Exclusive First Look: The Returned Prince by Elle Kish

The Returned Prince by Elle Kish is the second book in the Traveler of Heart series, a romantasy novel about a 36-year-old mom from our world who is transported to the fae realm after a tragic accident. The story follows protagonist Daphne Silver as she navigates newfound magic, dragons, and a Fae king, all while trying to find a way to bring her children to this new world, facing life-altering choices and unexpected twists. It blends contemporary elements with fantasy, featuring fated mates, dragons, and a neurodivergent main character. 

Chapter One

Silas

Home—What I’ve long been searching for, I finally found the second I laid my eyes on her. She’s the world and I’m the moon lucky enough to be caught in her gravitational pull. Each fleeting second spent together deepens the grasp she has on my heart. My lungs fill with her vanilla and honey scent with each breath I take. The warmth she radiates through every aspect of her being brings me incomparable comfort.

Before meeting her, I could’ve died happy, never knowing this feeling; it wouldn’t have made any difference. Now, the thought of not spending every day in this euphoria of magical rightness seems sacrilegious. I’ll spend each moment she’s in her world awaiting her return. She’s given me a reason to live. To think I’ve already almost lost her more than once is enough for me to never want to let her out of my sight again. I want to lock the memories of the past four days up in a cupboard deep in my mind and never visit them again.

Goosebumps rise along her neck as my lips brush against her rain-dampened skin. “Daphne, look at me,” I whisper. Her body stiffens beneath my arms. I tighten my hold around her, making sure she doesn’t lose her balance in Lucy’s saddle. My heart races to catch up to the speed of her now racing pulse. The leisurely speed at which she turns to face me is unbearable. Does she intend to torture me?

Our eyes lock, thick lashes fluttering over her big warm-brown eyes. The sun hits them just right, making them glow like pools of honey. Over the past two weeks, I’ve discovered that in all of Threa, there’s no sight more extraordinary. I’ve explored every landscape and natural wonder this world has to offer, and not one of them comes close to what I see when I look into her eyes. It’s like peering into the windows of the other half of my soul.

Perfect lips curve in a wicked smile that tells me she knows what I’m about to say.

She has to know.

She has to feel this too.

It’s a miracle I didn’t blurt it out the moment we found her, shaking in a dragon’s den, defending herself with nothing but a rock. I’ve lost track of the amount of times since that I’ve almost lost control, almost let the pull win, almost allowed the words to slip from my lips. When we gazed at the stars, when I kissed her after the ball, when I told her the legend of our moons, when she made me try that godforsaken coffee drink, the second she woke up in Ailse’s cabin. A shudder runs through me. I will not lose her. She’s right here, safe in my arms.

If she doesn’t return from her Earth, will it have been worth it to keep it from her? Each time I’ve fought off the urge to tell her, it took all of my strength. I thought it was for the best. If she accepts it before going home, I don’t know if she’d be able to leave. She knows now that I love her. Maybe that’s enough until she returns.

Tell her now—before it’s too late.

Daphne deserves to know the truth. The whole truth. She’s strong and capable of making her own decisions. My voice does not tremble when I speak. “Do you understand what I am saying? What I have known since the moment I found you in that cave Novalora sent me to?”

Her lips part slightly, then her eyes shift over my shoulder, widening in pure terror. She screams, “Silas!”

“Daphne? What is it?” I turn my head over my shoulder, following her gaze. Staring daggers at me through slits in a black head covering are a pair of eyes so hauntingly green I could never forget them. “Oh gods. Ajax!” 

His scent drifts over with the wind. My instincts know it immediately, without any doubt: The male riding Ayldire is Awyatheon. The Returned Prince. Where has he been hiding all this time? How is it possible he’s been hiding for nearly two centuries? If that male is truly him, the others have to be his brother, Prince Sterling, the oracle of Skaans, Cordelia, and their general, Arne.

Our situation is trending from bad to worse. Lucy cries out as they approach us rapidly on the backs of their dragons. What does he want? The primal instinct to protect Daphne from the threat at any cost roars in my chest. What remains of my magic only sputters in response.

I’m too weak.

I’m going to fail her again—before we’ve even gotten a chance at a life together. Before she even knows what we are.

