***Content Warning – Mild Swearing***

He sat at the table, the Great Library quiet as always. His mind whirled, the spider web of thoughts and questions becoming more and more tangled. Foremost in those thoughts, however, was her. She was important; she would be vital to the survival of the Fae realm…of Avalon…of the only home he’d known. The one he helped to watch over was the one spoken of in the prophecy. The certainty of that was as powerful as the knowledge of his own name. She was beautiful. She was courageous. She was so very special, young and ancient at the same time…and she was his fated mate.

He cursed silently when her image vividly formed in his mind. His traitorous heart gave a mighty lurch when a sense of longing pierced his soul. How could this have happened? How could he have fallen ass over teakettle in love with a mere slip of a girl, a girl that somehow destiny fated to be forever his?

He had been charged and trained by none other than Calista herself, Goddess of the Fae, to watch over and protect her. When she reached applicable age, he was to be the one to train her, to teach and guide her. He was carefully selected by Calista to be the one to show her how to sharpen and fully understand her magic. This magic would be needed not only by the world of Avalon and other worlds yet to be revealed, but she would need to know how to use it to protect herself, to fight against a dangerous and lethal enemy and other forces that would desire to take her life and extinguish the most beautiful light he had ever beheld. He shivered while fleetingly mulling over the certain catastrophes that would occur if he failed to keep her safe. That was not an option, could never be anything that resembled reality. It was unfathomable to him. He’d done his job…was still doing his job…had so much more to do. He performed the job well and knew he was excellent at it. However, he’d freefallen into uncharted and unexplored territory, and that territory literally scared the breath out of his lungs.

He was a fairy prince but a tarnished one. He had always lived in the moment in terms of his romantic life. He had loved wooing the ladies and took much enjoyment adding up his conquests. Marriage, settling down with one woman, and starting a family had always been farthest from his mind or desires. He was a prince and was duty bound to his world, but when it came to playtime, he was his own man. The thought of clipping his playboy wings was as painful as how it would undoubtedly feel if his physical wings were clipped.

Over the past two-hundred years, he’d had to grow up and control the Casanova side of himself. Two hundred years was a mere eyeroll to a Fae of his age and caliber, that age being a thousand years, give or take a couple centuries. However, there were times when those years crawled by in agonizingly slow motion. After a less than amicable parting of the ways between himself and a powerful noblewoman who’d made the grievous mistake of falling in love with him, his mother raked him over the smoldering hearth and informed him, in no uncertain terms, that he needed to mend his ways or there would be no choice but for her to punish him severely.

This shook him to his very marrow. A great deal of soul searching was in order, and he decided to do that in the human realm. Having been temporarily released from his royal duties, he came to the realization that perhaps helping people, actually serving with compassion and decency, was what he needed to fill the emptiness he hadn’t realized he’d had until then. Although versed in the magical art of healing, he went to medical school and learned how it was done without magic but using science and technology instead. Oh yes, he had vast knowledge of advanced technology but had been more interested in the things that made life more comfortable.

As it turned out, he excelled in this learning and began to use both science and magic together to achieve desired results. He became a legendary healer both in the Supernatural world as well as the mundane one and was called upon to take over cases that seemed hopeless to many other healers.

Although he had an occasional date with a woman he was attracted to, his philandering ways became a thing of the past. Although still displaying an aloofness to most people, he’d made some true friends whereas before, most people coveted his friendship only because of his status and what it might mean for them. He realized that although he’d used women and had been the world’s biggest misogynist, he came to realize that some had been using him to gain a marked raise in status. After all, snagging a fairy prince would certainly elevate one’s station to a much higher and revered one. Although the desire to bed and conquer every beautiful woman he met was no longer a priority, the idea of settling down with someone also remained absent. A fated mate and true love were the farthest things from his mind…until now.

“Fated mate. Bloody hell! Calista help me,” he said aloud, his Scottish burr thick with frustration. What in the name of the Ancients was happening to him?

“Is everything all right, Your Highness?” A beautiful, smiling fairy floated to him, speaking softly. She was Gabriella Kildare, Keeper of the Great Library, mother of Luna Kildare, and grandmother to Grace.

“Fine, Gabriella, thank ye kindly.” He lowered his voice to a whisper, realizing his previous statement carried too much in the peaceful, quiet room. “How fair is your granddaughter?”

The woman’s smile lit her entire face, her eyes shining with love. “Grace is doing very well, Prince Silvan. She remembers you fondly and is grateful to you for saving her life. She has returned to school and is now special friends with your charge, her sister, and their friend. They call themselves The Fearless Four.”

“Aye, I ken that verra well.” He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples as the image of her solidified in his mind’s eye once more.

