PROLOGUE

For I am the King of Owls.

Where I float no shadow falls.

I have hungers, such terrible hungers, you cannot know.

Lords, I sharpen my talons on your bones.

By Louise Erdrich (The King of the Owls).

Sarah woke with a start. Everything was quiet and she didn't sense any presence in her room but something woke her all the same. She climbed out of bed and headed for her balcony. Outside the night air was crisp, but bearable even in her flimsy nightgown.

The first thing she noticed was the music. She could hear the fast beating, melodious music weaving up through the labyrinth from the direction of the forest. With her hands on the railing, she leaned over and could make out the glowing luminescence of a bonfire.

Her interest was piqued. She licked her lips and rushed back inside for her robe. She knew the Goblin King would not be pleased if he found her leaving the castle at night, or indeed her rooms.

But something about that music was stirring her blood; calling it to action. Sarah had to get a closer look. Also, she didn't give a fuck about what he thought.

The journey through the castle was uneventful and swift. The shortcut to the forest also released her unhindered. Before long, she was so close to the music she could feel the thrum running through her body.

Sarah stopped short of entering the circle of firelight. Instead, she found sanctuary up a nearby tree that was nestled in the shadows. Her hands and feet found purchase up the wide trunk with ease and skill she wasn't sure she naturally possessed.

Sarah sat nestled in the canopy, astride a wide branch, looking down upon a group of the dancing fae.

It didn't take her long to see the Goblin King front and centre, weaving his gyrating body between his fellow dancers. Sarah's eyes wandered from him to the musicians playing the Underground versions of flutes, fiddles and drums. Even the fire was entranced by the magic they were emitting from their instruments; it was swaying in time and licking at the heels of the fae.

Sarah had never seen anything like it. And the urge within her to join, grew exponentially as she watched from her lichen-covered bough. She had to dig her fingers into the rough bark to stop from swinging herself off the branch into the fray.

Soon enough she was distracted by the change in tempo and timbre of the music. Sarah became aware that every single dancer was now slowly, and sensually removing their clothing. Her eyes found the Goblin King again, now half naked with only his tight trousers, gloves and his medallion on his body. Sarah noticed that he was— unusually for him—barefoot.

She looked away, from guilt more than embarrassment, and focused on the musicians again. It was then when she noticed a female fae with long ebony hair down to her ankles not dancing, but just swaying in time. She was incongruous by her lack of movements. She wore a cloak made entirely of owl feathers and a crown of dried wildflowers.

Sarah nearly gasped as this unknown fae, suddenly dropped her cloak, forcing every other dancer to sink to the ground. They were all completely naked, kneeling before the female. All except the Goblin King, who Sarah quickly realised was now completely nude aside from his medallion. He had even removed his gloves. He stood before the naked, previously-cloaked female and canted his head with a smile.

As he tipped his head, gold streaks glittered in his hair, contrasting with the black streaks he also sported. The contrast made his blonde hair appear almost silver in the fusion of moon and firelight.

The soft firelight flickering off his taut muscles, and casting shadows over his porcelain-fine features, lent him an air of absolute authority even in his state of undress. His makeup and face paint in shades of gold and black only enhanced his natural fae markings, making him appear godlike. He also appeared cognizant of this fact, Sarah observed wryly. Especially given what was happening below the waistline.

Sarah exhaled and tore her eyes away from what no trousers could hide. At least, no trousers he would wear. She settled on watching the gentle ripple and flex of his chest as he moved and the way his eyes danced in the firelight.

The music still played on, but it had become mere background noise. Sarah ripped her eyes away from the Goblin King's lithe, naked form to observe the unknown female. She didn't have an owl tattoo unlike everyone else. At least, she couldn't see it.

She just stood there, her arms outstretched and her chin held high. The Goblin King started circling her, his eyes roaming her naked body. Up and down his eyes raked, taking everything in. Tension coiled in Sarah's stomach but she was quick to ignore it. It was only when he started running his naked finger down her spine that Sarah reacted.

She had been leaning forward, entranced by the scene in front of her. As she watched the King bring both his hands onto the female's shoulders and start stroking her supple, silky-looking skin, she lurched forward. Her hands wrestled for purchase, knocking some loose twigs and leaves fluttering to the ground. Sarah was reluctant to admit jealousy had made her careless.

She held her breath but nothing changed. No accusing eyes turned her way. The King was sliding his hands around the female's hips as everyone watched on in exuberant worship.

Slowly, Sarah—gritting her teeth—started easing back along the branch to avoid either plummeting to the ground or being caught spying by a bunch of naked fae.

She gasped as the branch she had been leaning on gave a loud crack. She swiftly scooted back into the denser foliage but the damage was done. The branch swung from the tattered timber it remained tethered to like a child's wiggly tooth.

