Yew Queen Trilogy Read online

  Foreword

  Hello Readers!

  Thanks for picking up this complete trilogy. It’s so exciting to see how many people are enjoying this crazy ride with me. :) Hey, at the very end of this trilogy I included an extra scene from Kaippa’s point of view so don’t miss that. I also put the first chapter of the next book at the end. Make sure you check it out and let me know what you think!

  Love,

  Eve

  Contents

  Fae Curse

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Fae World

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Epilogue

  Fae Spell

  Foreword

  1. Coren

  2. Coren

  3. Hekla

  4. Coren

  5. Coren

  6. Coren

  7. Hekla

  8. Coren

  9. Coren

  10. Coren

  11. Hekla

  12. Coren

  13. Coren

  14. Coren

  15. Hekla

  16. Coren

  17. Coren

  18. Coren

  19. Coren

  20. Hekla

  21. Coren

  22. Coren

  23. Coren

  24. Coren

  25. Coren

  26. Coren

  27. Coren

  28. Coren

  29. Hekla

  30. Coren

  31. Coren

  32. Hekla

  33. Coren

  About the Author

  Also by Eve A. Hunt/Alisha Klapheke

  Kaippa Receives a Letter…

  Fae Curse

  Yew Queen Book One

  Copyright © 2020 by Eve A. Hunt

  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.

  Created with Vellum

  To Melissa, Miranda, Kelly, Tina, and my Crew

  Chapter 1

  With my motorcycle helmet under my arm, I shoved a chocolate croissant into my mouth, then grabbed the day’s take from the register. Running a small business was full of ups and downs. When we had a slow day—a down day—we didn’t make much money. But the upside was we got to keep more deliciousness for ourselves.

  My best friend, Hekla, came out of the kitchen, hands on her narrow hips and a patch of flour over one of her eyes. “Stop looking so happy that the weather kept everyone away, Coren.”

  My dirty blonde hair slipped out of its messy bun, but I let it go, pulling the elastic band around my wrist. “It hasn’t even stormed yet. Bunch of pansies. Oh, well,” I mumbled around a mouthful of a second croissant. They were tiny, like half the size of most croissants, so eating two was really like eating one.

  Hekla attempted to pry a third one from my fingers, her dimples sneaking out to tell me she wasn’t actually ticked off. “We could sell those at half price tomorrow.” She scolded me by waving what we lovingly called her Frankenfinger. Her pointer digit hadn’t set right after breaking during one of our many skydiving adventures.

  My grip on the chocolatey goodness was solid, but she wouldn’t let go. I leaned forward and, avoiding her fingers, snagged another bite between my teeth. “I worked out three times this week! I need sustenance!”

  Hekla released the half-eaten croissant and sighed heavily. “Fine. Do as you like, my friend. You’re the one who has to pay the lease.” She walked to the front window, then flipped the sign from Open to Closed. “I’m leaving before this sky turns from threat to promise. Hey, are we going out for your birthday next weekend or what?”

  “Pizza and beer. That’s it. We save the big hurrah for next year when I’m officially over the hill.”

  “Thirty isn’t over the hill, dummy. That’s forty.”

  “Whatever. Twenty-nine already feels very mountainous.”

  Thunder shook the floor and rattled the display case that held my TV baking show trophy. A flash of oddly lavender-colored lightning washed through the room, highlighting the painted letters of our store’s name, Sweet Touch, on the window. Hekla and I looked at one another with wide eyes.

  I grabbed the two sets of keys from the nail beside the register, then tossed Hekla the ones to her Volvo. “Wow. Maybe the pansy customers were right and we should’ve left earlier.”

  “Was that lightning purple?” Hekla frowned.

  A chill slipped down my spine, but I shook it off. “Yeah. Weird.”

  The kitchen wasn’t as tidy as we liked to leave it, but it would have to do if we were going to beat the storm.

  “See you at sunrise!” Hekla said as she hurried out the back door. She lived in one of the new apartments on the north end of Franklin, closer to the road leading into Nashville. I was a little farther out, and it’d take me a minute or two longer to get home.

  “I’m right behind you…”

  A blinking red light stopped me before I hit the door. The refrigerator we used to chill the puff pastry and butter between folds was on the fritz again.

  “Dammit.”

  Tossing my helmet, money, and keys next to the big mixer, I got down to work.

