Copper Veins

Jennifer Allis Provost

© 2016 Jennifer Allis Provost

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the publisher, except in cases of a reviewer quoting brief passages in a review.

This book is a work of fiction. Places, incidents portrayed, and names, while at times based on historical figures, are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual locales, events, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Use of any copyrighted, trademarked, or brand names in this work of fiction does not imply endorsement of that brand.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data available upon request

First Edition: 2016
Jennifer Allis Provost
Copper Veins: a novel / by Jennifer Allis Provost – 1st ed.

p. cm.

Summary:
While Sara is thrilled to have finally married Micah,
her father's disapproval makes her question if she's made a mistake.

Published in the United States by Spencer Hill Press
www.SpencerHillPress.com

Distributed by Midpoint Trade Books
www.midpointtrade.com

ISBN
paperback: 9781633920095
eBook: 9781633920101

Printed in the United States of America

For those who never gave up on love

It's been an interesting few months.

It all started when I cut out during my lunch break and took a nap in my car. I had a dream—the best dream of my life—starring a sexy man with silver hair. That man turned out to be Micah Silverstrand, an elf from the Otherworld. Even though I'd hidden who and what I was for most of my life, Micah had instantly known that I was an Elemental like him. When I was a kid, Elementals and Mundane humans, of Mundanes, existed side by side; not quite in harmony, but we got along well enough. Then, there was a war, and the Mundane army won—ironically, they called themselves Peacekeepers. No matter what they called themselves, the Elementals still lost, and magic was declared illegal.

For me, the wars were much more personal since my father, Baudoin Corbeau, went missing and was presumed dead. A few years later, my older brother, Max, was arrested for using magic and shipped off to a detention facility. Micah helped me rescue him, and along the way we learned that my younger sister, Sadie, was the Inheritor of Metal, the most powerful metal Elemental in existence. That was a shocker. We also discovered that the Elemental ruler, the Iron Queen, was in with the Peacekeepers. Together, Micah, my family, and I defeated the Iron Queen and put a serious dent in the Peacekeepers' operation, so that was good.

I also learned that my best friend, Juliana, was a Peacekeeper. That was not so good.

After the Iron Queen's defeat, the Gold Queen was restored to power. Since the Corbeaus were fugitives, my family and I moved into Micah's home in the Otherworld full time, which meant that poor Micah went from living by himself to having a house full of in-laws in the blink of an eye. Meanwhile, Max was hell bent on finding out what had happened to Dad. While he traipsed all over the Otherworld causing trouble, the Gold Queen held a grand event where everyone pledged a blood oath to her… everyone except Sadie. It wasn't her fault, really—she just thought the blood was gross.

While Micah tried convincing the Gold Queen that the Inheritor wasn't plotting against her, Max's
schemes to find Dad led us to the Goblin Market. We didn't find Dad, but we did have a near fatal runin with one of the Gold Queen's henchmen. Micah almost died. I have never been so scared in my entire life as when I thought I'd lose him.

But Micah lived, and after a few weeks, he fully recovered. We celebrated by getting married, and instead of Dad, Max walked me down the aisle. Then, in the strangest turn of events yet, Dad walked right up to our front door.

And here's what happened next.

I couldn't believe it.

He'd been gone for sixteen long, frustrating years. We'd searched everywhere for him, from the Mundane realm to the Otherworld's Goblin Market. And after all of that, my father, Baudoin Corbeau, just walked up to the front door of the Silverstrand manor and swept me into his arms. It was a tad anticlimactic, but you know what? I decided I'd take it.

“You're here. You're really here,” I said, my voice muffled by his shoulder. He haden't shaved, and his grown-in whiskers scraped my ear, just like they had the day he'd left for war.

“Of course I'm here,” Dad murmured. “I promised I'd come back to you, just as soon as it was safe. I'm sorry it took me so long.” We hugged for another
moment, then he added, “I heard tell that you were all here, at the Silverstrand manor, but I hardly believed it was true. I never thought I'd be reunited with my family, in the Otherworld.”

I drew back at that, since he had a point. Dad probably thought that we'd abandoned the Raven Compound and a thousand-odd years of family history to live an easy life here in the Otherworld. Before I could explain that the old cellar—along with all the Corbeau artifacts it housed—was now firmly attached to the manor, Dad's eyes alighted on his eldest child.

“Maximilien,” Dad said with a nod. “Do you remember what I said to you before I left?”

“Keep them safe,” Max whispered, his face bloodless. “Do whatever needs to be done, but keep your mother and sisters safe until I return.”

Dad nodded again and reached out to shake Max's hand. “Well done, son,” Dad said, pulling Max into his arms. “Well done.”

