Traitor of the Entitled Novella Read online

  Contents

  Also by Shannon Lynn Cook

  Magical Factions

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Creatures of Midnight

  Also by Shannon Lynn Cook

  Newsletter

  About the Author

  Also by Shannon Lynn Cook

  Obsidian Queen

  Guild of Secrets

  Princess of Shadows

  Knights of Obsidian

  Creatures of Midnight

  Traitor of the Entitled: An Obsidian Queen Novella

  Writing as Shari L. Tapscott

  Silver & Orchids

  Moss Forest Orchid

  Greybrow Serpent

  Wildwood Larkwing

  Lily of the Desert

  Fire & Feathers: Novelette Prequel to Moss Forest Orchid

  Eldentimber Series

  Pippa of Lauramore

  Anwen of Primewood

  Seirsha of Errinton

  Rosie of Triblue

  Audette of Brookraven

  Elodie of the Sea

  Grace of Vernow: An Eldentimber Novelette

  Fairy Tale Kingdoms

  The Marquise and Her Cat: A Puss in Boots Retelling

  The Queen of Gold and Straw: A Rumpelstiltskin Retelling

  The Sorceress in Training: A Retelling of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice

  Contemporary Fiction

  27 Ways Series

  27 Ways to Find a Boyfriend

  27 Ways to Mend His Broken Heart

  10 Ways to Survive Christmas with Your Ex

  Glitter and Sparkle Series

  Glitter and Sparkle

  Shine and Shimmer

  Sugar and Spice

  If the Summer Lasted Forever

  Just the Essentials

  Traitor of the Entitled: An Obsidian Queen Novella

  Obsidian Queen Series

  Copyright © 2020 by Shannon Lynn Cook

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Editing by Z.A. Sunday

  Cover Design by Shannon Lynn Cook

  Magical Factions

  Urocyon

  The Foxes

  Masters of Stealth and Manipulation

  Lupus

  The Wolves

  Leaders

  Gryphus

  The Griffons

  Masters of Magical Intuition & Insight

  Lepus

  The Rabbits

  Animal Whisperers

  Draconem

  The Dragons

  Masters of the Elements

  Cervidae

  The Deer

  Healers

  Passeridae

  The Sparrows

  Jack of all Trades, Master of None

  Taurus

  The Bulls

  Gifted with Great Strength

  Canis

  The Hounds

  Trackers

  Cristatus

  The Peacocks

  Gifted with Beauty and Grace

  Sciuridae

  The Squirrels

  Tinkers and Craftsmen

  Rhopalocera

  The Butterflies

  Masters of Light and Illusion

  Chamaeleonidae

  The Chameleons

  Shifters

  Strigiformes

  The Owls

  Alchemists

  Struthio

  The Ostriches

  Ungifted

  1

  I know he followed me. Intuition prickles my skin, telling me he’s back there, trying to figure out which way I went. The question is, do I lose him…or wait?

  I maneuver past people—people everywhere. Short people, tall people, drunk people, desperate people. I hate casinos.

  Around me, the digital music from a hundred slot machines blurs together into a headache-inducing cacophony.

  “Chloe!” the man hollers from behind me, his deep voice rising over the noise—an impressive feat…and an embarrassing one. People look his way, their attention first grabbed by his shout and then by the man himself.

  I reluctantly turn, pressing my lips together as though he’s a nuisance and I’m simply humoring him. The truth is, though, I’m just as captivated by Eric as the rest of the crowd. Which is bad.

  One look at the knight marshal and you know he’s trouble. Built like a linebacker, Eric is six-foot-four-inches of handsome, with Nordic blond hair and light blue eyes. He’s smiling now, his gaze on me, and my pulse increases without my permission.

  “What?” I demand when he’s close.

  You know all those people who were gawking at him? They’re now gawking at us.

  “Let me take you to dinner.” He gives me a gentle smile and eases closer until we’re a comfortable distance apart—treating me like I’m an ornery animal in need of soothing. “You still need to eat, and we can discuss the job I want to hire you for.”

  I roll my eyes. “What job?”

  “I need you to fix my tablet, remember?”

  He might have mentioned it, but I highly doubt he has a broken tablet in need of fixing. I jerk my head in the direction of the cafe I stormed out of, where just moments ago, we were sitting down with our teams and pretending it’s not majorly creepy that someone or something is running amok in a fashion expo and sucking the magic out of modeling Peacocks. “Didn’t you already order? Go back to your team.”

  “I see them every day. I’d rather get to know you.”

  He’s smooth, practiced. Everything about him promises, “You can trust me. I’m nice.”

  Which makes me trust him all that much less.

  “I have plenty of friends,” I say as I turn from him. “I don’t need another.”

