The Warlord Forever
An immortal warlord. A magical curse. And the woman who sets him free...
Ian Fletcher has grown weary of his unnaturally long life. After being tricked by the Queen of the Faeries into drinking an immortal potion, there is no way to end his suffering. Except for one. A magical curse that can lay him to rest inside a sealed tomb forever.
He just never expected he’d remain awake through the centuries...
Kenna Douglas is an independent, modern day woman, who doesn’t need a man for anything, but deep down she yearns to find her knight in shining armor. As she tries to solve the mystery behind her uncle’s sudden death in Scotland, and unlock the secrets of the ancient tomb he discovered, she is haunted by dreams of a strange man from another time. A warlord who wants her to release him from his dark prison.
But how can she open the warlord’s tomb without releasing the curse? Kenna has to decide what she wants more – to find out what really lies within the tomb, or leave it sealed forever and not know. Either way, her life will never be the same again.
Highlands of Scotland: 1183
“Are you sure of this?”
Ian glanced up at the beautiful Fey hovering over him as he lay inside his stone tomb. Her red hair fell over her shoulders, and her dress was a perfect match to the deep, green shade of her eyes. Ian had never been more sure of anything. He was weary.
“Aye.” He gave a decided nod. “‘Tis the only way I will find peace, Illora.”
He prayed the Fey spell would work, and that he wouldn’t fall victim to another trick of the magical people who inhabited his homeland. Tuatha de’ Danaan. The Fairy Folk. Illora was the only one whom he trusted. It was clear she was in love with him, so why would she have reason to betray him?
“You will lie in motionless slumber until someone reads the inscription on the coffin and awakens you.” The enchanting Fey reminded him of the fate he was about to accept. “Because of your immortality, you could remain entombed forever.”
“Then I shall be blessed for the repose.” He had already considered the consequences of his choice. It was the alternative that frightened him. “Never again will I have to watch all those I love grow old and perish.”
“You don’t have to be alone.” Illora took one of his hands and laid it against her soft cheek “Stay with me,” she pleaded.
“I canna.” Ian brushed his fingers over her smooth skin before pulling his hand away.
Illora was a beautiful, gentle creature,a woman he could happily marry, but he had no place in her world. Nor did he have a place in his own. If the Queen of the Faeries hadn’t given him that damned potion, he might have had a chance at a normal life.
She’d only been giving him what he wanted. She promised the potion would grant him strength and endurance. That it would make him the greatest warrior in all the land. Undefeatable in battle. Only after he’d taken the potion did the Queen tell him he’d been gifted with the immortality of their race.
Four hundred years later, his immortality was hardly a gift. It was a curse. One he wanted to be freed from. Illora had taken pity on him and promised a cure.
Ian would never serve that bitch Queen after she’d so willfully tricked him, and he could no longer allow himself to love a mortal human and suffer the pain of their death, so this was his only choice.
It was the only way he could die.
“Do it now,” he ordered. “I am ready to leave this world.”
Illora closed her eyes, her melodic voice reciting the spell that would lay him to rest. The heavy stone lid fell into place above him, sealing him in darkness. As he felt the world starting to fade away, he drew in one last deep breath, and was comforted in knowing no one else would ever have to bear the endless misery his own life had become.
The remainder of the Queen’s immortal potion was in a whisky flask stuffed inside his boot.