What’s the worst thing about being a water demon? You can’t tell your husbands apart. Of course, it doesn’t help when your newest mate-to-be disguises himself as his brother to win your hand.
Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres/Themes: Gay, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy, Multiple Partners
Length: 76 pages
Prince Felimid wants nothing more than to have a kelpie in his family so that his own race will have some stronger blood to mix in and have a hope of keeping water demons from dying out altogether.
What he gets is a shy, sneaky, and virginal kelpie whose seed has yet to be proven. Initially furious that he’s been tricked, Felimid can’t deny the courageous and lusty husband he’s accidentally won.
Publisher’s Note: The Three Brothers Fair 1 series is part of Emily Carrington’s SearchLight Multi-Verse.
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Comfortable in the high-backed armchair, Hans watched his brothers.
“The hair dye won’t stay for more than a few hours.” Tian grimaced at his reflection. “Andy, what the hell’m I supposed to do?”
Andy didn’t look away from the book on his desk. “You could start by not croaking like a new-hatched chick.”
The armchair was positioned in a corner, well out of the way of the teasing and annoyance that always flew between Tian and Andrew Weinberg. With a mug to warm his hands, Hans smirked. He loved listening to his brothers bicker without true heat.
Tian stalked over to the desk and gave one of its legs a hard kick.
The book jumped, but Andy didn’t react.
“What’m I gonna do?” Tian’s voice rose. “He’s a hideous, self-centered water demon.”
“Is there any other kind?” Hans asked, his voice barely audible to his own ears. Although he thought Prince Felimid mac Lugh rather attractive for a water demon. Yes, his skin tended to resemble that of an eczema sufferer when he walked in air-breather form, but his grace when he swam… Hans drank deeply of his tea in an effort to hide the flush of his cheeks with the liquid’s heat. In an effort to distract himself, he considered the archaic form of the prince’s last name. Mac meant “son of.” And lugh was some sort of sea god. The space between both names wasn’t common anymore, but from what Hans knew, the mac Lughs were a highly traditional people.
Tian stomped back to the mirror and whined, “Andrew, help me.”
“You’re pathetic.” But Andy got up from his desk at last and crossed to Tian. “You know our bodies don’t hold human chemicals well. Why did you waste time trying?”
Hans watched as Andy flicked a hand through Tian’s hair. Gray dye flaked off into the air and dropped to the carpet.
“Were you thinking to pretend you’re an ancient mortal?” Andy raked his fingers over the part in Tian’s chestnut mass. “The prince — or at least his parents — know we’re triplets. The moment Hans and I walk into the room, your secret will be out.”
Color blazed high in Tian’s cheeks, but his voice carried less prissy outrage and more fear. “I wanted to make myself unattractive to him. I’m too young to be married off this way.”
“Too young by whose standards? We’ve been eighteen for almost six months. Most of our cousins were married within a moon cycle once they reached their eighteenth year.” In spite of his pitiless words, Andy put an arm around Tian’s shoulders. “You’re attracted to males in general, if not this specific prince, and that’s more than many an intended bride or groom can claim.” He lowered his voice. “And you’re no stranger to sex.”
Assured that he was still being ignored, Hans grinned. Tian was the second of their trio to be born. He’d always played the part of middle child even though he’d broken shell a scant three minutes after Andy. Tian went on the adventures, got into more trouble than Andy and Hans together, and was able to maintain an erection many months before his nest siblings. Of course he’d gotten laid first. Andy often played the role of older brother. He had also enjoyed a coupling or two, although he’d waited until he turned eighteen.
Hans pressed his lips together when Tian spun to bury his head against Andy’s shoulder. That leaves me to play the virginal shadow. It was either that or act the part of the weak but intensely intelligent youngest one. He wasn’t quite fit for that. Not when he enjoyed swimming and diving so much but couldn’t manage to learn more than one language besides his own.
“Shh, shh, it will be all right.” Andy rubbed Tian’s back. “He’s a good match for you: brave, strong, and playful. I’ve heard –”
Tian shoved his way out of Andy’s arms. “You go marry him if you’re so convinced he’s wonderful.” He went to the desk and kicked its leg again. “I want a chance to pick my own ball and chain. We’re immortal, Andy. Hasn’t it occurred to you that I’ll be trapped in this marriage for the rest of my life? A thousand years from now, I’ll be stuck with someone I’ve never — could never — want.”
“I’ll take your place.” Tian and Andy whirled toward him, and only then did Hans realize he’d spoken loud enough for them to hear. Blushing under their regard, he refused to back down. He’d always been told the sons of Lord Cuirm and Lady Weinberg must say what they meant and mean what they said. So he raised his chin and balanced his mug on one knee. “I find Prince Felimid attractive.”
Tian’s expression, startled at first, morphed into one of amusement. “Hans, I love you. You’re a selfless li’l thing with a tragic heroine’s heart.”
“Don’t call me li’l thing.” But he couldn’t put any heat behind his voice. Andy and Tian were the warriors; he was only the shadow.
Andy sighed and returned to his desk. “It’s a kind gesture, Hans-a-la, but Tian can’t accept.”
“Why not?” Now Tian’s attention was back on Andy. “Not that I would put our li’l thing” — he smirked over his shoulder at Hans –”in such a position, but I’d like to know why you think you can speak for me.”
“I speak for you because Father and Mother aren’t here. And because, after them, I’m the keeper of our family’s traditions.”
“You mean you’re the only one self-important enough to want to keep them.”
Hans got up, setting his mug silently under the armchair. While Tian and Andy glared at each other, he escaped the room. Neither of his brothers said anything to him. Soon he was halfway to his favorite balcony.
Loch Erie — what the humans called Lake Erie in their newspapers — was considered to have mostly deserted shores where it bordered with New York State. But the glamour that kept kelpies like Hans and his family disguised from the nonmagical world also made their home invisible. It wasn’t a castle, but Hans had never cared for his cousins’ grand, impersonal homes. He liked the relatively small dwelling that allowed him to jump from the second-story balcony into the water below. There was just enough time between leap and splash for him to change from his mostly human aspect to his true shape.
He opened the balcony door, prepared to sprint to the railing and vault it. But he froze with his hand still on the doorknob. Someone sat on the low stone railing Hans often thought of as his. It’s him. Prince Felimid. The auburn-haired man in the leather kilt sat with his back to the loch. His face was broad and a little homely by popular standards, and the reddish, almost pebbly look of his skin in human form would be taken as unattractive by most. But his hair and eyes were beautiful, and his posture bespoke royalty.
“Hello?” Hans asked in clumsy, memorized Gaelic. He gave up and switched to English. “Are you Prince Felimid mac Lugh?” Gaelic was not his second language. He’d chosen to study Scots, best known as English’s second cousin once removed. It was his people’s tongue.
He was rewarded with English. “I am.” The prince smiled a little. Gestured for Hans to join him. “Sit for a moment. I’m sure the master won’t mind.”
You consider me a slave? It followed that Felimid didn’t know what Hans and his brothers looked like. Repressing a grin, Hans approached and bowed. “Thank you, Majesty.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Emily Carrington has been writing m/m erotic romance (specializing in urban fantasy) since 2010. She is currently branching out into the other letters of the LGBTQ rainbow. She lives in Maryland with her guide dog.