Of Mischief and Mages – Bonus Scene

Enjoy this Of Mischief and Mages Bonus Scene from LJ Andrews

Of Mischief and Mages is a a standalone fantasy romance from the multi-author Forgotten Kingdoms collection. Forgotten Kingdoms is a set of eight full-length stand-alone fantasy romance novels with soulmates and a guaranteed happily ever after. With vampires, fae, shifters, and everything in between, each book features a unique heroine and her epic love story that can be read in any order.

Kage

I was going to kill a raven. No matter that he was technically already dead. 

“Asger!” I said with a low growl and tossed one of the satin pillows from our bed at the window. 

All it did was draw out a chortle he called a caw, like the bastard was laughing at me. 

With fumbling hands, too tired to function properly, I opened the latch to our window and glared at the bird. “What. Just what?”

One aggressive snip at my hand, and the raven fluttered into the room, perching on a wooden limb we had arranged in the room when the fool began obsessively coming to our chamber. 

Adira’s soft chuckle and gentle greeting did not help. “Ignore him, my friend,” she said. “He’s just lost out on some of his precious beauty sleep.”

I jabbed a finger at my wife, trying to appear stern. “I’ve told you, Wildling, that expression makes little sense to me.”

Again Adira snickered, so her nose wrinkled. 

I faced our wardrobe, more to hide the grin splitting over my lips, and tugged on a clean tunic. 

Asger would not be the first to arrive this morning. It was an important day, and soon (to my chagrin) Briar Keep would be packed with folk—mages, elven, word even arrived two nights ago the demon king and queen would be making an appearance.

I cared about a handful of faces that would be in the crowd today, no more. 

Dressed and more awake now that I’d filled a horn with some of Gwyn’s miraculous morning herbs, I approached the plush chair Adira had claimed. I strategically barred myself against Asger, shielding his view of the downy soft head cradled in my Wildling’s arms. 

I pressed a kiss to my daughter’s brow, then a longer, more meaningful one to my wife’s lips. 

“Feeling better, grump?” Adira whispered. 

“I don’t know how you function,” I whispered. “You hardly dose your tea with invigoration herbs, and I’ve already had to use a wakeful cast twice this week.”

Adira snorted and slowly rose from the chair. “I suppose we know who has the most stamina between the king and queen.”

“Challenging me, Wildling?” 

“Always, Thief.”

I arched a brow, passing over my drink for Adira to sip, and claimed the bundled girl instead. Tora, named a bit after her mother and mine, would be introduced to the folk of magic today. Born two months prior, I did not know a heart could grow to love another in such a way. 

Adira was my soul, my heart, my life—Tora made our best pieces and added to the beautiful life we’d won in ways I’d not expected. 

I could not truly fault Asger for his constant visits since she was born, I found myself rather keen to watch her every breath. With a forced frown of annoyance, I held her so Asger could see. “There, you have your look. Now be gone.”

He merely clacked his beak. 

One knock came to the door, then a few muffled voices, and another knock. Before we could invite any other bodies into our room the door crashed against the wall and Cy’s broad shape battled with Gwyn’s smaller figure on who would enter first. 

“Cyland!” Gwyn protested when he palmed the whole of her face and nudged her behind him. 

“Enough, my sweet,” he said. “I’ve a little princess to coddle. Hand her to me.” He held out his arms, fingers twitching. “My beautiful king, I am not jesting in the least. Hand the girl to me.”

“No.” I turned her away, waiting for the third face in the trio to arrive. “I promised her to your husband.”

Cy’s eyes went dark when Hugo shoved between the both of them and took Tora in his thick arms. 

“Betrayal at the deepest level.” Cy flicked Hugo’s ear and signaled for Asger. “Choose me now, you traitor. Look what I am left with since you chose to die. I’ve need of comfort.”

Asger ruffled, but eventually fluttered to Cy’s shoulder, drawing out a jealous squawk from the window when Hakon landed on the sill. 

Adira laughed and nestled against my side. “Want to help us get her ready for the ceremony?”

Gwyn pinched her lips like we were utter fools. “You can’t truly think I am here for any of you. I am only here for her.”

