Heir of the Phoenix: Queen of Death

Chapter 1: Blood of my Kin

Fairies are so hot.

And their lips are so soft. Or Aisling's are. I've wanted to kiss his lips since we met at Enverleem's school of Magicum. The first moment I saw him, he was drenched in sweat from playing Rosimach. Catera had dragged me to practice, even though I was knee-deep in my History of Ethereal Magic class.

Luckily, we became fast friends. Fast enough that we kept in touch when summer started. It's blind luck that he's the son of the King of Fairies, and I'm the son of the Magister of Esterios. We bump into each other often.

His tanned finger runs down the golden-brown skin of my face. The cerulean light burns softly against my skin. His deep blue eyes examine my face as if he is writing it to his memory. His eyes sparkle under the soft blue light from his wings. "You're beautiful."

His voice is deeper than most of the other fae I've met. I quiver at the bass in his voice.

"Shhh! My dad would kill me if he knew I was making out with a fairy."

Aisling's face lights up as a grin stretches across his perfectly pink lips. He leans in, his lips pointed at mine. The moment our lips touch sparks dance across them.

The Convergence.

The static electricity is generated from two different sources of magic: his fairy magic and my wizard magic fighting for dominance across our lips.

I am lost in his kiss, so much so that I forget we are my father's library among the rows of dusty old books, each more worn than the next. His greatest hobby aside from ruling over the people of Esterios.

Human and wizard alike.

The door creaks open as my brother, Wilum, pokes his head in. His broad nose, the same as mine, pokes in first, followed by the rest of his face. His amber eyes round the room just as Aisling jumps away from me. The carefully constructed yet revealing suit made of leaves shimmers as he finds his footing.

Wilum's lips part slightly before he slides through the door. "What's up, little brother?"

"Nothing! Nothing. I was showing Aisling—you've met Aisling—the library."

Aisling chuckles nervously as Wilum crosses the room to us. "Yeah, we've been to enough of these that we're basically friends."

Wilum stands opposite Aisling, his shoulders locked. In a weird movement, he flexes, puffing himself up to look bigger. "Basically. Prince of the fairies."

"Yes, that's me." Aisling smiles through gritted teeth.

"Wilum." My voice climbs an octave. "You should go, Aisling."

Aisling nods, grinning at me before sweeping past Wilum and exiting the room. Wilum waits patiently until the door closes before he chuckles. "You know Dad—"

"Yes."

"And—"

"I know."

"He has a list of approved suitors to strengthen our ties to other covens."

"Why, you're the next Magister. I'm the spare."

"Spare or not, you have a place." Wilum clears his throat. "You can do better than a fairy. His dad has five wives. I don't see you being one of five."

"I'm seventeen. I'm not thinking that far ahead."

"Maybe you should. You're a Magister's son. A lot is expected from us."

"I'm sure humans don't give a crap about who I marry, and the other covens just want to break into our lives," I argue. "Did Dad send you to find me?"

"No. He asked, but I told him you were hanging out with your friends from school."