A Breath of Sunlight Read online

  SUNLIGHT AND SHADOWS BOOK 1

  SYDNEY WINWARD

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  A Breath of Sunlight

  COPYRIGHT © 2021 Sydney Winward

  Cover Design by: Sydney Winward

  Published by: Silver Forge Books

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Trade Paperback ISBN 978-1-7374854-1-4

  Digital ISBN 978-1-7374854-0-7

  www.sydneywinward.com

  For my husband who has been such a huge support along every step of the way. I couldn’t have done this without you!

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  THANK YOU

  STAY CONNECTED

  BOOKS BY SYDNEY WINWARD

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Today was the day the king of the fae was to choose his bride.

  Sunshine rained down from pink-lined clouds like drops of gold. It glistened and sparkled and beamed, its energy strong on the summer solstice in the Sun Kingdom of Heulwen. Laughter rang out in the castle courtyard as men and women alike from all over the kingdom gathered for the upcoming festivities. Many stood near the large, circular fountain while others conversed on a well-manicured lawn. Golden ribbons stretched from pillar to pillar while flowers of garlands, wreaths, and bouquets littered the large area.

  Calle Everdon wrung his hands, pacing back and forth beside the window. Sunshine filtered through the glass pane, and while he usually considered it a welcoming companion, it glanced right off his skin as if sensing his anxious energy.

  He gazed out at the women below as they entered the castle. Many wore crowns of flowers. Their emotions lay transparent on their faces. Lips twisted with anxiety. Eyebrows furrowed with both worry and determination. Eyes brightened with hope.

  Calle ran an anxious hand over the scratchy stubble on his face. All the unmarried women were to attend the celebration.

  All of them.

  On cue, his sweetheart, Nyana, slipped through the door, a comb placed in a simple blonde bun. Her light blue dress was plain and unadorned—a similar style to a servant’s—unlike her usual clothing.

  She rushed into his arms, and he clung tightly to her as if she might be yanked out of his life at any moment.

  At the thought, he clung tighter.

  “Calle,” she murmured as she pushed him away to hold him at arm’s length. He reluctantly obliged. Her long, gentle fingers smoothed each eyebrow, his high cheekbones, and finally lovingly traced the long points of his fae ears. “Don’t fret over this. Everything will turn out fine.”

  “How do you know?” He searched her blue eyes for a sliver of truth within their depths. “How do you know my brother won’t choose you?”

  “Because I have taken every precaution possible to avoid his notice. I look plain, don’t I?”

  She smiled brightly, her aura radiant as she turned in a full circle. A lump formed in his dry throat. “No,” he rasped. “You could never look plain.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer until their foreheads touched. An ache of longing solidified in his gut. “I beg you, Nyana. Run away with me. Leave all this behind.”

  The tension in the air thickened, slicing through the excited laughter coming from outside. Unease churned within him, and only increased tenfold at her answer. “You know we cannot run. You are a prince, Calle. You have duties to your people. Running today of all days would mean treason on both our heads.”

  “But I can’t lose you.”

  “And you won’t,” she whispered, cradling his face. “I won’t stand out amongst hundreds of other women. He won’t single me out. He won’t pick me.”

  “I would pick you.” He squeezed her shoulders and gazed at her with a serious expression. “You know he takes everything I want.”

  “But he doesn’t know about us, and he won’t until after he has chosen his bride.”

  An easier breath filled his lungs, and he let it out slowly. She was right. He was paranoid, and rightly so. He and Nyana had only dared to court in secret—without his brother’s knowledge. He couldn’t bear to lose her. It would break him.

  Her soothing touch moved to his neck-length red-brown hair. Each stroke of her fingers cooled the burning anxiety rising within him.

  “I wish I could heal you in here,” she said, placing her hand over his heart after a few moments of comfortable silence. “But I am not capable of magic like you.”

  Not all Sun Fae were capable of magic, like Nyana and Calle’s older brother, Liam. Liam overcompensated for his lack of talent with his cruelty and unending jealousy. They were always at odds with one another.

  Calle grimaced and rubbed the scar over his gold-tattooed wrist where Liam had sliced him to the bone during a fit of anger. Heulwen’s skilled healers had saved his hand, but only just. Perhaps “at odds” was too tame a term for their relationship.

  “Is your hand bothering you today?” she asked, a frown on her pretty face.

  He shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing at the twelve-pointed Heulwen scar tattoo. It gleamed beneath the sunlight like golden lava. “Just trapped in the past. Promise me, Nyana,” he glanced nervously toward the door as if someone in the hallway might overhear their hushed conversation, “stay out of Liam’s view. He’ll find a way to take you. I know he will.”

  “I promise.” She pressed a lingering kiss to his lips before giving him yet another radiant smile. “And after this is all over, we can court in the open.”

