I'm back guys! I am so sorry for taking so long but you know how college is. But now that I am here for college break I am trying to get back on the grind. I promise to update my other stories soon but first I wanted to start this new story and see how everyone feels about it. This story is of course Liason. It is an AU. So forget everything you know about Jason Morgan and Elizabeth Webber because nothing is the same.
Embraced Destiny
Summary:
The land of Faerie is divided between the White Court (the "good" Court) and the Black Court (the "evil" Court). The Queen of the Black Court wants to unite the Courts under one dark rule, but she needs a figurehead, an heir to both the White and the Black thrones. And so she sends her son to the mortal world to seduce the illegitimate daughter of the White Courts King.
Jason Morgan has never met a mortal woman he couldn't seduce. What his charm and good looks can't accomplish, his Faerie glamour can. He's sure Elizabeth Webber will be no exception. But the more he gets to know her, the more he gets to like her, and soon Jason finds himself burdened with the one thing a prince of the Black Court cannot afford: a conscience.
As Jason ignites her passions and wins her trust, Elizabeth must come to grips with the heritage she has long denied. And Jason must find a way to escape the heritage that would force him to break the heart of the woman he has grown to love
Chapter 1
Jason pulled his leather coat tightly closed and surreptitiously tucked his hands under his armpits. The breeze held a sharp November bite, and he had enough mortal blood in him to feel the cold keenly. He wished his mother had waited for spring to engage in this latest round of Court intrigue. He slanted a glance in her direction. She was sitting beside him on the bench on the docks of Port Charles looking serene and regal and not the least bit cold. The heavy mink coat that draped her body was for effect only. She must have felt his eyes on her, for she turned her head his direction. Jason abruptly looked away. No one, not even her son, wished to be the recipient of the full attention of the Queen of Air and Darkness.
"Are you growing impatient, my son?" she asked.
Her voice had a brittle, unsettling edge to it, and it chilled him more than the cold air. But showing fear in front of her was like waving a bloody steak before a wolf, so he stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles, and tried to look bored.
"We've been out here almost an hour," he said, not looking at her. "When is this little morsel going to make an appearance?"
"Sooner than you think."
Jason sat up abruptly and turned to see his mother smiling at someone in the distance. It was the same smile she wore when she ordered a particularly gruesome execution, and he felt an instant of pity for the recipient of that smile. Then, he followed her gaze. His eyes were drawn instantly to the woman who held his mother's attention.
"Is that her?" he asked.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Queen nod. He pulled the brim of his hat down so that he could regard the target more closely without being seen. His first impression was that she was rather unprepossessing. She was wearing an ill-fitted padded coat that hid any shape she might have had, and her cheeks were apple red from the cold. Her jeans were threadbare, but not in a fashionable way, more in an about-to-fall-apart way. Frizzy brown curls peeked out from under an ugly knit hat pulled down all the way to her ears, and a mismatched knit scarf was wrapped around her throat. Warm she might be, but he wondered if she'd ever seen herself in the mirror in that get-up. She must have inherited more than her fair share of her mother's genes, Jason decided. He couldn't discern even a passing resemblance to Jeff, the High King of the White Court.
He cocked his head at his mother. "Are you certain she's Jeff's kid?" he asked.
The Queen smiled savagely. "Quite certain, my son. From what I've heard, he was staggering drunk the night he sired her. I suspect he never even noticed her mother's face, being entirely absorbed with her . . . other charms."
Jason made a face at the thought. On a number of occasions after a successful hunt, he'd celebrated by visiting bars in the mortal world. He'd gotten pretty drunk a number of times, but never so drunk that he would accidentally bed someone ugly. The target—Elizabeth Webber—sat down on a bench only a few yards away, pulling a book from the pocket of her coat.
"The woman must be mad," he muttered under his breath.
No one in her right mind would sit out in this cold just to read. His own feet felt like lumps of ice in his heavy boots, and he suspected his lips were an unappealing shade of blue.
"Well?" the Queen prompted.
Jason shrugged. "Ordinarily I wouldn't give her a second glance," he said with a faint curl of his lip. "But I doubt bedding her will be overly unpleasant."
The Queen snorted. "I was not enquiring about your enthusiasm for your mission. I was asking if you thought you could manage it."
Jason sat up straight and turned a glare on her, hating that she knew so easily how to goad him. "Of course I can manage it!" he snapped. "She's homely enough that she'll be panting like a dog the moment I turn on the charm." He had yet to meet a mortal woman he couldn't seduce. The slump of this one's shoulders, and a certain pinched look about her eyes, suggested a loneliness he could easily exploit. The Queen's eyes glittered dangerously at his tone of voice, and Jason tensed. That glitter usually preceded a particularly painful disciplinary action. But he was so used to her discipline that he was almost immune to it. Almost. "I will have difficulty performing my duties if I am in pain," he told her in a mild, bland voice that sounded much calmer than he actually was.
Only a fool would be calm when the Queen of Air and Darkness was angry with him.
Her cold, beautiful face broke into a smile that did nothing to warm her aspect. "Why, Jason, dear, what makes you think I would hurt you?"
His insides twisted at the malevolence of her gaze. Being her son offered no protection, although other members of the Dark Court grumbled about perceived privileges. Jason had known from the time he was a little boy that she would not hesitate to execute him—slowly and painfully—if he ever displeased her. Just as she had executed his father when the foolish mortal had tried to take Jason away from the Dark Court. It took all of Jason's effort to keep his hatred from showing on his face. No matter what he said or did, she would undoubtedly keep him alive and relatively unharmed until he had done her wishes and fathered a childwith Jeff's bastard daughter. But he rather hoped to be kept alive afterward as well. So he fought the hatred that roiled within him, fought to keep his expression bland and thereby soothe her ire. The Queen reached out and touched his cheek with her bare hand. He knew better than to pull away, no matter how much the touch of her hand made his skin crawl.
"My beautiful son," she murmured, with something that could almost be taken for affection if he didn't know better. "You will have Jeff's bastard flat on her back in no time, I'm sure of it."
He nodded in tacit agreement, using the gesture to free himself from her touch. He raised his eyes for a moment to glance once more at the target. She was looking right at him, and he froze like a rabbit. There was something odd about her gaze, something strangely knowing. His pulse quickened and he found himself unable to look away. Had he doubted for a moment that Faerie blood flowed in her veins, the otherworldly look in her eyes quelled that doubt. Then she blinked and turned away, frowning, and she looked once more like the mortal woman she was.
"Let us prepare you for the attack," the Queen said, rising gracefully from the bench.
Please Read & Review