Gabriella studied him, saw the disturbance and unrest in his aura, and frowned slightly. “What is troubling you, my friend? Perhaps I can help.” She dropped the formalities, replacing it with the concern of the true friend she had become to him.

He shrugged and produced a resigned sigh. “I am not sure. I am not ready for this. Och, it would be grand to delegate this to another. My heart…” He trailed off and shook his head. “She is not the sort I pursued, and she is so young in body but so much wiser than one her age ought to be. When I was charged to watch over her, I did not expect to feel–” He raised a frustrated hand, then let it flop onto the table.

“Ah, the heart and what it feels is truly a mysterious thing, is it not? As to age, physical youth is fleeing. Besides, you might as well face the fact that only a handful have lived as many years as you. Age becomes relative eventually,” Gabriella said, the corners of her mouth turning up in a slight smile. “The heart wants what it wants, and yours will lead you in the true direction you are meant to travel.”

The prince heaved another sigh. “I’d like to see it again. I want to be certain beyond any doubt that she is to be the one.”

“You want to see the prophecy.” She spoke the words as a statement, not a question.

“Aye, Gabriella. The prophecy. I ken they reveal a good deal but often bring up even more questions. I wish to see it again, to try to understand further now that I have been watching over her. I seek to glean more information.”

“Come with me,” Gabriella said, beckoning him to follow her.

Gabriella waved her hands, lighting the candles stationed around the room they entered. She uttered a few words in a tongue not recognized by most, magically sealing the room so they could not be overheard. “Sit down at the crystal ball while I get the tome. Then, we will ask Calista to reveal more and pray that your unrest will be settled.”

The handsome fairy prince complied with his friend’s request, mentally cursing when his mind returned to thoughts of her. If he closed his eyes and concentrated, he could see her in the now. He longed for that, the pull irresistible. For a brief moment, he tried to fight it but the last of his resistance succumbed. Aurora. her name brought forth emotions that were completely foreign to him. The name alone poured into his soul, warming him as sunshine itself never could. His heart betrayed him once again, making him gasp as it trembled with a sensation he could not describe. She was seated at the piano, lost in a world of what was unmistakably a musical version of Romeo & Juliet. Her beautiful, enchanting voice engulfed him as nothing ever had in his entire long, long life. Great Calista, she sounded like an angel, the most beautiful of angels. My angel. She is my angel. That proclamation, although made only inside his mind, squeezed his heart, causing him to groan. Unable to resist where his traitorous heart led, his head dropped to the table with a thump, and all he could do was listen and let sensation after exquisite, tantalizing sensation float him along.

He was brought up short when Gabriella spoke his name. Reluctantly, his mind and heart began to let go of the ethereal vision. It was ironic. He no longer wanted to release what he’d tried fervently to resist in the first place.

“A thousand pardons, lass,” Prince Silvan said, blinking as a feeling of slight vertigo came and then went.

Gabriella just smiled, flipped to a page in the behemoth tome she laid before him, then looked at the crystal ball. Taking a few grounding breaths and willing his wits to return, the prince peered at the page and read.

As the sun sets on the last day of Summer, four shall be born.
Among them, a girl child shall be named for the dawn.
Young in body but strong and wise in spirit, she shall prevail in a war she must fight.
To her aid, a goddess and a prince shall come.
Hearts broken shall mend and flesh shall heal when the song of Aurora draws near.
At the break of day, a metamorphosis shall take shape.
The healer will thus be healed and forevermore made whole.
In that moment, worlds will crumble and others be formed.
Aurora the Singer will then forever be Aurora the Oracle.

As it happened the first time he’d read the prophecy, goosebumps erupted on Prince Silvan’s arms and traveled down his spine. The world around him seemed to tremble for a few seconds. Her voice came to him once more, her wise brown eyes full of love meeting his vivid blue ones. It lasted only a short time yet to Silvan, it seemed to go on for an eternity.

“Show me,” he said shakily once the sensation faded.

Gabriella took one of the prince’s hands and instructed him to put his other on the ball’s surface. She did the same and uttered words in the tongue she’d spoken earlier. When opaque mists began to swirl inside the crystal, the surface grew warm. “Great Goddess Calista, we thank you for your presence with us and beseech your guidance. Please reveal the knowledge Prince Silvan seeks and may he find peace and acceptance with what is destined to transpire.”

Where the opaque mists had been only seconds before, images formed inside the ball.  The round shape started to grow until a large circular window formed. Silvan was powerless to stop the sensation of freefalling, plummeting through the window and into the scene itself. As he blinked, he realized he was now part of what he’d asked to see.

A young woman not fully at her peak moved her hands skillfully over the keys of a grand piano. She looked completely at peace as she sang. He saw and heard everything as though it were happening in that moment. Her beautiful voice filled the room, completely entrancing him, flooding his soul with life and love. It radiated from her and into him. He felt her strong heartbeat as though it were his own.

