kingdom safe.”

  “Your kingdom,” I replied flatly. “Yes, I know. But you’re not the one paying the price, are you?” Most wouldn’t dare speak to a queen in this manner, but I had twenty-one years of pent-up emotion over the decision my parents made on my behalf. My mother could
afford to take a little of the emotional burden I wore for just a few seconds.

  “We’re counting on you to make him happy,” she gritted out through clenched teeth. “If you fail, he’ll come for us.”

  “And wouldn’t that be a shame?” I meant it to sound tongue in cheek, but deep down, I shuddered at the thought. Necros adored throwing his weight around in the Underworld and destroying other kingdoms. It would not take much for him to take down Graystall, the only realm left that valued the balance of right and wrong. A land of justice adorned in shades of black, hence my mother’s distaste for my dress.

  “Valora,” she snapped, her queenly tone coming out to play. “You owe your loyalty to your people.”

  “Do I?” I asked, blinking my eyes innocently. I refused to let her see my weaknesses, to witness how much I truly cared deep inside. Graystall would not ever fall on my account. Of that I was certain.

  “This is not—”

  “You realize I’ve spent my entire life living here, trying to save a country I don’t even know, yes?” I interjected, done with her poor attempt to command my will. “All to marry a man I don’t desire,” I added, leaning down to hold her icy gaze—the same startling azure color as my own. “I suggest you not talk to me about loyalties, Mother. Not unless you want to acknowledge your lack of loyalty to me, your only daughter. The sole heiress to the Graystall throne.”

  Not that I would be accepting my position.

  My parents—the Queen and King of Graystall—had made sure of that when they promised my hand to the King of Caluçon. I often wondered if they would create a new heir in my place, but it seemed destiny had other plans for their kingdom of justice.

  Her nails dug into my arm as I tried to leave. “You don’t understand. There’s so much you don’t know. Necros can harness—”

  A sharp knock preceded the door opening. I spun, ready to reprimand whoever dared disturb my quarters without sufficient approval, and fell to my knee in a deep bow. “My Lord,” I breathed, shocked by the appearance of one so revered.

  My mother followed suit, her voice shaking as she said, “My Lord. To what do we owe the honor?”

  The dark presence lingered, saying nothing and everything all at once. My mother’s flinch said he spoke into her mind, and as she left without a word, I realized he’d dismissed her.

  Oh… This couldn’t be good. I expected his appearance, knew he would be officiating today’s ceremony, but this felt unprecedented.

  “Rise, my child,” Lucifer murmured, his tone oddly gentle for one so notoriously cruel.

  I swallowed, righting myself on my high-heeled shoes while keeping my gaze lowered. Except his finger beneath my chin forced my gaze to meet the inky depths of his eyes. Power swirled there. Dominance. Authority. Righteous pain. Stunningly beautiful.

  I shivered beneath the intensity of all those traits, my knees longing to take me to the floor again.

  This being was the most revered entity in the Underworld.

  And he was touching my face.

  He canted his head, his long black hair falling over his broad shoulders. “You have grown into a beautiful woman, Valora,” he praised. “I’m proud. But a true queen bows for no one. Not even for me.”

  “I…” I didn’t know what to say. Everyone bowed to Lucifer. He was the Supreme Being. The fallen angel who ruled us all.

  His lips curled, the smile devastating. “You’ll learn, my child. There’s still so much that rests ahead of you. One day you’ll understand my trials. One day soon.” He released my face and offered me his arm. “May I escort you to the ceremony?”

  As if I could tell the Devil no.

  I slid my arm through his, surprised by the warmth he offered. “Thank you,” I managed to say, my throat tight.

  “Hmm, I’m not sure I’ve yet earned your gratitude,” he replied, leading me down the marbled floor of the corridor. Suit-clad guards knelt at the presence of the greatest power in the Underworld, their shivers rivaling my own.

  How would Necros react to seeing me on Lucifer’s arm?

  How would the people of Caluçon react?

  “With fear,” Lucifer whispered, clearly reading my thoughts. “Which is your right, my child. You’ll see.”

  “I… I’m not sure what to say.”

