Queen of the Undying (Wings and Whispers Book 2), page 1
Contents
Copyrights
Author's Note
Content Warning
Guide
Dedication
1. Homecoming Queen
2. Who You Gonna Call? The Men In White Coats, That’s Who
3. All That Work And What Did It Get Me?
4. No, I Haven’t Had Any Work Done
5. Let Me Stay Forever
6. What Do You Mean, I’m A Grown Up?
7. Trauma Time
8. I Guess We’ll Just Be Enemies, Then
9. Welcome to Hell
10. Sorry, I Don’t Speak Parseltongue
11. Smiling Isn’t So Difficult
12. Leather Should Be Illegal
13. My Head Is In The Gutter
14. After All This Time
15. Haters Gonna Hate
16. I Fell Off The Wagon
17. I Was Never Into Religion, Anyway
18. So… Small Problem
19. And The Oscar Goes to...
20. Let The Show Begin
21. I Can’t Hear Myself Think Over All This Applause
22. There’s More Than One Way To Soar
23. It’s Payback Time
24. Free will? Fate? I Don’t Fucking Know, My Brain Is Slush
25. This Is The Worst
26. I’m A Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here
27. The Math Isn’t Mathing
28. Mister Who?
29. Third Time’s A Charm
30. So, Like, What Are We?
31. Why Won’t He Be The King I Know He Is?
32. It Was Arson, Your Honour
33. When You Lie On Your Resume
34. A Tale As Old As Time
35. Who Am I Fighting For?
36. Mums Think They Know Everything
37. That Wasn’t Part Of The Plan
38. This Stings
39. Kidnapped, Again
40. Is This… Girls Night?
41. Pyromaniacs Anonymous
42. Well, Friends Are In Short Supply
43. Sibling Rivalry Is Healthy, Isn’t It?
44. Another One Bites The Dust
45. It Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time
46. I Know How To Do Politics, Okay?
47. Maybe He’s Born With It
48. A Cat Among The Fairies
49. Now, Now, Children…
50. Cherry Blossom Perverts
51. Is One Day Too Much To Ask?
52. Well, That’s New
53. Five Is A Lucky Number, Right?
54. It’s Always The Quiet Ones
55. Who Invited The Vampire?
56. Let's Get This Ambush Over With, Shall We?
57. Home At Last
58. I’ve got Skills, They’re Multiplying
59. I Hate Surprise Parties
60. He Did What?
61. I May Have Miscalculated
62. Damage Mitigation
63. Happily Never After
Thank you for Reading
Acknowledgments
About The Author
Copyright © 2024 by Aimee Clinton
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by copyright law. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Aimee Clinton asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
First edition
ISBN: 978-1-7391432-3-7
Author's Note
For my readers who live beyond the shores of my little kingdom, please be aware that this, and all my other books, are written in British English. Therefore, you will find an abundance of U, L and S in the most unexpected of places.
While the advice writing world is to please the masses by adopting American English, I just can't. I was the kid who studied for her spelling tests like her life depended on it, so even if I tried, the Brit in me would still slip through the net, and then nobody would be happy. This is the hill I've chosen, so please, just let me die on it.
Content Warning
This book contains on page explicit scenes, graphic injury detail, mention of suicide (attempted, historical), infertility (historical) and child loss (historical).
Guide
Kingdoms of Neath
Tir o Gaeaf - Winter, the last free fae territory
Tir o Haf - Summer, the capital, Maelgwyn’s stronghold and Anwir & Idris’ former home
Berl - Capital city of Neath, located in Tir o Haf
Tir o Hydref - Autumn
Tir o Gwanwyn - Spring
Ymyl Cefnfor - Witch Kingdom
Fjallar - Vampire Kingdom, accessed through the Blood Gate
Castles, Palaces & Residences
Nairsgarth - Ymyl Cefnfor, home to the coven
Serensedd Palace - Tir o Haf, official royal residence
Rhewlif Palace - Tir o Gaeaf, stewarded by Lady Celyn
Henangof - Tir o Haf, an old castle
Ceirios Manor - Tir o Gwanwyn, former holiday/vacation residence of the royal family
Pronunciation
Idris - Id (like lid) -ris
Anwir - An-waa
Maelgwyn - Mihl-gwihn
Taryn - Tair-in
Celyn - Kehl-in
Mabli - Mab-lee
Dilys - Dill-is
Bryn - B-rin
Orddaer - Or-day-er
Tir o Gwanwyn - Ti-r oh Gwae-nwin
Tir o Haf - Ti-r oh Hav
Tir o Hydref - Ti-r oh Hu-drev
Tir o Gaeaf - Ti-r oh Guy-av
Ymyl Cefnfor - Um-il Kevn-vor
Neath - exactly like the neath in underneath
Rhodd Anfarwol - hR-or-th An-var-wol
Berl - like Pearl, but roll the R
Ceirios - Khee-ree-os
Rhewlif - Hrh-ew-leev
Henangof - Hen-ang-ov
Fjallar - Fyah-lar
For my dear ARC readers
Thank you for your love and support
and for my relatives who loyally read every book,
this book is the spiciest yet. You have been warned
1
Homecoming Queen
Aliza
Home .