  Because Eric is proving to be annoyingly persistent, he matches my steps, walking with me through the crowd. “That might be, but what about me? Maybe I don’t have plenty of friends. Surely, you’ll take pity on me.”

  I snort, not believing that for a minute.

  “This is because of the plane, isn’t it?” he asks, abruptly changing the subject. “I’m still paying for that bad first impression.”

  I glance at him, refusing to answer. We met on the flight from Denver to Vegas, and it would be an understatement to say he’s a nervous flyer. His Fox teammate had to magically persuade him to calm the heck down. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gave himself an ulcer.

  “It’s your fault, though,” he goes on.

  I manage to hold out for five whole seconds before I take the bait. “How do you figure?”

  “You should have been at Gray’s meeting in Denver. I’m sure I would have managed a better first impression then. Why weren’t you there, anyway?”

  Pausing, I flash him a dark look, silently informing him that’s a road we’re not going down. My occasional teammates, Thomas and Brett, told Gray I was filing a patent on something I’m working on—a likely story since I contact the patent office often enough. But the truth is, I was in my own meeting.

  You see, Eric and I might look like we’re on the same side, but unbeknownst t
o him, we’re not allies.

  The knight is in the hand of the Royal Guild—the self-appointed monarchy of puffed up, usurper Aparians who wrongly believe they have some claim to the throne. For a thousand years, since our people have been trapped in this human world, the guild has tried to govern us, tell us how we can and cannot use our magic. Keep it secret, keep it hidden, keep the thresholds between our worlds locked.

  Could we help these humans we’re stuck with? Improve their health care, their technology, their lives in general? Yes, but that doesn’t matter to the guild.

  Now, for the first time in our history, we have a chance to overthrow their control, unlock the thresholds, and return to our land of Aparia. And we, a group the Royal Guild has snidely called the Entitled in an attempt to make us seem like spoiled, arrogant anarchists, will do anything to see the thresholds opened and our rightful queen—a woman born of ancient royal bloodlines—on the throne once more.

  Even if that means abducting the queen herself, who is unfortunately under the protection of Gray Tate’s team…which just happens to be Eric’s team as well.

  My empty stomach tightens with apprehension. To be honest, the abducting part doesn’t sit well with me, but those are our orders, and I haven’t managed to get Madeline alone so we can speak with her. We don’t know how much her team knows, or what kind of lies they’ve fed her. She’s been raised as the daughter of Lord Bennet, one of the highest-ranking noblemen in the guild and the duke’s personal advisor.

  The only thing we know for certain is that the Royal Guild, as a whole, seems currently unaware of who she is. Lord Bennet, for whatever reason, has done a fine job of keeping her identity under wraps.

  Maybe he loves her—maybe he’s trying to protect her.

  The elders argued with Cordelia Vellada when she brought that up in our meeting, vehemently refusing to believe Madeline’s family adopted her for any reason other than political advantage.

  I don’t know what I think, but even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. I’m just here because I was the right girl for the job.

  Eric laughs, drawing me out of my head. “You can’t tell me what you’re working on?” He leans down—way down—and lowers his voice. “Is it top secret?”

  “No.” I quicken my pace. The problem is, I’m only five-foot-one-and-a-half (the half is important, thank you), and Eric wouldn’t have to pick up his speed unless I started running. Even then, I’m sure he’d have no trouble keeping up with me.

  I feel like a little girl next to him. It’s ridiculous. I’m pretty much shorter than everyone, but I’m not this much shorter.

  “Can I ask you something?” he says, undaunted by my aloof attitude and dark scowl, looking like he’s going for a leisurely stroll while I’m beginning to huff a bit.

  Rolling my eyes, I answer, “If I knew how to stop you, I would have already done it.”

  “Have you Squirrels figured out teleporting yet?”

  I give him a withering look.

  He chuckles. “Just curious.”

  Well, his curiosity doesn’t do him any favors. Way to point out that my magic is socially beneath yours, knight.

  I’m just a Squirrel, of the Sciuridae faction—a tinker, an inventor, even a computer hacker at times. I’m handy to have around, sure. But no high-and-mighty knight marshal wants to bring a lowly Squirrel home to meet his high-and-mighty parents. At least that’s what the last one told me.

  Not that I’m thinking of Eric that way. Been there, done that, learned my lesson.

  But he’s just a Rabbit, I can’t help but think, despising myself a bit for letting the thought slip through.

  It’s true, though. The giant of a man is a Rabbit, or a Bunny Hugger as many jokingly call them, part of the Lepus faction. Which is utterly ridiculous. He’s an animal whisperer of all things—an antiquated magic class, some say. It’s not like the days of old in Aparia, when the Rabbits were the stablemasters, the dragon tamers, and a critical part of the queen’s inner circle.

