A Thorn in Every Heart (Enchanted Legacies #1)

Prologue

DAEMON

T here are no locks in Dyaspora prison.

Perched on a bleak, snow-covered island in the middle of an unforgiving ocean, the frigid prison is the only structure for a thousand miles.

There are no locks because there doesn’t fucking need to be. After a few weeks, every man realizes that escape is impossible. Even if someone managed to slip away in the night, there’s no chance of getting off this island. If the monsters that roam the ice planes don’t catch you, the sirens lurking beneath the frigid waters will.

Dyaspora is the dumping ground where the four Fae kingdoms exile their undesirables—criminals, rebels, and, most frequently, the poor and impoverished.

I don’t fit any of those labels, yet I’m trapped here like everyone else, with no hope of ever escaping alive.

“If you could have brought one thing with you to Dyaspora, what would it be?”

I slam my heavy pickaxe against the stone cliff and the shards of rock and debris tumble into the snow. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Beside me, Jett grins and leans against his own pickaxe. “If you knew you were going to be banished here and could bring one thing, what would it be?”

“Release papers,” I growl, lifting my axe again.

Jett’s black eyes glint with humor. “Come on, Ashwater, that’s cheating.”

“Cheating at fucking what?” I snap. “Fine, I’d bring a knife. Happy?”

“Not particularly,” he replies, completely at odds with his cheerful tone. “You’re too practical. Ask me what I’d bring.”

I shoot him a withering look. “You’re going to get whipped for standing around so long without working.”

He ignores me and continues as if I’d played along. “I’d bring a barrel of ale. If I can’t be warm, I may as well be drunk.”

In spite of myself, I chuckle. Jett’s right about that—I’d give almost anything to be drunk right now.

Jett and I are standing in line with our fellow prisoners, our bodies frozen and our feet shackled together by heavy iron chains. Every step, the iron scrapes against my skin, leaving fiery trails of pain—the only hint of warmth in this hellish place.

Eighteen hours a day, we prisoners move as one, raising heavy pickaxes and slam them against the icy cliffs, mining for nothing but exhaustion and broken bones. Every night, the guards cart our sorry asses back to our cells, and that’s when the real torture begins.

Fae might be immortal, but we’re still going to die here—sooner or later.

For me, it will be sooner. In less than a month, I’m going to die.

And some days, I’m completely fine with that.

“Hello?” A voice echoes down the long stone hallway of the prison. “Can anyone hear me?”

I pause at the sound of the shout, then shake my head and turn back to the cards in my hand. “Must be a new guy, making so much noise.”

Across from me, Kastian chuckles. “I pity his cellmate.”

“Don’t pity him too much. Our room is full enough as it is.”

I share my cell with three other men: Jett, who’s constantly smiling despite every reason not to. Fox, who almost never talks but is smarter than the rest of us combined. And my best friend, Kastian, who understands what it’s like to go from living in a palace to mining ice, day after day.

Tonight, the same as every night, the four of us huddle on the cold, hard stone floor gathered around a makeshift table constructed from a battered wooden crate. Between us lies a deck of well-worn playing cards, stolen from a guard decades ago.

I reach across the table to draw two more cards. “I didn’t notice the guards bringing in any new meat.”

To my right, Jett leans back against the wall, hands behind his head. “Happened last night while you and Kas were out stealing our dinner.”

“Where are they from?” Kastian asks quickly, a note of panic in his voice.

“Solistine, same as me,” Jett says, shaking his blue-black hair out of his eyes. “Poor bastards. Most of them have probably never seen snow before.”

Kas relaxes. Every time they bring in new prisoners, his reaction is the same. He’s always worried about running across someone from his past. But aside from me, no one has ever recognized him.

“It won’t matter where they’re from,” Fox mumbles, tossing his cards on the table. “I grew up in Thermia where the snow never melts, but here is different. I didn’t know a cold like this existed.”

We all nod in silent agreement.

The Fae cannot die from cold, but we can still fucking feel it.

“Can anyone hear me?” The silence is broken by another shout.

“Yeah!” another voice yells back. “Shut the fuck up!”

There’s a long beat before the first man raises his voice again. “Can anyone help me? I’m looking for Daemon Ashwater!”

Jett tosses his cards on the table. “Interesting. It sounds like you’ve got a customer, Ashwater.”

“I hear him.” I don’t take my eyes off my cards. “He’ll figure out soon enough that there are no locks on the doors. No need to waste my time searching for him.”

It only takes thirty minutes before my prophecy proves correct. A feeble-looking man with a hunched posture arrives at our door, peering inside. “H-hello?”

I look up, assessing him. His hands shake, and mud splatters his ragged gray cloak. He must have arrived like that, since he hasn’t been here nearly long enough for his clothes to be stolen or destroyed. That doesn’t bode well for his survival.

