The Lightning-Struck Heart (Tales From Verania, #1)

by T.J. Klune

He sounded really bitchy when he said it, but if you were a hornless gay unicorn, you’d be bitchy too.

“I’m not a prude! I just don’t see why we have to talk about sex all the time. Or your parents being in orgies!”

“I don’t have time for all the relations and courting and wooing bullshit,” I said. “I’m a wizard. I have quests.” “Uh, you’re an apprentice,” Gary said. “And you’re sent on errands.”

“When were you tied up?” I asked again. “You’re still on that?” Gary asked. “Ugh.” “You brought it up.” “Fine! It was that centaur we met last year. In the elf realm.” “You said you were just friends!” “We were. We were just the kind of friends that tied each other up and pushed our penises together.”

Once, a man had tried to rob her in an alley. The man no longer has testicles. “What happened to his testicles?” the boy asked when he was four. The mother grinned. “I threw them in the sewer.”

“My lord,” my father said. “Please excuse my idiot child. He was dropped on his head repeatedly when he was a baby.” “Hey!” I growled at him. “You said you only did that twice. What do you mean repeatedly?” “It would certainly explain a lot,” Morgan said. “Does he ever stop talking?” “No,” my mother said. “Never.”

My dad growled, “If you touch my son, I’ll cut off your arms and beat you with them.” “Wow,” I said in complete adoration. “That was graphic and amazing.” My mom said, “And I’ll cut off your legs and shove them so far up your anus that you’ll taste your feet at the back of your tongue.” “Dudes,” I whispered to everyone. “That’s my mom.” Morgan said, “And I’ll make your nipples explode.”

Knight Ryan Foxheart. Soon to be Knight Commander Ryan Foxheart. The dreamiest dream to have ever been dreamed. The current holder of all my masturbatory fantasies. (“Oh, who’s a bad knight? You’re a bad knight. You’ve been so bad that I’m going to joust with your butthole.”)

He pulled me up until I stood before him, and I didn’t think I’d ever been this close to him before. I was terribly amused to see I was taller than him by an inch or two, and the fact that he had to look up at me to meet my eyes would no doubt play a further part in my You’ve Been A Bad Knight scenario as soon as I got to my bed. I am going to masturbate to you so hard later, I thought while looking at him. I blushed then because I realized that made me super creepy and I didn’t feel sorry about it at all.

I didn’t want to go to my room. I wanted to go see Gary and bitch and moan and braid his mane and have him tell me that Justin was a giant cockfucker and I was so much prettier than him.

“AND HE WAS JUST SO AMAZING,” I said as I braided Gary’s hair. “Like so selfless and awesome and he smelled like leaves and I think his eyebrows should be declared a treasure of the Kingdom.” “Oh my gods,” Gary muttered. “This has been going on for forty-seven minutes.” “Did I tell you he knew my name?” “Sixteen times.” “Oh. He said it twice.” “Holy fuck on a stick.” “He is.” I sighed. “What happened to your priorities?” “I still have them,” I said, weaving a strand of crocus my mother had grown through the braid. They were purple and matched the dye I’d put in before I started braiding. “I just like looking at nice things. And want to touch them with my mouth.” “You want to lick his balls,” Gary said, just to see me sputter and flush brightly. “Shut up,” I managed to say, pulling the braid tightly and causing him to wince.

I winked at myself in the mirror and then realized that’s what douchebags did, so I vowed to never do it again.

I pulled on the black trousers that showed off my ass. And apparently my balls, because they were that tight. I wondered just how many awkward conversations that would lead to.

Needless to say, I looked like a high-end prostitute when I was summoned from my room. “I would let you stay the night and then have you for breakfast,” Gary said. “That is… strangely nice,” I admitted. “Thank you. I would also have you for breakfast as well.” He sighed. “Too bad you’re like my older sister. We could have been something special.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Older? You’re seventy-six!” “Boo, you whore,” he said. “Now it’s your turn to tell me how amazing I look.” He pranced around me in a tight circle. “You don’t look seventy-six at all,” I said. He glared at me. “Try again.” “You look wonderful.” “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.” “Joy. Sustaining your ego is my life’s work.”