  Now most Rabbits work alongside human veterinarians, conducting yearly cat checkups and neutering poodles. Most certainly aren’t on the Knights’ Guild’s payroll. Which just goes to show it’s Eric’s size alone, his strength, that landed him the position.

  But it doesn’t matter how he got there; the fact is he’s one of them. Knight marshals are the rock stars of the Knights’ Guild—cocky, strong, admired. Narcissistic and self-absorbed.

  Crazy handsome.

  I blink the rogue thought away.

  “Can I ask you another question?”

  I stop abruptly, setting my hands on my hips, breathing a little too hard. “What?”

  Eric grins, looking down at me. He nods his head toward a nearby slot machine, one with a demented-looking cartoon leprechaun leering at me from atop his pot of gold. “Can you manipulate those?”

  Unable to help myself, I let out an incredulous laugh. “Are you a Rabbit or a Fox?”

  “I didn’t say I wanted you to. I was just curious if you could.”

  I glance at the machine, already feeling its inner workings—the wires, circuits, mechanics, and programming. It’s an open book, easy to read, even easier to control. Without a word, I march up to the machine and hold out my hand. “Do you have a dollar?”

  Amused, Eric steps in next to me, his arm brushing my shoulder, and hands me four quarters. I slide them in, one by one, and the awful machine makes a racket with each coin. Once it’s ready, the large red button lights up.

  “Go ahead,” I tell him.

  He leans down until his mouth is dangerously close to my ear. “You know, technically, I could arrest you for this.”

  Feeling oddly bold, I turn my head and meet his light blue gaze. “Are you sure this isn’t just an excuse to put your cuffs on me, Bunny?”

  His eyebrows shoot up, and he lets out a laugh that warms my chest.

  “Push the button,” I say, almost as though it’s a dare. I’ll do the magic, but he has to initiate it if he wants to see my work.

  With his eyes never leaving mine, he sets his palm across the button…and presses down.

  I turn from him, feeling the machine, coaxing it, manipulating it gently.

  Red seven.

  Red seven.

  The last dial continues to spin…going slower and slower. And then…

  Red seven.

  The machine lights up, and an alarm goes off that has every eye in the vicinity looking our way. The payout is so great, we must wait for an attendant.

  “You just won twenty-five thousand dollars,” Eric says, looking somewhat dazed.

  I shrug. It’s not winning when you cheat.

  “Congratulations,” says a man in a sparkly silver and red suit when he arrives, giving me a genuine smile. He glances at Eric, and that smile grows. “Don’t tell me—honeymooners?”

  My mouth falls open, but Eric laughs, not bothering to correct him.

  “I have an eye for these things,” the man assures us. Then he checks the machine and asks to look at my driver’s license.

  “Everything appears to be in order,” he says. “Follow me, and we’ll get you a check.”

  “We don’t want the money,” I tell him. “I was just playing for the fun of it.”

  The man stares at me, his grin drooping. “You don’t…want…the money?”

  “Nope.” I tug Eric’s arm, pulling him with me as I walk away. Over my shoulder, I say to the attendant, “Thank you, though.”

  Eric is like pulling the freaking Titanic. He moves forward slowly, stupefied. After several steps, he leans down. “You’re walking away from twenty-five thousand dollars?”

  “It’s not mine to take.”

  Slowly, his disbelief morphs to amusement, maybe even respect. “You’re a funny little Squirrel.”

  There he goes again.

  “You also owe me dinner,” he adds.

  I whip my head his way. “How do you figure?”

  He playfully bumps into me and t
hen wraps an arm around my shoulders. “That was my dollar you walked away from back there.”

  2

  “You certainly know how to treat a guy to a date,” Eric says, and then he shoves a chip into his mouth.

  I nod to the hot dog stand that sits between an ice cream shop and a fancy lingerie store in the mall section of the casino. “You’re welcome. And this isn’t a date.”

  “Yeah…” He smiles to himself, looking pretty darn cocky. “It is.”

  I shake my head, choosing to ignore him.

  Just after I take a bite of my corndog, my phone rings. I shove the paper basket at Eric and pull it out of my back pocket, covering my mouth when I hit the green button to accept the call.

  “Yeah?” I say, my mouth still full. Quickly, I swallow. “What is it?”

  “Tad freakin’ scared the crap out of Madeline, and the team is moving rooms,” Thomas says.

  My eyes fly to Eric, hoping he didn’t overhear. I take several steps away, turning my back on the knight.

  “What happened?” I demand, attempting to keep things vague on my end.

  Tad was supposed to initiate contact, let Madeline know representatives from the Entitled are here and want to talk. It was my idea—a last hope to keep things friendly before we up and kidnap her. I knew appointing Tad for the task was a mistake. The Fox is slimy, but the elders put up with him because he’s good. And I have to put up with him because the elders put up with him.