“The shields are up; I don't know how they can see us!” Ajax calls, pulling his bow from his shoulder and reaching for a golden arrow from the quiver on his back. With this much rain and wind, even someone with Ajax’s skill will have a hard time landing a shot. If Awyatheon is controlling this storm, Ajax’s water magic won’t be of use.

“Fuck. Fuck,” I mutter, reaching into my mind, feeling for any singular strand of magic that might remain. Fighting the snow griffin and keeping the airshield around us in the avalanche left me closer to the edge of burnout than I’d ever dared to go. But if I manage to form a tornado in this storm, we may stand a chance. I grasp and grasp at the thread of magic that barely glimmers as I reach. The response is dismal. My magic is still too drained. I drop the air shield and Lucy’s reins to unsheath my sword. If I can’t use magic, I’ll give all of myself to save her. She’s all that matters. She needs to make it home to her children.

Sharp cold water pelts my skin. The heat of the bond’s magic ripples in waves through me. I can’t fail her again. 

We’d be safe back in Dorolan if I had thought with my head and not my heart. I should’ve said no. I should’ve told her we couldn’t outfly the storm… No. I shake my head. That would never have happened. I’d do anything to take away the look of desperation on her face when she couldn’t walk through the mirror back home to her children. 

His storm. 

He’s the one causing this. He’s responsible for all the unusual weather.

How does he keep finding me?

Ajax reads the concern growing across my face as he readies an arrow. We’ve trained for this exact situation for decades, yet now, it doesn’t feel real. Ajax knows what he has to do. In the slight downturn of his mouth, I see his heart breaking all over again. With a solemn nod, he pulls his arm back, firing the golden arrow. It flies with unmatched speed and precision, hitting Arne’s dragon right in the side of her neck. A sickening cry bellows through the air with a crack of thunder. The sky illuminates with lightning as Arne and his dragon fall from the sky. 

“Will that kill her?” Daphne screams. The concern is so genuine, so endearing, my growing love for her nearly makes me forget the imminent danger.

“The dragon? No.” There’s no need to tell her the rider almost certainly will meet his death. You can't cheat it from the same male twice. Ajax’s face is hardened into steely determination, focusing on keeping us alive. Decades of living with turmoil have trained him to mask any sign of the pain I know he must be enduring. 

The storm intensifies with Awyatheon’s growing temper. What does he want? If it’s me he’s after, I’ll give myself over without hesitation if he lets Daphne and Ajax go. At least Daphne. Lucy knows the way back to Dorolan. 

Ajax readies another bow as Cordelia’s dragon sweeps in, hitting Knox’s pegasus with her tail and sending the Traveler’s mirror plummeting from the sky. A heartbroken scream escapes Daphne as she watches the mirror rapidly descend. 

That’s her only chance.

Ajax’s eyes meet mine. As my second, he knows me better than I know myself. Following my train of thought, he knows my command before I even say it. “Ajax, go,” I order.

He’s just as aware there’s no time for an argument he won’t win. The scrunch of his brow is the only protest of disapproval he gives before pressing his body flat against his pegasus and diving.

Awyatheon closes in on us. I have to make a choice, fast.

Anything for her. Even if the sacrifice is myself. It’s better Ajax isn’t here for this. There’s no world in which he’d allow me to go through with what I’m about to do.

“Silas. I’m so sorry,” Daphne shouts over the rain and wind as Awyatheon and Sterling close in on us.

“It’s okay. We’ll be fine,” I reassure her, holding her tightly for the last time. Awyatheon may be ruthless, but there’s nothing he could want from her. 

Apolynea, protect us. Protect her. Keep your granddaughter safe. Guilt gnaws at my stomach for asking two favors of the goddess in such a short time. 

“Silas, I–” she whispers. 

Awyatheon walks the wing of his silver dragon towards us. His magic parts the rain like a curtain as he takes each daunting step closer. Horrible menace burns behind his eyes. The look of someone about to claim vengeance.

Does he blame me for the war our fathers started when we were children? There’s no way a male with a shred of intelligence would believe that. That would be insane. Does he think he’ll be able to get to my father through me? Are my siblings his next targets? 

Unbearable heat pierces through my shoulder. My magic fades away with a single heartbeat and poison courses through me, warming my body. I turn my head, finding a silver arrow sticking out of my back. I was so focused on the threat in front of me, I forgot about the danger that is the older Silver brother. 

The brother left behind. 