Three weeks had passed since I’d embarked on the camping trip from hell. Twenty-two days, fourteen hours and a handful of minutes. More than once in that time, I’d given up hope of ever making it home.
I hesitated in the shadows between the streetlights, staring at the little house on the other side of the road. This wasn’t an affluent area by any means. The building itself was a perfectly standard, semi-detached two-storey of reddish-orange brick, but it stood out from the rest of the street because of the tangle of climbing roses clinging to its otherwise boring facade.
My dad had always loved his garden. It was his pride and joy, yet the usually pristine hedges lining the little wall were overgrown. Beyond their fluffy outline, a faint, welcoming glow seeped through the closed living room curtains. I didn’t need to see beyond the glass to know that a desperate dad sat in his favourite armchair, watching the ten o’clock news for a sighting of his missing daughter, as though the police wouldn’t have made him the first to know. As though I wasn’t dithering outside the door.
“Are you alright?”
The whisper had me pasting a smile across my face as I tore my gaze from my home to the dark-haired prince at my side. “Yeah. Fine.”
Even with a glamour disguising his fae features, Idris was too handsome to be seen dead in a place like this. As for me, I didn’t look like myself at all. As though restoring my precious rainbow of hair to its boring, natural shade of dark blonde wasn’t bad enough, Idris had glamoured my face. While it was weird to see a complete stranger peering back from my phone screen, it was probably wise to avoid being recognised and bringing weeks of media and police attention down on me. What was I supposed to say?
Yes, officer. It’s me. I’ve spent the last few weeks cavorting with witches and fairies, breaking curses, and attending royal balls.
That would earn me a one-way ticket to a padded cell, and now that I was no longer human, I couldn’t risk an extended stay in the non-magical world without poisoning myself. Every day, every hour, would sap my strength, and Idris’ power, but a little thing like certain death wasn’t going to keep me from letting my parents know I wasn’t rotting in a ditch somewhere. Not when I’d been gifted a second chance.
“How’s my face?” I asked.
Idris’ face, still his own, if a little less glowing than usual, softened as his pale green eyes darted over my new features. “Unrecognisable.”
“You don’t need to sound so happy about it.”
He smirked. “If only I could change your terrible personality too.”
“Many have tried,” I quipped, but without any real humour.
My gaze drifted back across the street. My shabby, beaten-up little car sat dark and unmoving at the far side of the road. The last time I’d seen it, it had been parked i
“You’re sure you’re alright?”
“I’m okay, Idris.” I glanced up and down the quiet street. There was nothing to see but parked cars clogging up the kerbs, and a pair of glowing cat eyes lurking beneath one. “Keep the glamour up until we’re inside, just in case.”
I’d gone over the plan dozens of times on our journey here, but Idris had been nothing but patient, letting me witter on without complaint whenever my nerves got the better of me, which had been most of the time.
“I will.” When his finger brushed against mine, I almost flinched. Not in a bad way, far from it, but it was taking me time to adjust to my new, immortal body and all the sensations that came with it. Idris, with his lightning powers, sent sparks shimmering over me whenever our skin touched, even here in the human world, where magic was weakened.
Even so, I laced my fingers with his, squeezing tight and trying to ignore the tingles shooting down my spine. Whatever lies I told about being fine, I needed him. The idea of coming home had been exciting, but now, my nerves were frazzled and my heart didn’t seem to know how to beat properly anymore. I was pretty sure I was having palpitations, but now wasn’t the time to deal with a medical emergency, so I was just going to have to get a grip of myself before I passed out. The only way I could do that was by cutting off Idris’ blood supply to his fingers.
The prince squeezed back gently. With a deep breath, I edged my way between two cars parked nose to tail, and crossed the street I’d played on as a little girl. With no brothers or sisters to fight with, Mum had always encouraged friendships with the neighbour’s kids. Most had moved on now we were all grown up, but I still saw them from time to time. Thankfully, all I saw tonight were memories.
The security light flared to life as the metal garden gate opened silently, admitting us to the narrow path squashed between a lawn of overgrown grass, and a flower bed full of weeds. I frowned at that. It was one thing to let the hedges grow a little wild, but weeds? Dad hadn’t spent all this time moping, had he?
Worry gnawed at my gut, but everything was going to be okay. I was home, if only for a day or two. I had quite a story to tell, but whether my parents believed me or not, at least they’d know I was alive. That was all that mattered.
