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PROLOGUE
Many stories were told about the lost fae kings. Some whispered that they were godlike warriors of old and wielders of magic and mighty weapons. Most of those stories were true.
Oberon, king of forests, had restored the magic flow to the land of Albion and was working to seed the forests of lost life. Spring was blooming early, and it was because his power saturated the world once more. The land was healing, and now it was time for the seas to be cleansed.
There was no greater mystery than what truly lay in the depths of the sea and all the strange creatures that dwelled in its darkness.
Its master, Mananan, was no exception to this rule.
Mananan, wielder of the magical sword, Fragarach, that could drain an enemy of their strength with one powerful blow and create wounds that would never heal.
Mananan, sailor of the magical ship Sguaba Tuinne that could sail through the veils separating the worlds.
There was no doubt that the king of the seas could achieve all the things the prophecy demanded of him—destroy the altars built by their ancient enemies, the Fomorians, restore the sea's lost plants and creatures, and fix the gateways in the depths that connected Albion back to Faerie. Only once those things were achieved, would magic and life flow through the oceans of both worlds again.
The problem wasn't Mananan's skills and abilities to make all things right. The problem was he had no idea where to start.
1
Lightning flashed above the churning night sea. Under the water, beyond the roiling waves, the darkness was undisturbed.
Blessed silence, Mananan thought as he floated weightlessly. He loved his family, and being reunited with them was a joy he hadn’t thought he would ever experience again.
But gods spare him, they wereloud.
Mananan tightened the grip on his harpoon, his meditative state an illusion. He was hunting, and the best talent a hunter could learn was patience.
He was back on the eastern coast of England, not far from where Chrissy had cleared a cave full of altars to the Fomorians.
Christiana, Oberon's incredible mate, who was bursting with new magic and had a smile that burned as hot as a summer sun.
A mate. At his age. It was obscene.
Mananan still couldn't get over it; he'd been so shocked. He was happy for his elder brother, but underneath the happiness was confusion. They had all thought that they were too old for mates, that the gods had bestowed them with other blessings that didn't include them. Oberon was proof that they had all been wrong.
It was…worrying. Mananan wouldn't get his hopes up about finding his own mate. He refused to. He couldn't deny that when he watched Oberon and Christiana together, he felt a twinge of longing. It was an ache in a part of himself that he hadn’t known he possessed. Herefusedto hope, and yet…
Mananan dismissed all those kinds of thoughts from his head. He didn't have time to search for his mate. He had remnants of horde creatures to kill and his part of the prophecy to fulfil. It was why he was back in the waters of Ravenscar.
He'd searched the area when he had first come back to the place with his brothers a few months ago. He hadn't found Fomorian spells or horde creatures in the waters.
Uncertainty kept drawing him back. He'd missed something. It was hidden, but he felt it. A distortion, a vibration in the water like something was there, but he couldn't see it.
A ripple of dark magic brushed against him, and Mananan’s eyes snapped open. He exploded into action, swimming through the water to follow the trail. He had felt the same darkness when hunting horde creatures off the coast of Wales recently.
His nephew Killian and his mate, Bron, had been right when they said that they couldn't keep up with hunting them because they bred so quickly. Mananan was more than happy to help thin the herds of the infernal creatures. They ruined any ecosystem they lived in and needed to be eradicated.
Help me!
Mananan halted at the strange voice, water swirling around him. Usually, he only heard his brother Taranis's voice telepathically.
What in the gods…Darkness and cold fear that wasn't his own washed over him.
Mananan breached the surface of the water. Through the rain and wild winds, he saw a small lighthouse and wrapped around it was the biggest horde kraken he'd ever seen. It was as if a crab had mated with an octopus, with its main body covered in black shell.
Thick, black tentacles tightened around the lighthouse like they were trying to pull it into the sea.
Mananan swam for it, his magic curling about him. As soon as he got close enough, he released his power, and a funnel of water flung him from the waves. He sailed through the air, his harpoon raised high over his head and landed on the horde creature's outer shell. He drove the tip of the harpoon into one of its eyes, making it screech in fury. Mananan pulled the blade free, dodged a tentacle, and blinded its other eye.