“I’m l-looking for Daemon Ashwater,” he stammers. “Is he here?”

I turn back to my cards. “Who wants to know?”

“M-me, I’m—” The man’s voice quavers again, then he falls into a fit of coughing.

I roll my eyes. “For fuck’s sake. Jett, give him something to eat. If he dies on our doorstep, his body becomes our problem.”

“Right-o,” Jett says, grinning as he jumps up.

“You have f-food?” the beggar stammers.

“Yeah. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“N-no, but I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“It’s more for us than for you,” I growl. “If you die here, the guards will make it our problem. I don’t feel like spending all night digging your grave.”

The man blinks, unsure if I’m joking. I’m not.

There aren’t many deterrents for violence in this place, but the guards keep a loose handle on fighting by forcing any offender to dig their victim’s grave all night. Usually, by morning, the graves are unnecessary since both the digger and the body will have been eaten by beasts.

Jett hands the man a loaf of bread and some dried meat from our pile of stolen food and supplies. The beggar’s eyes widen, and he accepts the food quickly, shoving them into the pocket of his cloak.

I expect him to leave, but he doesn’t. “You? You’re Daemon Ashwater?”

“Just ‘Ashwater,’” I correct him. “And there’s no need to be so shocked.”

“I thought you’d be older, that’s all.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I feel as if I am growing old as we speak. Now, what do you want?”

The man pushes his damp, graying hair out of his eyes. “I heard about you from my neighbor before I…before I came here. She said if anyone could get me off this island, it’s you.”

I scoff. “If I knew how to escape, do you think I’d be sitting here now?”

“Well…I don’t know. But please…I’m i-innocent. At least, I didn’t mean to do anything. See, it was daylight?—”

I look up, intrigued. “Are you from Vernallis?”

He nods, and I scowl. Unfortunately, I understand all too well what must have happened. The curse on the Kingdom of Vernallis robs its victims of control over their own bodies whenever the sun is out. I don’t even want to know what this old man did under the effects of the curse to be sentenced to Dyaspora. I’ve seen enough of the destruction caused by the curse to guess, and it’s not pretty.

“There’s only an hour or two of sunlight each day here,” I say bitterly. “If you can sleep through it, it’s almost like not being cursed at all…at least, until the end of the month.”

He blinks, startled, then swallows thickly. “Thank you…but I can’t stay here. I need to return to my family. We only have a few weeks left together.”

Kastian turns to the man and smiles, almost empathetically. “Every man here claims he’s innocent, and we all have families. You’ll learn quickly that no one escapes Dyaspora. Make some friends and try your best to live through the night.”

“But I heard you could break into anywhere,” the man reasons desperately. “You used to sneak over the border into the human realm. You helped my neighbor’s daughter escape her husband.”

I have no idea who his neighbor is or what daughter he’s talking about, but I don’t doubt the story. Once, I helped hundreds of people cross into the human realm but not anymore. “That was a long time ago. If you’re looking to buy food or steal something from the guards, come back. Otherwise, I can’t help you.”

“But—” he begins to protest, but his feeble voice is cut off by the sound of commotion in the hall.

“Out of the way!” a guard yells. “Get back! Do not approach the king.”

“What the fuck,” Kastian says, jumping to his feet. “Did he say ‘king?’”

I’m on my feet too, flanked by Kastian, Jett, and Fox.

The feeble beggar scrambles further into the room, flattening himself against the wall in panic. Of course, I forget his presence—all my attention focused on the door and the sound of boots in the hall.

A voice I recognize as the head of the guards echoes over the commotion. “He’s in the cell at the end, my lord.”

“Good,” a high, cold voice replies. “You may leave us.”

“But, my lord...”

“Go!”

I breathe heavily as if I’m back at the cliff swinging my axe. I know that voice, and I never thought I’d have the misfortune to hear it again. Part of me wants to run, while another part is frothing at the mouth for the possibility of a fight. Of revenge.

A looming shadow turns the corner, and King Thorne of Vernallis steps inside the cell. He carries a leather satchel and wears a tailored blue-and-gold waistcoat that’s absurdly clean and looks out of place in this shithole prison. Shaking snow from his blond curls, he smirks at me.

“Hello, brother. I would say it’s good to see you, but I’d hate to lie.”

My jaw tightens, I ball my hands into fists as I meet my half-brother’s challenging gaze.

He’s exactly the same height and muscular build as me, but our similarities end there. Thorne looks like his mother, with blond curly hair and pale blue eyes. My darker hair and green eyes are identical to our shared father—which is the entire reason I’ve spent more than half my life imprisoned in the frozen asshole of the universe.

“What are you doing here?” I demand.

Before Thorne can answer, a rustling in the corner interrupts us. We turn to look at the beggar, still plastered against the wall. His mouth hangs open for a long moment, before he remembers himself and falls onto the floor, performing a comically low bow at Thorne’s feet. “Your Majesty!”