The music stopped. The flickering of the firelight stopped. It seemed everything but her heart rate stopped. Sarah watched as the branch froze in midair. This was bad.

She closed her eyes and held her breath as she pushed herself as close as she dared to the trunk of the tree.

She heard a soft rustle in front of her. Quiet and soft, but it felt like ten thousand drums in the present stillness of time. With a child's logic, she willed the world away with eyes firmly shut.

"Champion."

His voice was passive. He didn't sound angry. She cracked one eye to see the King, sitting on her branch, (or what remained of it) still naked. One leg was dangling down, the other crooked up with his arm resting on his bent knee.

"Goblin King."

His face cracked into a dark grin. "You should have stayed in the castle. This is no place for a mortal such as yourself."

"Who is she?" Sarah didn't know why she cared.

"She is none of your concern."

"I haven't seen her before."

"And nor are you likely to again." His voice brooked no refusal. There was something final, yet sad in his tone of voice; a kind of wistful longing.

"Are you threatening me?" Fear and determination pricked at her skin in equal measure. She managed to keep her voice level and her eyes stony. She would happily push him off his perch if she had to.

He tilted his head and frowned slightly before he laughed. "I don't mean that you will die, or that I would kill you. I simply meant that you are mortal and should never have seen her in the first place. And once I have completed the rite, she will not appear in this world again."

As he sighed, Sarah got the feeling he was leaving a lot unsaid.

"Is she—?"

"Why are you here, Curadh?"

"I don't know." She gripped the trunk tighter. "I woke and found myself coming here."

"Interrupting an Earnáil na n-ulchabhán ritual is a grave offence."

"Am I not part of The Earnáil whatsit?"

"Yes, but not a fully-fledged member," he said, with a deep sigh. "And you've made it clear that this is not what you want."

Sarah left his statement unrefuted. She must have imagined his hint of bitterness in his last statement.

"I can only hold back time for so long, Curadh. She could unfreeze herself with but a thought." He looked down towards where Sarah guessed the raven-haired beauty stood naked and frozen in time.

The way he intoned her cult-name—Curadh— had the hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention.

She nodded and glanced at him. His expression was softer than it had been earlier, despite the harshness in his voice. The confusing creature, Sarah thought with a mental shake of her head.

"Perhaps one day you could take part in this rite." He held out a crystal in his glove-less hand. "And then you could have the honour of meeting her. But until then…"

Sarah clasped his crystal and instantly found herself back in her room upon her bed.

Sarah was bewildered. What had drawn her to that rite so hastily? Who was that female? Why were they dancing? Why wasn't she invited? Why were they all naked? Why did the Goblin King touching that female create ineffable reactions inside her?

Sarah was dubious about how much sleep she was going to get if any after all she had witnessed. So she sat outside in the cool air of her balcony listening to the music and watching the bonfire.

A year and a half ago, there was no way Sarah would have cared about any of those answers. She would have just wanted to go home.

She looked out across the Labyrinth and traced its many paths with her eyes. She sighed deeply. Part of her was still reluctant, but another blossoming part of her was about ready to acknowledge this was home.

She wondered how the Goblin King fit into her developing concept of home. After all, he was the reason she was here in the Underground after all.

Him, and her brother of course. Though neither of them could be held totally accountable. She wondered if a small part of her had wanted this when that careless wish had been made eighteen months earlier.

If they had never stumbled upon that wishing well…

Sarah stood to return inside when something made her turn back around.

A barn owl landed gracefully beside her, tucking his wings in and canting his head. Sarah glanced at it and quirked a brow.

The Goblin King was suddenly before her and he knelt down in front of her, causing Sarah to recoil with shock.

Hadn't he told her that he would kneel to no one?

"What—?"

"I couldn't go through with the rite," he said, his hand reaching out to her. "If there is a chance, however small, that you could save me, I know now that I want you to try."

He swallowed hard as he watched her. His anguish was painted into every line of his face. Sarah knew it cost him a lot to be here before her like this. But it was what he said next that floored her.

"Sarah, please."

It wasn't so much that he had said please, but he had used her name. Her actual name. No one had called her Sarah in over half a year.

"Say it again…"

Author Note:

That last line was inspired by Ever After, "The part where you said my name."

Anyway, I needed to write something lighter than my recent foray into darker fics haha. So this is lighter and romantic but will include drama and angst as appropriate. And smut. Healthy, consensual smut.

It's a multi-chapter that I've been working on for some time, so I have a few chapters up my sleeve.

I started another one and got seven chapters in before I decided I hated it. I may go back to it.

I will be working on the final instalment of The Beck and Call Saga at the same time. Yay, for multi WIPs. Haha.

Anyway, thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed it. :)