Adira snorted, laced her fingers with mine, and led the way to the pile of soft silks and satins Tora was gifted by her great grandmother for her house day. 

“This must end someday,” I whispered, drawing one arm around Adira’s waist, pinning her back to my chest. “They are bound to lose interest so every morning is not a stampede into our chamber.”

“Be glad your daughter is well loved.”

“I am.” I pressed a kiss to her neck. “But there might be mornings when I would like to love on her mother and the last time I tried, Cyland made comments on my bare ass showing when he barged in.”

Adira shuddered, holding in a laugh, but spun around to peck my lips. “You’re the one who took credit for showing him how to pick a spell casted lock. Really, it’s your fault.”

I rolled my eyes, but kissed her, passionate and long overdue. 

“Let’s get this over with so we can be rid of all these faces sooner.”

* * *

The gardens were laden in ribbons and banners of House Ravenwood and House Wilder. The oak seal of mage royalty was embossed in gold across the varying shades of blue and silver. 

Horns and goblets of endless meads and wines from across Terrea were held in the hands of all manner of folk. Mages were the most numerous, naturally, but among them were kings and queens from the various realms. 

Adira had taken a great liking to the serpents and elves, no mistake because of our interactions to break curses. I gave a stoic nod to King Hadeon. He wasn’t such a surly bastard—truth be told I related to the elven king a great deal—but even three weaves after Adira and I took the throne, Hadeon and I still engaged in a private competition on who could scowl best at the other. 

Beneath an ivy bower, I knelt with Adira, Tora held in both our hands. 

In the front seats were my parents, Gwyn and her family, Cy and Hugo, and two birds who were valued amongst the lot of us. 

A house day occurred when an infant mage was anointed with the runes of their bloodline. A small claim before they met the Flames of Blood eventually. 

Tora looked like a bundle of starlight in her finely spun satin dress. Silver and blue and gold wrapped up her tiny arms and legs. Gaina, as soul speaker and a technical seer, was the one we asked to lead the marking. 

“Tora, born of strength and heart,” Gaina said gently. “Today you are embraced into the limbs of the tree that make up your houses. Bone and blood, Wilder and Ravenwood.”

Gaina gently marked Tora’s brow in herb water. The babe cooed and lifted her bright eyes to the light overhead. 

A bit of leafed gold was sprinkled in her dark hair, and spells of protection, strength, kindness, and cunning (added as a Gaina touch) were gifted to our daughter. 

Simple, heartfelt, and another magish ritual done simply to have a feast and mead. 

Still, there was something that burned deep inside when folk—common and royal—cheered and lavished the young mage princess in love and gifts and a few near-wars between Cyland and Gwyn on who held her best. 

Later, when Tora was sleeping, when the palace was silent again, and we’d threatened our friends to abandon the royal rooms, I tugged Adira’s body against mine. 

She fluttered her eyes open, a wrinkle of concern on her brow. “Kage? Did you have a nightmare?”

“No.” I kissed her, sweet and tender, then brushed her hair from her eyes. “I’ve not had one of those since I found you again, Wildling. I cannot sleep for I cannot stop my thoughts of you.”

Adira smirked and nuzzled against my neck. “Is that so? What sort of thoughts?”

“All kinds.” I kissed her throat, her shoulder, one palm snaking beneath her silken shift to the bare skin of her thigh. “I am lost in thoughts of the fire you blaze each day.”

Adira arched into me when my palm ghosted over her ribs. 

I kissed the corner of her mouth. “I’m lost in thoughts of how I pray to a goddess in which I have little faith, all to give thanks that you are here at my side.”

Her breath stuttered when I brushed a thumb over the peak of her nipple. 

My mouth hovered over hers. “I am lost in thoughts of how much I love you, how I always will. How I am in awe of you and the family we have created. You are my soul, Wildling.”

Adira’s brow furrowed when she kissed me. Deep, needy, a kiss filled with promises of heated moments tonight, tomorrow, for weaves to come. 

Moments that would fill endless sunrises with her in my arms. Always.