  After cleaning the condenser coils, I realized it was just the door’s seal going bad. The fridge was overworking itself.

  “I understand, fridge! You need some me time.” I patted its side, then grabbed my stuff to leave.

  Outside, the October clouds swirled into shapes that looked like moving mouths and fisting hands. Thunder drummed, and more bizarre amethyst lightning split the sky. A metallic taste touched my tongue as I started my vintage Indian motorcycle. I sped onto the empty side streets, heading for home as the rain began. Wind pushed my bike, and I gripped the handlebars, forcing my beautiful beast to stay in the lane. Lightning nearly blinded me as I hurried down 4th, zipping past the cemetery filled with Revolutionary War and Civil War heroes, then going toward Hillsboro Road.

  At the stoplight, thunder boomed, and I turned my head to see a five-pronged lightning strike illuminate a massive hill and…

  I squinted. No. It
couldn’t be.

  The sky went dark again, and the light turned green. I drove off, wondering if I had lost my mind because I could’ve sworn that instead of a bunch of trees overlooking the Harpeth River, the CVS, and a bunch of businesses and houses, I’d seen a huge hill and a castle.

  Chapter 2

  I woke up at my usual 5 a.m. the next morning, untangled my hair from my earbuds as my toast popped, then threw some healthy avocado on top of the sourdough. Hekla’s continuous warnings about my obsession with all things bread had finally had its intended effect—I was actually considering my health for a second.

  That storm had been super bizarre. A castle? I laughed aloud at myself. No way. I shook my head. I’d been tired last night, and the lightning had made my eyes do something weird.

  I’d passed out after a fat, healthy serving of wine and The Great British Baking Show reruns. Still…

  “Might be time for a vacation,” I mumbled.

  As I rode down my street and out of my neighborhood, I had to dodge a pickup truck full of pumpkins and a bevy of neon-clothed cyclists. I crossed Hillsboro and glanced to my left.

  There it was.

  The castle.

  No way. I squeezed my brakes and almost ate the end of a bright blue Tesla.

  There on a new hill above town was a castle.

  A legit castle. Like, Renaissance style.

  Now, if some country music star got a wild hair and decided to undertake the reproduction of a ginormous fifteenth-whatever century mansion for a recording studio, that would not be a shock. But I would’ve seen that construction in progress.

  I would’ve been there, day after day, waving inappropriate gestures at the traffic it created—a typical Coren Connelly move.

  But this thing had simply appeared.

  As traffic moved on, I slid into a spot beside the cemetery, my black boots splashing in the remains of last night’s storm. Hanging my helmet on the handlebars, I paused, feeling…off.

  A sensation like feathers brushing my skin rushed up my legs, sliding over my thighs.

  What the hell?

  I mean, it wasn’t unpleasant. Quite the opposite. But what was it? I hadn’t had a date in a few months, but the appearance of a castle, as cool as it was, wouldn’t get me all hot and bothered.

  The feeling intensified as I stood there, staring up at the completely out-of-nowhere hill on which said castle stood. Delicious heat—like summer sunshine—spread across my stomach, then up and over my breasts. A coolness like soft raindrops followed the heat, pebbling my skin as it worked its way to my neck. A chill breeze that smelled like pines and spring leaves danced through the air, which was odd considering it was nearly Halloween.

  The castle was too massive to see properly from down here, but the structure really did look Renaissance-ish. I’d watched The Borgias, so I was practically an expert. On one of the castle’s towers, painted images of ivy and ruby-colored flowers wove together to create the face of a clock.

  I crossed the street and began to trek up the hill because I was—as my mother used to say when she was alive—exactingly nosey. And why was I the only person checking this castle out? Morning traffic rolled by like nothing was out of the ordinary.

  A huge archway made up what I assumed was the castle’s front entrance. The dark fangs of a metal gate peeked from the top, a portcullis that, when lowered, would guard a set of tall wooden doors. Above the archway, gray snakes posed all fancy-like beside a couple of things that might have been bats or those dragons that didn’t have legs. Wyverns? Wyrms? I had read a few fantasy books during my blessed nerd summer before I’d taken my first job. I remembered a little about the creatures.

  I put my hands on my hips and stared at the door. “What are you doing here? You’re making me seriously doubt saying no to those meds my doc suggested last year.”

  Even if I had somehow missed this monstrosity’s construction, Nancy Striffer wouldn’t have. That crazy woman ran the Daily Noser blog. She missed nothing. How had she not exposed this insane creation?