Quinn convinced my father he wasn’t a big enough threat to take care of. He must’ve been blinded by the remnants of childhood friendship.

 Tightening my grasp on Daphne, I take one last breath of her. Another heartbeat and my body numbs with sudden emptiness. 

My power. The bond. Everything. 

Gone.

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Chapter Two

Wyatt

Who let the dungeons get this freezing? I wish I remembered how bone chilling it was. I’d have brought a jacket or a cloak. Anything to keep the bitter cold from my skin. 

There’s never been a need for me to come down here. The dungeons haven’t been used since the war ended. Everyone in Skaans City wants to be here. Anyone who didn’t either left or was taken care of long before I came back. When everyone is working toward the same goal, it’s rare for laws to be broken. We haven’t needed to take prisoners—until now.

Darkness hides everything from visibility down here. The only sounds are the occasional drip of water and the thuds and grunts of pain echoing from the cell in front of me. I lean against the stone wall and wait for the captain of the palace guard to update me on the status of his interrogation. He should be done soon. I need him to be done soon. I need to get back to Daphne in case she wakes. 

Metal creeks as Owen opens the cell door. I wish I’d brought a can of WD40 with me. He walks out flustered, irritation growing behind his eyes. He’s been in there all night without a single break. Sweat seeps through his clothes, and his normally kept light brown hair is disheveled. The sleeves of his black uniform are pushed up his forearms. Streaks of dark liquid mark his tan skin. Blood, but not his. “Still nothing, sir.” 

What does he mean, ‘nothing’? He’s the second-best interrogator in the city. Since the first is currently indispensable, it’s my turn. “Guess it’s time I speak to our guest..” I roll my shoulders, straighten my back, and enter the cell. 

Long dark hair spills over the bruised face of the male chained to the dungeon wall, scrapes lancing his chest and arms, dripping with crimson. He looks up at me through bruised, deep blue eyes. Recognition settles in, and a low growl emanates from deep in his chest. He raises a hand to summon magic. I don’t flinch. The cuffs around his wrist prevent him from calling forth even a sprinkle of power. “Now, you already know that won’t work, Ajax.”

He jolts forward, and the chains snap him back to the wall. “What did you do to Silas?”

“Where did you find the female you were traveling with?” Not a day has passed in my time here without thoughts of Daphne and our family ravaging my mind. Despite all my rumination, she’s the last person I expected to show up here. Especially not with them. When he doesn’t answer, I walk up to him, the last two weeks frustration built up in my fist when I strike him in the abdomen. “What were you doing with her?”

Ajax barely flinches at the impact of my knuckles against the muscular wall of his stomach. He spits blood onto the floor. “I’m not telling you.” 

“Fucking tell me what he wanted with her,” I shout, losing my patience. I don’t have time to waste. I need to get back to the tower. If she wakes up and I’m not there— 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says in a way that I might believe if I didn’t know what a traitorous snake the male was.

No more games. I grab him by the collar and pull him down to face me. He’s only a few inches taller than I am, but I want to look him in the eye when I tell him, “Tell me everything you know about her, or I’ll kill you.”

“Kill me then, because I’m not telling you anything.” His nose twitches and he smiles in defiance. I know immediately I’ve made a mistake in my threat. The male is centuries older than I am and was trained by my father to resist this exact kind of torture. We’re going to have to get creative to get the information we need out of him.

I release the fabric of his shirt and shove him against the wall. “We will get you to break. It may not be today or tomorrow. But my guard will be back every single day until you tell us what we want to know.”

I walk out of the cell, turning my head over my shoulder in time to see him let himself sink to the floor. What a shame he ended up on the wrong side of the war. His life could have been so different if he stayed by my father’s side. At least now, he’s where he’s always deserved to be. He catches me watching him and waves dismissively before I close the cell door behind me.

The black tiles of the hallway outside the tower dampen with each step I take as I pace. Up and down. Down and up. How much longer until the damn enchantment wears off? Daphne should be awake by now. Cordelia’s been in there for hours. This time alone with my thoughts has been pure agony.

Having my family at my side when the time comes to take back what’s ours is my dream. But not now. Daphne shouldn’t be here yet. She should be on Earth. Where she’s safe. Where our children are safe. How did she get here? Where are the kids?