Thorne doesn’t even spare him a glance. He strolls into the room, stepping over him as if he’s garbage.

“What are you doing here?” I ask again. “Come to gloat one more time before the end of the month?”

“I wanted to speak with you,” Thorne says, a hint of cruel humor in his voice. “I’d ask you to come to me at court, but given the circumstances…”

My nails bite into the flesh of my palms so hard I’m sure I’ve broken skin. “Why would you want to speak with me? I thought we’d settled all there was to say ninety years ago when you banished me here.”

I know Thorne well enough to see the rage simmering beneath his easy smile. The only question is: is he angry with me? Or angry that he’s had to come here and seek me out?

I get my answer immediately.

“I’ve come to ask for your help,” he bites out.

“ You want my help?” I laugh harshly. “With what?”

He looks toward my friends. For a moment, I’m afraid he’ll recognize Kastian, but he doesn’t because he only says, “Perhaps we could speak in private.”

“Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of my men.”

“Oh?” Thorne’s eyes glint with amusement. “Have you been building an army? How quaint.”

I ignore him, but don’t retract my statement. I won’t let him separate me from my friends.

Thorne tosses the leather satchel at me and I catch it instinctively. I pull out a pair of denim trousers, and it takes me a second to recognize them. “These are mine. Where did you get them?”

“I thought you might need them. I want you to cross the border to the human realm and fetch someone for me, brother.”

I let out another bark of incredulous laughter and shove the jeans back into the satchel before dropping it on the floor. “Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because if you do, I’ll lift your banishment.”

A startled silence lingers in the room. I can’t fucking believe it. No one leaves Dyaspora. Ever. Not even kings. Why would he offer this?

Thorne doesn’t want me back at court or he never would have banished me in the first place. He doesn’t need me to cross into the human realm, either. The gates require a lot of magic, but he’s more than powerful enough to use them himself. And if he refused to go, there are plenty of others he could have asked before coming to me.

I straighten my shoulders. “That’s a very generous offer. But I know you have never been generous a day in your life. What’s the catch?”

“No catch. If I could cross myself, I would, but I cannot leave the kingdom unsupervised for more than a day.”

I snort a humorless laugh. He’s right about that much; the cursed Kingdom of Vernallis can spiral out of control in the blink of an eye. At least, that was true ninety years ago when I left.

“I need someone I can trust to go in my place,” Thorne finishes.

“And you think you can trust me ?”

“I don’t trust anyone, but if I can’t have trust, control will do. With you, I can offer an incentive no one can.” He gestures around the room. “No one has ever escaped Dyaspora in the history of Ellender. You could be the first.”

An ache shoots through my chest, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my eyes from betraying my desire. Returning to my former life would mean everything to me. Still, I say, “No.”

Jett sucks in a sharp breath while Fox stiffens beside me. Kastian, however, doesn’t move. Perhaps he understands better than the other two what I’m thinking. Or perhaps he simply wants to avoid Thorne’s notice.

Thorne’s face twists in a mixture of confusion and anger. “What did you say?”

I turn away from him and bend as if to return to playing cards. “No. I’ll stay here. Thanks for the offer.”

“I don’t think you’re considering this,” Thorne says, albeit urgently. “You can finally return home without the shame of banishment hanging over you. I’ll restore your title and your lands. I can even make you the captain of my guard, if that’s what you want.”

“It’s not enough. I’d rather stay here than return to your cursed court. At least in Dyaspora, there’s so little daylight I hardly have to worry about?—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Thorne cuts me off with a growl.

I grin, pleased at getting under his famously thin skin. “Whatever you say, Your Highness.”

He takes a step closer until we’re practically nose to nose. “If freedom isn’t enough, then what do you want?”

Ninety years ago, I would have jumped at any opportunity to return to the court. Even twenty years ago, it might have been tempting, but now I have my friends—my true brothers—to think about. I cannot abandon them when they never once abandoned me in Dyaspora. “Free all of us,” I demand. “Either my friends come with me, or you can shove your offer up your ass. I don’t want it.”

Kastian lets out a choked sound. He didn’t know what I was planning, and maybe returning to Thorne’s kingdom won’t be safe for him. But there’s no time to discuss it now.

“Fine,” Thorne agrees, almost too quickly, then glances at my friends. “They’d make decent enough guards, I suppose, but I don’t know what you expect me to do with the old one.”

I furrow my brow in confusion, before my eyes fly to the feeble man on the floor in the corner. I’d completely forgotten he was there. I don’t even know his name. But when he looks up at me, I can’t bring myself to say he’s not part of the deal. No matter how much I’ve tried, I’m not as cruel as the rest of my family.