While Max and Dad embraced, I looked toward Sadie and Mom. Sadie was staring at Dad, wide-eyed and trembling—she'd been so young when Dad had left, I wondered if she had any real memories of him. Mom, on the other hand, was wide-eyed with a different emotion.

“Can't be,” she said, shaking her head. “It just can't be.”

Dad heard Mom's voice and abruptly released Max.
“Maeve,” he murmured, taking her hands. “Maeve.” Then they were in each other's arms, the rest of the world promptly forgotten. I should have turned away and let them have their own, private moment, but I couldn't. I'd wanted this for so long.

Micah stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, and I leaned back against his warmth. “I think this might be the best day of my life,” I whispered.

“It is already the best day of mine,” Micah murmured, kissing my hair.

“And where the bloody hell have you been?” Mom demanded. She shoved Dad away from her, then cupped his face in her hands, her eyes scanning his features as if to memorize them. “Max has told us of your clandestine meetings.”

“Forgive me my subterfuge,” Dad said. “There were… complications.”

“We thought you were dead,” Mom choked out.

“I may as well have been, without you.”

Mom's eyes softened, and she was in his arms again. Dad had always known the right thing to say—in fact, he was the only one who could disarm Mom with just a few words. They whispered a few endearments to each other, then Mom drew Dad toward the youngest Corbeau.

“Beau, you remember our baby?” Mom asked.

“Sadie?” Dad's eyes lit up. “My little girl, so big. So very, very big.” He folded Sadie into his arms,
murmuring over and over that he was so sorry for missing so much of our lives, for being unable to return sooner.

“But we are all together again,” he said at last, turning so one arm was around Sadie's shoulders, the other encircling Mom's waist. “All the Corbeaus are together again.”

“I'm not a Corbeau anymore,” I blurted out. It was so new it still felt a little foreign saying it. “I'm a Silverstrand now. Dad, this is Micah, my husband.”

Dad's brows furrowed, then he looked at Micah for the first time. Only my father could waltz into the Lord of Silver's home and make it his own. “You're married?” Dad asked. “To…him?”

Micah stiffened but remained silent.

“Yeah. We got married earlier today,” I replied. I grasped Micah's left hand and showed Dad our rings. Mine was a twining silver vine crowned with a deep green emerald, while Micah's was a copper oak leaf. We'd made them ourselves right before we left for our wedding. “Max walked me down the aisle.”

Dad stared at our hands for a while, the creases in his forehead deepening when he noticed the silver mark that coiled around my wrist. It was a parting gift from a desperate attempt to save Micah's life—we'd been attacked by Farthing Greymalkin, or Old Stoney, and Micah had used up all of his silver to stop the crazed earth Elemental. Micah had managed to kill him, but he'd nearly died in the process. In fact,
when I found Micah buried under stone and ash, he was so cold and unresponsive that I'd thought the worst. Desperate, I'd called for the silverkin, hoping beyond hope that they would know how to help him.

Help had come in the form of the crone from the apothecary, who had informed me that, unless Micah's silver was restored, he would not be able to heal himself. As ridiculous as that sounded, a similar tactic had been used to restore the Gold Queen after she had been freed from the Iron Court's oubliette. Not having any other options, the silverkin had shaped themselves into a metal cave—no, cave isn't the right term. It was tiny and airless and more like a metal straightjacket than a cave. But they'd formed it, and effectively buried Micah and me alive.

I'd stayed with Micah throughout the whole ordeal. And I would do it all again.

I also swore to the crone that I would owe her anything in exchange for the information on how to save Micah. Remember that old adage about not owing the fae? Take that to the nth degree when in the Otherworld.

I still hadn't told Micah about my debt to the crone. It was a good thing Dad had finally returned to us—I had a feeling that I would need all the help I could get when she came to collect.

At my insistence, the silverkin had encased Micah and me in the living metal. My last-ditch effort to save Micah's life had worked, and I'd ended up with
a silver mark spiraling around my left wrist. Micah bore a matching copper mark on his right wrist. That's right—we had built-in wedding rings (beat that, Tiffany's) that nicely complemented the ones we wore on our fingers.

Dad stared at our hands—and my new silver mark—for so long that he made me nervous. Weren't parents supposed to be happy when their children found who they wanted to share their lives with? Eventually, he said, “I wish I could have walked you myself.”

“Dad, it's not like—”

“I know,” he said, waving my words away. “It's just a dream a father has.” He straightened and looked Micah in the eye. “You are the Lord of Silver, then?”

“I am he,” Micah acknowledged. “I give you my word that I will take excellent care of your daughter.”

“See that you do.” Dad smiled, and I felt Micah relax. I hadn't realized how much my father's approval would mean to him—probably because I hadn't had a father for so long—but at least Micah had gotten it. Sort of.