Sparks of electricity crackle at my fingertips. The wind I’m struggling to control makes the candlelight dance on the brick walls of the hallway. My magic hasn’t felt this unruly since I first arrived. It took over a year to master all of my elements. As a child, I hadn’t realized power over the storms is simply power over three elements. Electricity was the first I mastered. Then water. Then air.

Both ways of looking at it speak to the power within me. It takes skill and finesse to break the elements down. Combining them creates perfect storms, which demand the most amount of strength to control.

Not knowing how Daphne is or what she’s been doing in this world has driven me completely insane. And to think, I was never supposed to love her. 

When I walked into The Coffee Bean to meet the woman I was tasked with making my wife, I didn’t know I’d find the most beautiful, endearing, and kind soul. She cared and doted on me, treating me like the King I’ll soon be. I fell in love with her and learned to adapt to all of her charming quirks.

It’s funny—love sometimes has a way of deciding for you.

When Cordelia came to me with her visions of a prophecy coming to fruition, that my wife was here, I thought it was too good to be true. Then I realized it was a curse. For me, it’s been five torturous years since I laid eyes on my wife. On Earth, it’s only been a year. That much I’ve managed to piece together based on my Earth age and the amount of time that’s passed on Threa. Even with all those years, it’s too soon. Not soon enough? I haven’t decided which. I’ve longed for Daphne’s company. But if the timing isn’t right, if it’s not safe for her—

I pull back my sleeve, staring indignantly at the band of woven tree branches that wrap around my wrist, inked into my skin: the deal mark left by her father. The pattern is not unlike the frames of the mirrors. Its lingering presence reminds me I’m still under the control of a stupid agreement I made at just 23 years old.

There should be rules against making deals with those centuries, if not millennia, younger. I didn’t have enough experience or knowledge to understand the true consequences of what I was doing. It’s impacted my entire life.

Every day, I wake up regretting it.

This isn’t the way I wanted Daphne to see this world. Bringing her home was supposed to be a heartfelt, magical, and powerful reunion. Not—whatever this is. A kidnapping?

No. She’s my wife. I saved her.

Was I too late? What’s she going to think when she sees me? What lies has she been fed? Two weeks spent in the hands of the enemy is surely enough to form opinions on this world. She was supposed to experience this world with me. Not him. 

Up and down. 

My footsteps echo down the hallway. Gnawing anger cuts through my stomach, and bile rises at the back of my throat when I remember the tangled scents that ambushed my senses that day in the skies. I roll my neck and shoulders in a failed attempt to relax.

Daphne will be relieved to learn I’m alive. She loves me. That’s something I know with certainty. What if it’s been too long? The seed of doubt that sprouted when I realized more than four days had passed, and I wasn’t going home, rears its ugly head. If Whitney followed through on our backup plan, Daphne believes that I’m dead. 

I was only supposed to be gone four days. 

Four days here to figure out everything we needed to know. Then I was supposed to go back to Earth. I would show up in a hospital feigning amnesia. If there was nothing to return to, I’d tell my family I’d gotten out of the car when it caught on fire and walked into the woods until someone found me. If there was any chance of us taking back the continent, we would all return together during the next eclipse. 

But a whole year had passed without a sign from Whitney.

I’d thought we broke the mirror with Whitney’s spell, and that’s why my sister hadn’t come to get me like she was supposed to. Maybe Teddy finally caved and told Daphne the truth and she came searching for me? Doubtful. Teddy’s the reason we’re in this mess in the first place. Why would he be helpful now? When our world needed him and my father most, they left without a trace. How did she end up here?

Down and up. I’m surprised I haven't worn a path in the tile. 

The most difficult part of using the mirror successfully is picturing the place you want to go clearly in your mind as you walk through. I didn’t even land in the palace. I landed in the godsdamn faeball field. There’s no way Daphne just happened to fall through the mirror and land in Carimea. Right? Unless– No. 

Up and down. My feet move just as fast as my mind. 

As it stands, too much magic is being expended concealing Skaans City. Daphne’s presence will make it impossible to stay hidden much longer. I almost didn’t need Cordelia to tell me she was here. The pulse of energy that accompanied her entering this world was like nothing I’d ever felt before. I knew Teddy’s magic was unmatched. But to have passed down so much fae power to a half-human child? That’s unheard of. 

Between her distinct energy and Silas seeing me, the time we have to ready our forces has surely been cut to next to nothing. According to my general and advisor Arne's last calculation, at our current rates, we need at least another year of rebuilding and training to stand any chance at success.