“Make sure you don’t sneeze or fart tonight, okay? Your pants are so tight, I’m pretty sure they would rip. Wouldn’t want Knight Delicious Face to get a sample of the goods along with everyone else.” I groaned. “If you look close enough, you can see everything. It’s like I’m an advertisement for circumcision.” He looked closely. It was very disconcerting to have your gay unicorn best friend studying your penis that intensely. Finally, he gave his verdict. “It’s a very nice penis.” “Thank you.” Because it was. “Not as big as mine, though.” “Goodbye, self-esteem and fuzzy feelings. It was so nice to make your acquaintance.” “Bah,” Gary said. “Knight Delicious Face won’t know what hit him.”

“You’re not asexual, Sam.” “Don’t judge me! You can’t tell me how to live my life! Let me spread my beautiful wings so I can fly.” “He’s not asexual,” Gary told Morgan. “He has wet dreams and moans dirty things about chest hair.” “That was one time.” Okay, more like six times. “More like six times,” Gary said, and I decided we seriously needed to set up some personal boundaries. “You vile betrayer.” “Ryan Foxheart naked while lying in a vat of fruit and cream,” Gary said. “Whoa,” I breathed, because whoa. Then I shook my head. “Dammit.” “It was way too easy,” Gary said.

Morgan hugged me, which was such a rare and absurd thing that I had no choice but to hug him right back. He said, “I won’t force you, Sam. I told myself a long time ago that nothing for you would ever be forced. But sometimes, for the good of the Kingdom, we must make decisions we do not like. So, we can either walk and hide away in the labs, or you can stand tall and true and show all of those people in there that Sam of Wilds is not a man to be caught and tamed.” “You eloquent bastard,” I groaned. SO I DID.

He was tall and muscular with a scar going from his chin to his ear that I supposed made him look rather dashing. Too bad he was eyeing me like a piece of meat. “Sam of Wilds,” he purred, taking my hand and kissing it as he bowed. I thought I felt the flash of tongue. “I would be honored if I could be your first… dance.” And then he winked. I guess it was meant to be playful and seductive, but I was pretty sure I was being molested. “Okay, Captain Bad-Touch,” I said, pulling my hand back. “That’s quite enough of that.” He stepped forward and started to crowd me, and I rolled my eyes, because really? Really? I smiled sweetly up at him and said, “You do realize that I can turn your dick into so much running pus with just a flick of my wrist, right?” I actually really couldn’t, but he didn’t know that. His eyes widened, and he took a step back. “I don’t want to dance with you because you’re kind of rapey,” I said. “It’s the eyes.” Morgan snorted from somewhere behind me. Captain Bad-Touch left with an angry look on his face, muttering something about me being an uptight bitch. Rude.

Morgan choked behind me as the third guy handed me his late grandmother’s ashes and said, “I want you to have her because after we get married, it will be the three of us, and I want you to get used to the weight of her since she’ll always be around.” “You are so epically strange,” I told him. He grinned at me and told me his grandmother liked to waltz, so she’d be dancing with us too. But then he seemed to get jealous of me and said he really didn’t like it when other people danced with her. I gave him back his grandmother and said that I didn’t want to come between them, and maybe it was better if they just danced with each other. He nodded, looking relieved. I made a mental note to find King Anthony later and kick his royal ass.

“A man licked my hand,” I told my mom and dad as the wine proceeded to loosen my lips. Dad grimaced and said, “That doesn’t sound very comfortable.” “If you had tried to lick my hand when you courted me, I would have had mamia throw you into a fire,” Mom told him. “So violent,” I whispered. My parents were hardcore. “Which one?” Tiggy asked. “I smash him.” “Everyone I love would kill for me,” I announced loudly.

He had big ears that stuck out. His hair was brown and his eyes were brown and his freckles were brown, and I told him all of this because I felt like he should know.