My hand trembled as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my keys. Idris had retrieved my meagre belongings from the castle, the day he’d rescued me and turned me fae. Everything had been accounted for, apart from the clothes I’d been wearing when Idris' uncle, Maelgwyn, set me alight, and the diamond tiara I'd intended to give to Mum and Dad. My captors had obviously made off with my hoard. As galling as it was to return home without the riches I’d pilfered, at least I’d made it here. It had been touch and go for a while.
As quietly as I could, I slotted the key into the lock and turned.
I’d forgotten what home smelt like. A comforting waft rushed up my nose, scented with the fragrance of roses carried in on the night breeze, and Mum’s favourite pomegranate candles mingling with something cheesy inside. We’d missed dinner by hours, but my stomach grumbled at the lingering smell of food in the air. Mac and Cheese. How had I missed that?
Sure enough, the dreary tones of the news drifted from the room to my left. I turned to Idris as he closed the front door with a soft click, and instantly, with the sensation of cool water trickling over my face, the glamour lifted. Idris’ remained in place. My return would be shocking enough without a pointy eared, exquisite prince lurking at my shoulder. Speaking of pointy ears… I touched a hand to my own. The glamour still clung to them, making them appear rounded, just like they’d been during my mortal life. In the darkness of the hall, Idris was nothing but a shadowy silhouette with faintly gleaming eyes, though my remade eyes adjusted quickly, and his silver features came into view. He gave me a knowing smirk.
“Human,” he breathed, his voice barely discernible, even to me.
The word set my stomach fluttering. To him, I’d always been human, or mortal, or some other word that wasn’t my given name, uttered with distaste. He meant it differently tonight, but even after everything he’d done for me, everything we’d shared, I still found it hard to believe that he didn’t despise me, as he had done in the beginning. Hard to believe that he was here, helping me. That he’d saved me. That, because of him, I wasn’t human at all.
Gulping, I reached for the doorknob, and stepped into the living room.
2
Who You Gonna Call? The Men In White Coats, That’s Who
Aliza
There was a second, after stepping into the room, and before anyone noticed me, that time stood still.
I don’t know what I’d expected, but nothing had changed in my absence. How was I entirely changed–both physically and emotionally–but my lifelong home remained exactly as it had always been? There was the same reclining black leather sofa and armchair, draped in throws and buried under mounds of cushions. The same oversized cream rug. Same pictures, framed on the walls. Even the fiddle leaf fig was still alive, sprouting a few large leaves at the top of its bald, nobbly stem. The only difference was the hundreds of condolence cards crammed on every surface. The mantlepiece, the shelving unit, even hung on string draped between the twin wall lights. My attention caught on them.
I was dead.
As far as anyone knew, I was dead and never coming back.
“Aliza?”
I whipped my head around.
A man much older and thinner than the dad I remembered stared up, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, from the armchair, the TV remote dangling limply from one hand. His formerly plump face was gaunt, the skin grey and sagging, but there was no mistaking his blue eyes. Eyes that I’d inherited.
“Dad.” I half smiled, half sobbed. I didn’t know what to do with my body. My newly forged limbs trembled under my own weight.
Dad staggered to his feet, staring as though he’d seen a ghost. Maybe he had.
Mum appeared in the archway that led through to the dining room and kitchen. She wore her fluffy leopard print dressing gown and clutched a mug of tea in each hand, but she jerked to a halt as her eyes found me. Both mugs clattered to the floor, spilling their contents over the rug.
“Hi, Mum.”
Before I could say anything more, she hurtled across the room, thumping into me and crushing me into a quaking hug as sobs wrenched through her body. My eyes flooded as I folded my arms around her. She smelled exactly as I remembered. Honey shampoo and her favourite, musky perfume, now faint after her evening shower.
Another pair of arms wrapped around the two of us, and I squinted through my tears to find Dad had joined the fray. Adjusting my arm, I made room for him, though he certainly took up a lot less space than I remembered.
I’d done it. From the moment I’d arrived in Neath, my driving goal had been to make it back here, to this place and these people. To this life. I’d finally made it, but not in the way I’d imagined. I couldn’t stay.
“I’m sorry,” I whimpered between sobs. “I tried to come home sooner.”
Neither seemed to be in any state to answer me. I let them cry. I let them cling to me. I couldn’t imagine what it had been like for them to lose their only child in such a way. To have no answers. To lie awake imagining the very worst of things happening to me. They didn’t know the half of it. If not for Idris…
I stretched my neck, peeping over my dad’s bowed head. Idris lingered in the hall, watching from the doorway with a strange, haunted expression. He gave me a whisper of a smile.
It was thanks to him that I was here at all. Without him, I’d have died a hundred times over. I returned his smile. I had forever stretching ahead of me, and yet I knew it wouldn’t be enough time to repay him, to show him the depths of my gratitude. I might only be able to stay in the human world for a few days, but it was only one of the gifts he’d given me, each beyond imagining. I had a feeling that, even now, watching this scene unfold, he couldn’t possibly know what it meant to me. Or maybe he did.