  “No, I imagine not. Soon, my Valora. Soon.” He pressed his lips to my temple as we arrived at the great hall doors, the walk somehow far faster than I ever remembered it, as if time had played tricks on my mind. And in the presence of Lucifer, that was entirely possible. “Stay strong, my sweet girl. The trials ahead, while daunting, are meant to strengthen you, not weaken you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He smiled, saying, “I know,” and escorted me through the doors into the ceremony.

  My father—who should be the one to walk me down the aisle—stood off to the side with my pale-faced mother.

  Everyone bowed.

  Except for Necros, King of Caluçon.

  He merely seemed amused as he stood waiting at the altar ahead.

  “Ready?” Lucifer asked.

  He didn’t wait for my response. Didn’t care that I screamed a resounding No! in my head. Just began the walk, leading me to my fate, to the powerful male waiting for my forced hand.

  My future husband was over twenty years older than me, not that his features showed it. His handsome face boasted a youthful appearance, only belied by the auburn beard shrouding his square jaw. Tattoos decorated his exposed skin, granting him the symbols of authority and defining him as the King of Caluçon.

  “My Lord,” he greeted, nodding only slightly.

  “King Necros,” Lucifer replied. “Your bride is exquisite.”

  “I know.” His forest-green eyes locked on mine. “You’re stunning, Valora.”

  “You’re looking handsome, too, My King.” It wasn’t a lie. In his all-black suit, he looked nice, distinguished, and full of command. But I wouldn’t call him sexy. Maybe because of the age gap, or more likely a result of him raising me almost as a little sister all these years. I’d always seen him as more of a friend than a husband.

  “You’ve taken excellent care of her,” Lucifer said, releasing my arm. “I expect that to continue.”

  Why would he care? I wondered. This was the first time we’d even met.

  “Of course, My Lord.” Necros cupped my cheek, his smile fond. “And she’ll take care of me.”

  Lucifer’s responding chuckle sent a chill down my spine.

  Why did I sense a double meaning in that phrase? Something important I was clearly missing?

  “She certainly will,” Lucifer agreed. “Let’s begin.”

  Necros guided me to kneel with him before the room, excitement bright in his gaze. It was the kind of look most women wanted to see from their betrothed on their wedding day, but I suspected something sinister lay beneath. It had always been there between us, some hidden desire for more than just my hand in marriage.

  Of course, I knew what would follow.

  How he would take my body.

  But I had a feeling there was just something more. Only, I had no idea what. Aside from being bred and brought up to serve as his wife, I offered very little. No power. No otherworldly qualities. Just a well-educated Daughter of Graystall with an affinity for justice.

  The ceremony began, Lucifer’s ancient words flowing around us in a series of vows and promises that tied my soul to Necros—until death do us part.

  Whatever was mine, I was to share freely.

  To give my husband every part of me.

  To cherish him.

  Adore him.

  Respect and please him.

  To never hurt him in any capacity.

  Protect him.

  And it dawned on me at some point how one-sided this deal truly was—because my husband owed me nothing in return other than protection and the throne at his side.

  Our hands were bound together in a cloth of darkness forged from the crops decorat
ing the banks of the River Styx. They had handed it down through Necros’s family for generations. Special words were spoken, and before I had a chance to understand it all, I was pronounced as married.

  We didn’t even kiss.

  Ice caressed my body, scattering goose bumps down my arms.

  I knew what came next. Had dreaded it for months. But the wicked tilt of my husband’s lips told me this was the part he’d been looking forward to most. For today, at least.

  Consummation.

  It was the only way to properly ensure the validity of our nuptials.

  The merrymaking would happen later—for my husband, anyway. I’d be expected to wait for him to return to me.

  Necros took my arm and led me back down the aisle. I glimpsed my mother and father sitting together but paid them little mind. I was the Queen of Caluçon now, my ties to them officially broken.

  “Are you ready for me, my wife?” Necros growled into my ear. “I know I’ve been ready for this for several years now.”

  I gulped. I shouldn’t show him my fear, but I couldn’t help it. I was terrified.

  The reason his family had raised me was to ensure my virginity on our wedding night. Necros would be the only man to touch me intimately. To fill me with his seed and ripen a child in my belly.

  “I’m scared,” I admitted, the words hoarse to my ears.