The Crown of Oaths and Curses (The Mortal Fates #1)

by J. Bree

The Fates have blessed you with a mate. His name is Prince Soren Celestial, heir to the throne of the Southern Lands, and your union will unite a shattered kingdom. The bloodshed that has ravaged the Southern Lands shall end, the lands shall be restored, and the old ways shall be honored once more. The Fates will guide you to him when your heart is ready.

You are not welcome here, Rookesbane Eveningstar. The Ravenswyrd Coven is gone.

My own family was massacred by the same witches. Anyone who didn’t join Kharl’s ranks was considered a traitor to all. My family, the Ravenswyrd Coven, was always neutral, but neutrality in a time of war is seen by both sides as nothing more than an act of aggression.

The Fates have blessed you with a mate. You will find her at Port Asmyr the morning after the summer solstice, nine hundred and eighty-eight years from today. The Fates demand your patience, a virtue of importance for a king to hold, and your steadfast obedience. You cannot defeat your enemies without your mate at your side. With your union, you shall end the war and take your throne.

My croí is already buried deep in my heart, and I’ll prove myself to her, whatever it takes.

Staring back at me, with contempt in her undeniably silver eyes, is my Fates-blessed mate. A witch.

The Fates are cruel and fickle, but I’ve had a long time to come to terms with that.

He might be every bit the gorgeous high fae, but a cold heart beats in his chest, one that has no room for warmth in it toward me.

It's not my fight. It's not my fate to step in now, not before my union to the Savage Prince…but when has that ever stopped me?

“The goblins never stopped speaking to the trees. The Ravenswyrd has missed you for a very long time, and the sorrowful melody it sang for you reached far across the kingdom. I hope you return to the trees again soon, they have mourned your loss.”

All I know now is pain, desperation, and longing, a cavernous void that can never be filled, the damage permanent and devastating. We did this. We ruined it all, we took until there was nothing left to give, we forgot it all…

“Your people will wither and die, all while you're busy pouting about your fate. When you realize your mistake, you’ll have to beg me for my help, and still, I'll refuse to give it, because you're nothing but a useless, arrogant male. The regent might be drinking and dancing his way to ruin, but you're right alongside him, riding a horse with a sword into the very depths of darkness and taking your whole kingdom with you.”

“You missed me.”

Alone and with no regard for her own safety, the witch fights for Yregar.

If I couldn’t have my mother’s mark on me and the ink of my coven on my skin, then no other would do.

All of these females are one and the same, each a facet of the same witch, driven out of the Southern Lands long ago by a war and a fate that terrified a child of the forest who’d known only peace and neutrality. My Fates-blessed mate.

“That doesn't look like begging to me. I'd rather walk until my feet bleed.”

The Outland soldiers all follow and leave me to my witch mate, the cold fury radiating from her, and the calm before the storm.