“He can work in the stables,” I say. “Or the kitchen. You have thousands of servants. I’m sure you can take one more.”

“Fine.”

I blink in shock. Is this really happening? It seems too easy. No, it is too easy. Something is wrong here. “Who do you want me to find?”

He sucks in a deep breath. “The woman who will put an end to the curse on my kingdom.”

Another long silence stretches between us as disappointment settles in my chest.

I knew there would be a catch. For a moment, I let myself believe I could return to court with my friends at my side. But now, the truth settles in—it was never going to happen. “That’s impossible. It’s been–”

“Over ninety-nine years,” Thorne finishes for me, a note of bitterness creeping over his tone. “The rose moon is coming. According to the astronomers, it’s only a month away. It marks one hundred years since the curse was cast. If it rises, our curse will become permanent.”

“The curse you brought on all of us, you mean,” I hiss. “It’s your fault that the kingdom is in this mess, and your fault that time is running out when you’ve had decades to find someone to end our suffering.”

“Which is why I need your help,” he insists, huffing. “If you will not do it for me, do it for every person in Vernallis.”

I shake my head. “Even if I thought you deserved my help after everything you’ve done, it’s impossible. If no one has found our savior in ninety-nine years, why do you think I will in less than a month?”

“Because I already know who she is.”

I recoil, shocked. “If you already know, why would you wait so long?”

Thorne sighs again, sounding weary. “I know because she’s been here before. She found her way into Ellender sixty years ago. Her name is Isabelle.”

“What happened to her? If she was the one who could break the curse, why the fuck would you allow her to leave?”

Thorne scowls and steps back abruptly. “I don’t need to explain myself to you,” he growls. “I have attempted to incentivize you with gifts, but I am happy to turn to threats instead.”

“Threats of what?” I scoff. “You’ve already sent me here. That’s the worst punishment at your disposal. And in a month, it won’t matter, anyway. You won’t have the ability to speak your own name, let alone punish anyone.”

“True, but a month is more than enough time to make sure you never forget how wrong you were to disobey me. Your mother is still living on the Ashwater Estate, and that servant you call a sister is at court. I could send them here to see you.”

I bare my teeth, losing my composure for a moment. Women are rarely sent to Dyaspora, but when they are, it’s far kinder to kill them upon arrival. My mother wouldn’t last a day, and Odessa…I don’t even want to fucking think about what would happen to her or what I’d have to do to protect her.

“You wouldn’t,” I hiss.

Thorne smirks. “You’re correct. I won’t, as long as you find my bride for me.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to find your missing bride?” I grind out. “And how would I recognize her if I did?”

Thorne appears unfazed, as if he anticipated this argument. “Sixty years ago, Isabelle came through the mountain gate. She lived nearby to the entrance in a town called Ironhill. I remember it, because the name was amusing. Ironhill —like the humans hoped to scare us away from their home.”

Only Thorne would find it amusing that a town would be so afraid of him they might name themselves after the one thing that resists faerie magic.

“Wait a minute,” Jett blurts out behind me. “I don’t understand.”

“What don’t you understand?” I grit out, turning slowly to look at him.

Please shut the fuck up. Don’t say anything that will get you killed.

Jett, seeming to realize he shouldn’t have spoken, runs a hand through his pitch-black hair. “It’s only that, if this was sixty years ago, wouldn’t your woman be an old granny by now? Humans age much faster than we do.”

That’s actually a good point.

Turning back to Thorne, I raise an eyebrow. “Shockingly, he’s right. Do you really want me to drag some poor old lady back here?”

Thorne’s expression darkens. “Before Isabelle left, I intended her to be my bride. Obviously, I couldn’t allow her to wither with age, so I gave her an enchanted necklace. As long as she wore it, she would remain just as young as she was on the day I met her.”

“And you’re sure she’s still wearing it?” I raise a skeptical brow. “It’s been sixty years. That’s nearly a lifetime for a human.”

Thorne shrugs as if he doesn’t care, but his eyes betray him.

He does care about this; he cares entirely too much.

“I can only hope so,” he says, “because that’s how you’ll recognize her. The necklace is gold with a red stone and my coat of arms on the back. A mirror lies inside. It will show you a glimpse of Ellender. That’s how you’ll know you’ve found the right woman.”

He turns and strides toward the door, pausing on the threshold as if he expects us to follow him.

I stay frozen for one moment longer, my mind racing. “What if she doesn’t want to return to Ellender? Or what if she hasn’t worn the necklace and has grown old? What will you do if I find her but can’t return her to you?”

Thorne, already halfway out the door, doesn’t even bother to look at me when he replies, “That’s your problem to solve. Remember, the future of the kingdom depends on this. Succeed and you’ll have everything you ever wanted, restored. Fail, and I will make sure the last thing I ever do is sentence your friends and family to a lifetime of suffering.”