In a forest where axes are forbidden and magic runs deep, a cunning fae princess is sent to seduce and betray the mortal lumberjack destroying her kingdom, but when his genuine love awakens something she never expected, she must choose between saving him or condemning them both to her mother’s wrath.
The forest stood ancient and vast, a kingdom of emerald shadows and whispering leaves. Within its depths, unseen eyes watched as an intruder set his axe to the roots of their world. The sound of steel biting into wood sent tremors through the earth, the cries of fallen trees echoing like mournful wails.
Lorien, daughter of the Forest Fae Queen, observed from the veil of shadows, her violet eyes narrowing. She was as much a part of the woods as the twisted roots and gnarled branches that concealed her form. Her mother had sent her on a mission—a mission to bewitch and deceive, to lead the man astray until he fell into their grasp.
The Queen’s voice still lingered in her mind, a melody of silk and poison. “Go, my child. Make him yours. Make him love you. And when his heart is in your hands, bring him to me. He will pay for what he has done.”
Lorien stepped forward, her bare feet gliding over moss and stone as she let herself be seen. A soft golden light shimmered around her, catching the lumberjack’s eye as he paused in his destruction.
Erickson had never believed in fairy tales. The proud son of a carpenter, he believed in the weight of an axe in his hands, in the sweat on his brow, in the honest work of felling trees to provide for his village. But when he saw her, everything he thought he knew unraveled like a dream fading at dawn.
She was unlike any woman he had ever seen—tall and willowy, her dark hair tumbling down her back like woven night. Her skin shimmered indigo like a moonlit river, and her eyes—deep and knowing—held him captive. He was enchanted in an instant, his breath stolen from his chest.
Lorien danced between the trees, leading him deeper into the heart of the forest. Erickson followed without thought, compelled by a force greater than reason. He had to see her again, had to touch the creature who had woven herself into his soul with a single glance.
Through thickets and glades, she lured him, her laughter floating through the air like the song of the wind. And all the while, her heart warred within her. This was a trap. He was meant to follow her to his death. But as she turned to see the wonder in his eyes, the way he looked at the trees not with greed, but with awe, doubt took root within her.
“Who are you?” he asked at last, breathless from the chase.
She should have lied. She should have sealed his fate. But something in his voice—a softness, an earnestness—stayed her tongue.
“I am Lorien,” she whispered. “Princess of the Forest.”
Erickson swallowed deep. He had heard tales of the great Fae Queen, of her wrath, of the way men who ventured too deep into the woods never returned. And yet, as he looked upon Lorien, he could not believe she was meant for cruelty.
“You should not be here,” she said, her voice strained. “You must leave.”
He reached for her, and though she knew she should pull away, she did not. His touch was warm, real, grounding her in a way she had never known. The forest had always been her home, but never had she felt more alive than in this moment, standing before him.
It was then she realized the truth: she could not lead him to his doom. She would not.
But the Queen was watching. And the forest had no mercy for traitors.
Forbidden romance with a little bite of spice 