The blood drained from his face. “You’re not going to send me away like the others?” “Do you want me to?” He gulped. “Maybe? Because awkward talking I can do. What if I accidentally trip and fall and knock you down and then you turn me into a rambunctious tea cozy?” “Oh my gods,” I said. “You could!” “You’re scared of me!” “Um, yes? A lot of people are scared of you. You’re pretty intimidating.” I looked at Morgan, who I just knew was dreading what was coming. “I’m a scary badass motherfucker,” I told him proudly. Morgan sighed. “Yes, yes. Very much so.” I glanced back at Todd. “I promise I won’t curse you to suffer Black Death or become a rambunctious tea cozy. While you’re stepping on my feet, you can tell me all the stories people tell about me.” Todd said, “Oh no.”

GARY SNUCK me more apple wine while Morgan wasn’t looking. “Just don’t throw up on anyone,” he warned me. “Sometimes I just want to blow raspberries on your stomach to hear you neigh,” I replied. “Please don’t tell anyone else that tonight,” he said. “Not even Captain Bad-Touch?” “Especially not Captain Bad-Touch.” “I’m going to go dance,” I whisper-shouted at him.

“I want you to be happy.” “I am happy.” And I was. Mostly. “Happier,” he said. “I’m the happiest I’ve been.” “Are you?” “Stop. I’ve been drinking. No analyzing. Did you know a man licked my hand because you told him I wanted him to take my flower?” The King tripped but recovered gracefully, as kings are wont to do. “I can assure you that combination of words never came out of my mouth.” He was turning slightly red. “He still licked my hand.” “Who was it?” “Captain Bad-Touch. I don’t know. Scar on his face. Rapey eyes.” “Ah. That would Duke Waller of the Outer Banks. A shame, really. He came so highly recommended.” “I would recommend him for euthanasia,” I said. “And I don’t want to know the criteria you came up with to vet out any less desirables.” “I did nothing of the sort,” the King said. “I just had your stats and the date and time of the ball written on every tavern bathroom wall within a sixty-mile radius. There was no vetting.” “Remember that one time I laughed at a joke you told?” He grinned at me. “I do.” “This is not going to be like that time.” He laughed enough for the both of us.

I found out I really hated dancing with strangers who were trying to get up in my business, so I filled in the silence with vivid descriptions of how we’d have at least ten kids and that I knew a spell that would allow us to get pregnant so we could take turns just popping out the ass babies. I’m pretty sure a couple of them all but ran by the time we’d finished. I waved after them.

I’m trying to be subtle here.” “You’re a talking unicorn,” I said. “Sometimes when you poop, it comes out as rainbows and smells like cookies. There is nothing subtle about you.”

“I love you,” Gary said. “But sometimes I want to kick your spleen in.”

“You have to hand-feed me grapes,” Gary demanded. “Peeled frozen grapes. I will not accept anything less. I am the light of your life and you shall treat me as such.”

As Knight Commander of the King’s Guard, no one is more qualified than you to ensure the safety of his butthole.”

“I fell in love with Ryan, you got jealous, then I fell out of love with him because he seemed needy, you tied me up, I got half a chubby because it reminded me of Octavio, and now you have a date with Ryan. Oops. I mean Todd. Gosh, I’m beat. What a long night. Tiggy, take me to bed or lose me forever. Bye, Sam! Bye! Good night! Bye!”

TWO DAYS AFTER THE WEIRDEST NIGHT in History (and yes, it even beat the night forty years ago when the wizard Carlton the Dark Moth somehow managed to replicate himself sixty-seven times and then proceeded to have a self-orgy out in the town square of Meridian City),

The night sky above was clear and bright, and while the moon was beautiful, yes, I had never been drawn to it. Not like the stars.

I wished because as a child, that’s what you’re supposed to do. You don’t know any better. I wished because as an adult, sometimes you don’t know what else to do. You know better, but you don’t care.

I couldn’t let myself go Dark. Todd was… nice. I liked his ears. His nervousness. But he could never be my cornerstone. No matter how hard I wished it so. I could never twist and shape him into being what I needed. It wouldn’t be fair to him. Or to me. Especially if I ended up hurting him because I lost control.