As quickly as it came, the spell was broken, and images and scenes moved faster and faster.  She was weeping against the shoulder of a muscular blond man Silvan instinctively knew to be her Da. The broken utterances of grief crashed over the handsome prince in wave after wave of unrelenting despair for a much beloved mother who had been savagely ripped from her. He felt her agony as though it were irrevocably etched in his very soul. Oh, dear Calista, how he longed to enfold her in his own arms and take away her pain with all the love his traitorous heart felt for her!

A child version of her was at an easel painting a graveyard scene and singing mournfully. Silvan’s heart twisted as her sadness wound its way into and around him. He would have staggered at the intensity of it if he’d been standing. Och, it was nearly more than he could withstand.

The scene changed once again, and somehow Silvan knew he was seeing into the future. Flash! A horrendous explosion. A roaring ball of fire. Flash! Aurora in a hospital bed…pale, still…lifeless. He saw himself bent over in unspeakable sorrow. Tears ran freely, then he scooped her into his arms. He held her…rocked her…kissed her…wept as his heart shattered into a million pieces. Flash! Aurora asleep in a luxurious comfortable bed…their bed…with him holding her hand. Flash! An infinity of silk and radiance slowly coming down a long aisle toward him. Lovely music. Gasps of awe. Tears of joy. Flash! He stood behind his mate, both of them looking into a mirror. His arms wrapped around her from behind, his hands caressing the mound of her belly where their child rested inside. Flash! Dancing. Lots of music and dancing. She laughed into his eyes when he brought her up out of an elaborate dip. Flash! Her peacefully sleeping, her head resting on his chest as he reclined against a tree in his most special place. Flash! His mate performing onstage while he looked on in adoration, pride, and uncontained, undying love. Flash!

More images and scenes played, shifting faster and faster until the prince thought he would go mad. “Stop!” To his own ears, his voice sounded thunderous, fierce, but he sensed that no sound came past his lips.

The next instant, his eyes squeezed closed, his breathing coming in short, sharp gasps. “What…the…bloody…hell?” He rubbed his head vigorously, trying without much success to dislodge the sensation of being hurled through time and space. His head hurt, and he was horrified to discover that tears flooded his piercing blue eyes and threatened to spill over.

“It was what you asked to see, Prince Silvan,” said Gabriella softly, handing him a glass of clear, icy water. “Drink it slowly. You will feel better shortly.”

Prince Silvan wanted to lay his head down right there and sleep, weariness now covering him like a downy fleece blanket. Och, he wanted to sleep…just sleep. However, afterimages formed on the backs of his eyelids the instant they closed, so he forced them open.

Gabriella gently touched his forehead and murmured soft words in the same ancient language she’d spoken earlier. “Strength and courage be yours, dear prince. Take heart.”

Little by little, he felt himself settle. “I reckon I got what I asked for but have more questions than before. It is not often I am utterly stumped.” The urge to bellow to the sky hammered into him. He wanted to throw back his head and ask why and how. How could he, of all people, have fallen so hard? Why did his heart react this way for a girl he hadn’t even directly talked to yet? How had she become injured, or was it an illness he’d seen? And it had apparently killed her! Dear Calista, would he have to watch her die and then grieve for her? But he was certain the time appeared later when they were about to wed, then when she was carrying a child, his child. She was at her peak, older, when the image of him caressing her baby bump came. It was all muddled together and seemed more and more like a dream as minute by minute passed.

Gabriella’s magic began to calm him. Although the images still played dreamily and repeatedly in his mind, he started to feel more grounded and stronger. “Thank ye kindly, lass. I am beholden.” The corners of his moth turned up in a small smile.

“No thanks needed, Your Grace. It is I who owe you for the life of my beloved granddaughter,” Gabriella replied.

“Ye owe me nothing, dear friend. Grace was not meant for such an ending. Please give her my regards when next ye see her.”

He stood up to leave, then hesitated at the door for a moment to look back at her over his shoulder. He inclined his head when she gave him a little curtsey. He had one more stop to make before beginning the long and winding road that entwined his destiny with that of a young woman with the most beautiful soul and name to match. Aurora. Ye gods, he had it bad! How the blithering hell had be come to this? The handsome but bewildered prince hoped his sister, the daughter of Eros himself, could explain this to him. If anyone could, she certainly could. Perhaps she was his only hope in trying to straighten out his turncoat of a heart and help him make sense of this.

Prince Silvan robotically searched for his sister, Ella, finding her in her living quarters. She smiled tenderly at him over her teacup and beckoned him to the empty chair across from her. “Tea, brother?”

“Aye, thank ye,” Silvan said. “I hope I’m not disturbing your relaxation.”