  Golden streams of magic flowed out of his fingertips like a gentle river. He coaxed the magic until it formed the shape of a flower. He tucked the flower into her hair, knowing she’d take it out before anyone else noticed. “I’m looking forward to the day.”

  Their hands slid out of each other’s in farewell. His gaze lingered on her long after she left. The heat slowly left the room as if a cloud blocked out her warm presence. A chill shook him to the bones—one consisting of relentless dread. Deep in his gut, his magic churned with trepidation. Something didn’t feel right.

  Taking a deep breath calmed his overbearing nerves. He straightened his clothing and exited the small drawing room in the east wing of the castle. Servants bustled past him with food piled high on golden platters for the summer solstice celebrations. The scents of cheese, wild boar, and spiced wine didn’t entice him, but rather drew anxiety further out of his core.

  He greeted many people by name on his way, until his friend, Joel, fell into step b
eside him. His brown hair fell across his forehead, his green eyes seeing far more than one expected. He possessed sun magic, but his came in the form of music. He could charm any animal into submission or strike peace in a room with only a few notes. An artist at heart with his head forever in the clouds.

  “I’ve figured it out,” Joel said without preamble as he flipped through a book filled with notes in his nearly indecipherable handwriting. “Liam has a very small chance of picking Nyana to become—”

  “Shh!” Calle hissed as he pushed his friend into the shadows, only to suck in a pained breath when the action sent a jolt of agony through his wrist. He cradled his hand to his chest as he glanced each way down the hallway, but no one appeared to have heard the comment. “You know you can’t say her name. Not yet.”

  Joel scrunched his eyebrows together, his fingers resting on the flute tied to his belt as if ready to draw it and use it as a weapon. “One song, and I think I can hide her from his view.”

  With a sigh, Calle shook his head. His entire body was both weary to the bone and fully alert. “Liam has his own disenchanters. It will only draw more notice.”

  His wrist still throbbed as they continued down the hallway, following hundreds of others into a vast courtyard. The music grew louder with each step, as did the number of guards. Fae guards wore the kingdom’s colors—red and gold—on a generic uniform. However, surrounding Liam at the top of the steps...

  The royal palace guards stood alert, each harpy wearing gold armor and a red cape over one shoulder with the Heulwen emblem on their breast. Their wings were tucked neatly behind their backs, but Calle had seen those wings unfurl faster than one could blink. Harpies were dangerous, but he counted himself lucky they served the royal family. On the day of a harpy’s birth, they were sworn into a blood oath to protect the royal family of the Sun Kingdom to their very last breath.

  Each of the harpies—both men and women—bowed to him as he approached and created a path for him to join Liam’s side. Joel found a place on the other side of the courtyard near the musicians.

  Calle straightened his crown and smoothed his clothing as he looked over the crowd. Laughter and radiant, excited smiles had joined the music. He marveled at how many women were in attendance, each competing to stand out from the crowd. Some wore their hair down around their shoulders. Others wore crowns of flowers or sunlight. But none were as beautiful as the woman who held his heart.

  Releasing a deep breath of relief, his shoulders relaxed. There were far too many choices for Liam to notice Nyana.

  He quickly spotted her small frame in a group of five other women. Her gentle features were pulled into an anxious strain, her mouth pinched. They made eye contact across the courtyard but glanced away just as fast.

  “You seem nervous, Calle,” Liam chuckled beside him, and he jumped at the sudden, unwelcome intrusion. It took all his self-control not to glance back in Nyana’s direction.

  “I’m simply curious about which one of these lovely women you will choose for your wife,” he replied in a steady voice. His mouth twitched as he feigned amusement. “I can’t help but wonder who will be left for me.”

  Liam clapped him on the back a bit harder than a friendly pat. “You will get your turn when you turn twenty-one next year. But the question is...will you choose beauty or an advantageous match?”

  The vein in his neck pulsed with every pounding heartbeat even as he gave a nonchalant shrug. The Everdon royal family had chosen their spouses this way for many generations, and even though their parents had both passed, he and Liam continued the tradition. In the past, women already a part of the court had been chosen, but every once in a while, a beauty from an outlying village would turn an eye.

  “I suppose I will find out when the time comes.”

  Relax, he ordered his body. It refused to cooperate.

  He eyed the sword, which had been directed at him more than once, tied to Liam’s belt. At one time, he’d wielded a greatsword himself, but since the “accident”, magic was his only weapon.

  It churned within him, begging to be released.

  He reined it in.

  “I’ll get straight to the point,” Liam said as he turned slowly, a dark glint in his cobalt-green eyes. “Today is an important day. If you so much as step out of line once, I will show no mercy.”

  A harpy guard beside him, Avonia, shifted her unique white wings with a golden shimmer, but otherwise kept her eyes forward and a hand on her sword. She and her husband, Typheal, were good friends of his. They’d had a daughter once named Scarlett, but she had been abducted on her first birthday fourteen years ago. He remembered the panic and absolute terror of the event. Her parents still grieved the loss to this day.