“Oh my gods,” I groaned. “I am so pathetic.” Fuck that, because that wasn’t who I was. I was awesome. I was epic. I was a badass fucking wizard’s apprentice who would one day change the way people looked at magic. I was going to rescue people from the slums and make their lives better. I was going to open a shop where anyone got to come in and hug puppies for free and leave with a balloon, ice cream, and a compliment. “Here’s your pistachio cream. I made you a balloon animal in the shape of a walrus. You have very nice knuckles.” I was going to finish my Grimoire, and five hundred years from now, people would be studying it and thinking to themselves, Wow. That Sam was pretty neat. I wish I could have been his best friend forever. Because I was Sam of Wilds. Maybe I didn’t look like I was a god. (More like the gods had a sense of humor.) But I could do things that were almost godlike. I could create. I could rejuvenate. I could make something out of nothing because I was godlike— Yikes. “Curb the ego, Sam,” I muttered to myself. But I was something, okay? I was. I’d come from a place where not much hope resided, and whether by accident or design, I’d changed the shape of my future and not just for me. For my mother. For my father. They had given me everything they had, and I was able to give them something back.

I wish I could find that one person made for me so that way I can show them why I was made for them.

“Sam?” I squawked attractively. Okay. That was a lie. There is no way to squawk attractively. It was rather unattractive. Arms flailing, legs kicking. It was just awful. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” Knight Ryan Asshole said, sounding amused. I sat up and glared at him. “I wasn’t scared.” “You screamed like a frightened little girl.” “I squawked like an indifferent tall man.” Because that was a sound and logical argument.

“So you’re not marrying Todd?” he growled, taking another step toward me. “That’s probably a good thing. He was going to kill you with ducks and blueberries.” “I’m not. Trust me on that. I like his ears but really, that only goes so far.” He grimaced. “You and his ears.” “They stuck out. I thought they were adorable.” “If that’s your qualifier for a relationship, then you’re screwed.” “That’s the idea, isn’t it?” I said, trying to grin salaciously. I think I missed the mark and went directly to constipated. He grunted and closed his eyes. “You can’t say stuff like that.” “Why not? Gary says I’m a prude. I don’t think I am. I can talk about stuff like that. It’s not that hard. Or. Well. It could be. Ha! See? I just made a sexual pun, and everyone knows that sex puns are the highest form of humor. Fuck you, Gary! Sex and fucking and balls!” Ryan actually took a step back at that one, which was good because somehow, he’d gotten really close. “Sam,” he hissed. “Hmmm. Maybe you’re the prude. Dicks and fornication.” “Sam!” He

“These are very confusing times,” I said. “No shit,” he muttered. “No cursing,” I scolded him. “You’re a knight. You don’t get to do that. You gave up that right when you swore your oath to the King. You have to lead by example now. So say stuff like ‘fudge toast’ and ‘mothercrackers’ instead of ‘shit whore’ and ‘fuck storm.’” “I can assure you I have never felt the need to say shit whore or fuck storm in my life,” he said. I gaped at him. “But you just did. There are little girls in your fan clubs! They are young and impressionable.” And they could be very mean, I knew from the eight times I’d gone to the meetings. Well, one of them was mean, anyway. She told me that I obviously knew nothing about Ryan Foxheart because his favorite color was burgundy and he one day dreamed of owning a sheep farm. Her name was Tina and she was a bitch, and I hated her stupid face. His favorite color was scarlet, and he wanted to open a bakery. (Really, none of that was true. It was just the sort of things we discussed in the meetings.)

He grinned at me again, and the butterflies in my stomach turned into dragons and laid waste to my innards.

“I just assumed that only little girls would go to those things. Right? Because anyone else would just be weird.” Very weird. Also, I’d been to sixteen meetings and I was thinking of running for fan club treasurer next time. There was already a girl in place named Deidre, but I would destroy her i...