“Oh, of course not! I’m always happy to see you but I must say, you are the one who does not look happy. What is troubling you?”

Och, she knows me too well, he thought, then shrugged. “Where do I begin?”

“Try at the beginning,” Ella chuckled. “Hey, we’re pals, remember? We always have been and always will be. What is amiss? I want to help if I can.”

Silvan sighed, then wished for a shot of whiskey to put into the tea. Seeming to read his mind, a laughing Ella handed him a golden flask. Silvan uncapped it, took a healthy swig, then poured a sizable amount in his tea. Seeing Ella’s eyes widen, he shrugged.

“Woman troubles?” Ella asked, lighter blue eyes meeting the bold, vivid ones of her brother.

Silvan choked on the mouthful of tea he’d just taken. Covering his mouth to avoid spewing the whole thing over Ella’s pretty table cloth, he coughed and spluttered, eyes watering, and pounded his chest vigorously.

Ella looked down at her own teacup, shook her head sadly. “Oh dear. Aww, Silvan, what has happened?”

Finally under control enough to speak, he cleared his throat and simply said, “The prophecy.”

“Ah, yes. I know that has been on your mind recently.” She softened her voice and reached for his hand. “Is it her, Silvan? I am convinced of it but I realize you were on the fence, unsure if it meant her. You have new information, I can see it in your face.”

“Aye, Ella lass, it is her. I was on the fence because I was trying to convince myself it wasnae her. Aye, she is beautiful, courageous, and och, so very lovely. Alas, I came to realize and finally believed her to be whom the prophecy spoke of–” He stopped and bowed his head. “I have always been my own man, Ella. I am not equipped for a fated mate or to have my destiny so entwined with someone else’s, let alone a young woman I have been watching over since she was but a verra wee lass. I cannae…didnae want to and yet…och, bugger me!”

“You came to know her and fell in love with your charge…your fated mate. Oh, Silvan, it happens that way sometimes. It cannot be avoided. It’s the way of things.” Ella’s beautiful snow white wings fluttered happily, and she gave him a small smile over her teacup.

“I want to take it back. I cannae!”

“You can’t take it back, Silvan. It is written–destined. You can do this, dear Silvan. You can and you will. Your heart–”

“Bugger this treacherous, traitorous heart!”

Ella smiled again, her eyes twinkling this time. “Deep down, Silvan, you don’t want to take it back. If you did, you would go completely out of your mind and ache endlessly, never to feel complete peace. I understand that these are such new feelings for you, dearheart. You never believed it would happen to you, that your life would matter so vitally to someone and that your heart would be stolen by another. You don’t believe this right now, but darling, you have such great capacity for love and so much of it to give. The heart doesn’t lie, and yours will lead you.”

“Bloody traitorous thing,” Silvan grumbled.

“The heart often has a mind of its own. Open yourself to it and don’t fight it. You love her. I can see it plainly in your eyes and your aura.”

Silvan bowed his head into his hands and moaned. “Calista help me, but aye, I do.”

Ella patted his hand. “Admitting it is a big step, Silvan. Now, tell me what else you have learned. You told me earlier today you were visiting the library.”

Silvan relayed everything to his sister about the visit with Gabriella and what he’d seen in the crystal ball. “Some of it brought me such great joy, such that I just couldnae tamp down. Och, but other things…Ella, it nearly broke me. She was dying…or had just died…and the grief nearly crushed me. I…the image of me…held her…rocked her…stroked her hair…kissed her. If I am to love her, and believe me, I do, how could I bear watching her die? To love her and then lose her–”

Ella took her brother’s hand again, squeezing it hard. “You will save her! Whatever comes, Silvan, you will save her. The wedding and pregnancy, Silvan, that is the end result after the storm, I am certain. You will save her…and she will save Avalon and so many other worlds from the danger that is to come. Trust her…trust yourself…trust the love you hold for her and the love she already holds for you.”

“Ella, how can she already have love for me? I have not made myself visible to her yet. She has no idea.” Silvan’s confused and bewildered gaze bore into Ella’s.

“Her heart knows. She feels you with her when you are near. Aurora’s magic is uniquely hers, and it knows who you are and what you mean to her.”

Ella sounded so sure of herself. Hell, that was why he’d come to see her, after all. “What now?”

“It’s time you make yourself known to her, Silvan. Her great need of you is now. She has been waiting for you. Teach her and guide her. Watch over her but most of all, love her. You will know what to do and so will she.”

“All right,” Silvan said resignedly. “I will appear to her after her audition. Och, she will make a beautiful Juliet, indeed.”

“Ah, that she will, dear brother.” Ella squeezed his hand and stood up when he finished his tea. “Have a good sleep tonight, Silvan. Your work begins as does another life for you.”