  Calle flexed his injured hand as he nodded half-heartedly. He would die before he let Liam anywhere near Nyana. He hoped it wouldn’t escalate to blows between him and his brother.

  As if appeased, Liam’s smile returned as he scanned the crowd. His gaze stopped on...

  No...

  But the look had been so fleeting, and it could have been anyone in Nyana’s group.

  Uneasiness knocked the breath out of him. He sucked in a gulp of air, wishing to hold onto something to steady himself.

  Liam’s grin grew wide as he spotted someone in the crowd. He jogged down the stone steps to greet them, leaving him with half the harpy warriors while the other half followed. Avonia and Typheal moved to stand on either side of him. Their presence helped calm the storm raging within him.

  “We won’t let him lay a finger on you,” Avonia murmured, her eyes hard. Typheal nodded in agreement.

  “You must.” His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed. Finally, he tore his gaze away from his brother’s back to look at the two people who had been like family for as long as he remembered. “I know something bad is going to happen. I can feel it in my gut. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you two.”

  Typheal answered this time, the natural golden strands in his brown hair glimmering beneath the afternoon rays. “We may be blood bound to both you and the king, but we are loyal to you. Whatever happens...we are with you.”

  He swallowed again, grateful for their undying loyalty.

  He cast another glance in Nyana’s direction. She turned as if feeling his gaze on her and placed her hand against her heart. I love you, the gesture said. He raised a hand to do the same, but someone clamped their fingers around his wrist.

  Pain shot up his arm and through his hand, enough to nearly buckle his knees. He sucked in a breath and barely held in a cry.

  “Come,” Liam said as he tugged him down the steps. “There are several people I want to introduce you to.”

  Pain pulsed through Calle’s wrist with each beat of his heart. The day passed agonizingly slowly as young ladies captured every moment of Liam’s attention. Music and laughter made a mockery of the rainclouds in his soul. On more than one occasion, he nearly grabbed Nyana’s hand and pulled her away from the festivities to the freedom that awaited outside the kingdom. But she was right. They would be hunted. Running was no way to live.

  Afternoon transitioned to dusk. Torches burst to life in the courtyard, illuminating everyone’s animated expressions. Shallow breaths entered Calle’s lungs as he stood at the top of the steps, several feet behind his brother.

  Liam held out his arms, and the entire courtyard quieted to hear his words. “My loyal subjects! I am pleased to have met many new faces today, and rekindled relationships with some old as we celebrate the summer solstice. As is tradition on one’s twenty-first birthday, I am to choose a bride tonight. If you are not picked, do not be discouraged. You might have a chance with Prince Calle next year.”

  The crowd rumbled with excited chatter, even as Liam cast Calle a mocking grin as if he were leftovers and not the main course.

  He clenched his right fist as hard as he could while his left remained limp at his side. He could not do much with his non-dominant hand other than hol
d light objects.

  “Without further ado...” Liam strode down the steps in Nyana’s direction. Dread pounded into him like a relentless rainstorm, at least until his brother glanced over his shoulder and cast him a wicked grin. His blood flooded with a river of ice.

  Liam knew.

  He’d always known.

  Calle dashed down the steps with panic nipping at his heels. He shoved his brother aside right as he reached for Nyana’s hand and stood protectively in front of her with outstretched arms.

  The courtyard fell into a shocked hush as he stared back into Liam’s furious eyes.

  “Touch her,” Calle hissed, not caring who heard him speak, “and I will kill you.”

  It was not an empty threat.

  Nyana’s gentle fingers gripped the back of his shirt, and although he didn’t turn to see her expression, he felt fear emanating from her. He could only imagine what awful things Liam would do to her if they married. He’d beaten a couple women he’d courted, one of them nearly to the brink of death. Nyana’s sweet, tender spirit couldn’t survive a husband like Liam. Likely everyone in the kingdom knew—or at least suspected—Liam was capable of abuse and cruelty. But he was the king. Who could stop him?

  “Step aside,” Liam growled.

  “Never.”

  “I warned you if you stepped out of line, I would show no mercy. Come here, little chit.”

  “No,” she answered in a quivering tone.

  When Liam began to reach out again, Calle hit his hand aside. Foreboding silence echoed around them as everyone watched. Guards stood on the tips of their toes as if ready to jump in at a moment’s notice.

  “You can have anyone you want—just not her,” he begged.

  Nyana’s fingers trembled against his back when anger smoldered hotter in Liam’s eyes. Color climbed his brother’s neck, wounded pride rising with it. Calle’s own hands shook. Whenever he’d hurt Liam’s pride in the past, the next few minutes usually ended in bloodshed.

  “Please,” he begged again. He would have collapsed to his knees and kissed his brother’s feet if it would have made a difference, but he didn’t dare leave Nyana unprotected.