Morgan rolled his eyes. “He’s not that bad.” Like he could read my mind. “Not that bad?” I wheezed. “He’s the one who decides who moves on from apprenticeship by conducting the Trials! He’s the one who can make or break my future. Oh, and there’s the little fact that he hates every fiber of my being.” “He doesn’t hate you, Sam. I’ve told you that a thousand times.” “Uh, pretty sure he does. I don’t blame him, either. You were there the first time I met him. You stood right there when I accidentally turned his nose into a penis. He couldn’t figure out how to reverse it for three days. And he was officiating a wedding the next day. He had to marry a bride and groom with a dick nose! He told me that one day he’d have his revenge. Oh gods. What have I done to you? Do you really hate me that bad? Did I disappoint you so badly that you want to subject me to the absolute worst thing you could possibly think of?” Morgan was trying hard not to laugh, the bastard. “It could have happened to anyone,” he said. “Granted, it happened to you, which is not all that surprising.” “I was fifteen,” I said with a scowl. “Of course I was thinking about dicks. You know what? No. I blame you. Puberty was an awful, awful time, and you made me do magic. This is all your fault.” “Trust me,” he said. “I tell myself that every day.”

“To be fair, it wasn’t the first thing you’d turned into a penis.” “Ugh.” “Like that turkey.” “Shut up.” “Or the King’s wineglass.” “Do you remember the look on his face? I thought he’d literally shit himself.” “Or the—” “I get it,” I snapped. “I had dick on the brain.” “I love our little talks.”

Randall was the oldest wizard in existence, and I swear he was hanging on just so that he could one day have his revenge against me. Morgan said he was at least six hundred years old, that the amount of magic in him kept him from passing through the veil, but I knew otherwise. I was going to get there, he was going to turn me into a giant dick, and then he was going to die, cackling as he did so.

“Because you love me,” I said, sounding smug. “More like you grew on me,” he said. “Like fungus.”

“You know, that ooh-scary-look-at-me voice might work on other people, but I’ve seen you vomit pink goo after that selkie scratched you and you told me you wanted to hug me for days. It doesn’t work on me anymore when you have demanded I snuggle with you.” “I had a fever,” he said. “There were hallucinations!”

if I go, Gary and Tiggy go too.” “Because you’re codependent and can never do anything on your own.” “Rude. You’re just jealous because you’re not invited on the Super Awesome Road-Trip Fun-Time Extravaganza.” He sighed. “You capitalized that, didn’t you?” I smiled because he knew me so well. “When do we leave?”

Morgan said, “Just stay out of trouble. For me. For my sanity. I beg of you.” AND I DID. I TRIED TO stay out of trouble. Too bad trouble found me even before we’d left for the north. Dragons are funny like that.

How is Todd?” “Uh. Fine? He’s fine. He’s good.” Actually, I really had no idea how Todd was because after Morgan had said he was sending me north, I’d sent a missive to Todd explaining how his ears were awesome and I liked his freckles, but that I had to leave for months and that it wasn’t fair to him to wait for someone like me. I told him to find a nice man who could eat blueberries and ducks and maybe when I got back, I could take him out for a drink and we could be friends. He’d responded two days later with a letter of his own. Sam— I figured this was coming the moment the Knight Commander got into the carriage with us. Father will be disappointed, but I understand. Your world is magic and mystery. Mine is hotels and theme nights. Those should probably not mix in any romantic capacity. The results could be disastrous. Safe travels, Todd PS: So when are you going to tell the Knight Commander you’re in love with him? Because, honestly? That was PAINFUL. I had immediately burned the letter because it was all lies and attempted to construct a voodoo doll of Todd. I got stuck on the ears and abandoned the whole project in favor of glaring at the ash remains of the Letter of Evil. I thought about writing again and taking back every nice thing I’d ever said about his ears, realized that was petty and untrue, because his ears were adorable. And truthfully, I felt kind of bad. So, no. I hadn’t heard from Todd. Nor had I expected to.

I WAS COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY FUCKED. I figured as much when Justin got that glint in his eye that meant he was about to be a fucking jerk. Yes, I was not a fan of his (and I was most certainly not a member of his fan club—of which there were inexplicably several—though the two clubs met every other month or so to talk about “Rystin,” their favorite couple, while I would sit in the back seething that combining Ryan and Justin to make Rystin was stupid, but what if Ryan Foxheart had met a guy named Sam Haversford? It’d be HaveHeart! It practically wrote itself. This, by the way, being the twentieth meeting I’d attended). But I liked to think that maybe deep down in the black and murky confines of his soul, Prince Justin was an okay guy. I was wrong.