Now we have days, weeks at most, before the continent’s forces reach us. This is our only opportunity to get our kingdom back; we have no choice but to fight. 

We don’t stand a chance.

The two weeks it took to find Daphne could have been spent training, like Arne and Sterling suggested. They didn’t understand. I had to save her. If Silas harmed her, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. 

Thank the gods I brought the thermal imaging binoculars I used for hunting with me to Threa, or who knows how much longer she would’ve been stuck with them.

Down and up. Impatience and anger grow with each step. Water puddles beneath my feet each time my boots hit the ground.

The memory of reuniting with Daphne replays in my mind once again. There she is, I thought. Then I saw his arms holding my wife on the back of his pegasus. Unable to help the low primal growl that had escaped from my chest, I signaled Sterling to enact the plan. Rage filled my entire being when I took a breath to tell her it was me, and I was met with her scent, intertwined with his.

The same growl escapes me now at the memory. I channel the anger outward with a bolt of electricity. It snaps through an open window, the energy shaking the palace as Cordelia walks through the door to Daphne’s tower room.

She cocks her head to the side, staring at me through violet eyes. Her disappointment at my lack of control is evident in her glare. The way she holds both her beauty and threatening presence reminds me of Whitney. Her hips swing as she walks  toward me. “She’s awake. It’s as I told you, sir. Her bond lies with another.” 

Heat from the jealousy courses through me. My nostrils flare. I tighten my fists, holding in my power. Through gritted teeth, I ask, “Is it completed yet? Has she accepted the bond?” 

Her full lips perk in the corners. She doesn’t quite meet my eyes when she tells me, “No.” 

“Good.” I run my hand over my face in relief. Nothing is sealed. If we kill him before the bond is completed, I have nothing to fear. I always knew we’d have to kill the kings of Carimea. I didn’t expect Silas to be the first. Definitely not under these circumstances.“I know her, Cordelia. She’s my wife.”

She folds her hands in front of her. “Prince Awyatheon, if I may?” Cordelia’s the only one who still calls me that on occasion. The name doesn’t feel right. It’s too proper. She clears her throat, waiting for my response. I nod for her to continue.

“You haven’t yet discovered the pull of the mating bond. While not yet accepted, the tether was put into place by the gods. Though my allegiance on Threa is to you, as an oracle, I must remind you it’s best not to interfere with their plans. For all of our sakes.” 

My lips curl in a snarl. “She’s the mother of my children. My wife. I don’t give a gods damn about some mating tether.” An insatiable ache forms in my chest. I would’ve bet all of what remains of the family jewels on the mating tether snapping into place for us. “Once the problem is handled, Daphne will take her place by my side as queen of Skaans City. Once we reconquer our lands, the Queen of Carimea. Tell all of our forces that King Silas is to be killed on sight.”

“Yes, sir.” She pauses, contemplating her next sentence as if receiving input from the gods themselves. “Best make it quick. If Daphne accepts the bond, there’s little anyone can do. Mating bonds rank above all.”

I close my eyes, breathe in once sharply and let it out slowly, trying to prevent my power from bursting out again. Despite my efforts, a growl reverberates through my chest, echoing through the hall with a current of air that extinguishes the flames in the lanterns lining the walls. Mice scurry into the darkness in all directions as my power ripples out.

This changes nothing. She’s mine. There’s not a single other female I will have by my side. Settling for anyone else isn’t an option. Daphne’s the only one deserving of the honor. The gods can try to stop me. There’s not a chance in any realm I’m letting Silas Arany have her. He’s not ruining this for me. 

His family already stole my destiny once. It’s not going to happen again.

“Then make it quick,” I bite. Wet footprints trail across the floor behind me as I walk to the tower door and grab the handle. One by one, the wards open at my touch. Once the thirteenth burst of magic ripples between my palm and the metal, the door opens, and I let myself in.

There, sitting on the edge of the bed, hands digging into the comforter, is Daphne. The sight of her steals my breath away. Her fae form suits her well—elongated limbs, skin smooth and glowing, thick, long brown hair flowing over pointed ears. She’s always been attractive, but now, her beauty can only be described as ethereal. This is the body she’s always been meant for. The round brown eyes I’d memorized decades ago meet mine, shifting from confusion to realization. 

To fear.

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