  “Where were you on this one, Nancy?” I called out to the sky.

  Amethyst lightning cracked, making me jump as it crawled across the morning clouds, branching out like hands. Thunder followed, an encore to last night’s storm.

  “More rain?” I huffed and kept on.

  Drops that were very serious about their job pelted me, so I ran and ducked under the archway. The double wooden doors—large enough to admit a country music star’s tour bus—closed off the entrance, and a smaller door was set into the first. The wood of the normal-sized door was smooth from what had to be years and years of use.

  “So bizarre. What are you doing here, Italian castle? I must be insane,” I mumbled.

  The normal-sized door opened.

  I stepped back as a dark-haired man appeared, a jade-green cloak draped over his broad shoulders and some Renaissance-Faire-looking trousers tucked into his tall boots. A strange chill speared my chest. Danger emanated from the guy in undeniable waves. I was very glad I’d taken two years of Krav Maga from my friend Titus who’d insisted I train after a break-in at my place.

  “You’re not insane,” the man said in a heavily accented voice. The storm’s wind ruffled his partially open shirt, showing off a well-muscled chest. “Though I do have questions.”

  “Says the man in a flowing green cloak who just walked out of a castle.”

  So yeah, I was actually a little scared of this guy. But I was also insanely curious. And if I were honest with myself, turned on. From cliff diving to fast bikes, I was kind of into danger. And to deem this man ‘hot’ would be like calling chocolate croissants ‘nice.’ He was too fine to be called merely hot. His face looked like a painting from a museum, all forlorn hazel eyes, perfectly tousled jet-black hair, and smooth, olive skin. His bone structure would’ve made the David statue super jealous. And unless I was mistaken, he’d dyed a couple of strands of his hair dark emerald.

  “You are tragically gorgeous.” I covered my mouth, cheeks blazing. Nice work, Connelly. Super smooth. “You know what? I need to go.” It was way past time to get away from this guy who simultaneously gave me chills of dread and shivers of delight.

  A spark of deep green flashed in the man’s eyes, and suddenly my idea of leaving seemed silly.

  Why had I wanted to go again?

  The sensation from earlier started up again, like invisible hands brushing over my skin—up my legs, between my thighs.

  I gasped. What was going on? His eyes… People’s eyes didn’t flash colors like that. I rubbed my face, then shook my head to clear it.

  His clothes changed. Same jewel-toned colors, but the textures were different. Dark green oak leaves, layered like feathers, draped over him like a cloak. His black shirt shimmered like spun silk. His trousers looked soft and pliable like leaves that had been somehow stitched together. A tattered bit of red silk hung from a belt of vines, and even in the incredible weirdness of his entire being, I wondered at how that one piece of red silk didn’t fit the rest of him. What was it for?

  Looking at his face, I blinked. That too had changed. His skin was luminescent, and my fingers ached to touch his cheek. His eyelashes had grown thicker too, and… No way. There were tiny leaves at the ends of his lashes. My gaze traveled upward. Black horns spiraled out of his head.

  I rubbed my face again. This was nutso. Madness. One word came to my mind.

  Magic.

  The delicious sensations faded to a point where I could almost think. I was being paranoid and possibly hallucinating. Maybe I hadn’t slept as well as I’d thought last night. What was I about to do? Leave? But why?

  I started to go, my thoughts whirling, but a new wave of pleasure rode up my back and across the nape of my neck. I turned back to see his fingers twitching at his sides, his gaze following the path of the insane sensations coursing through my body, heading at the moment for my breasts. Something shadowy moved behind his back. I squinted, body melting, then g
asped. He had wings. Wings made of dark vines and glossy ivy. He was magnificent. The most stunning thing I’d ever seen. I couldn’t take it in.

  Dizziness made me shut my eyes. What in the…

  “You are the sunlight on the sea,” he said, his words almost a growl and making me open my eyes.

  Knees like pudding, I swallowed. “I know that’s sarcasm,” I slurred out, “but I’ll take it from that pretty mouth of yours.” Drunk on whatever this feeling was, I shrugged off my worry, the nagging need to flee. In for a penny… “When, exactly, did you build this? I am freaking out right now because I could’ve sworn this place wasn’t here this morning. Is this some sort of Shakespeare or cosplay thing?” I waved a hand at his cloak and horns. “Or like the strangest prank ever?”