Rafael's Misfortune, page 1
part #1 of Celtic Immortals Series
RAFAEL’S MISFORTUNE
BOOK TWO
CELTIC IMMORTALS
HEIDI VANLANDINGHAM
SHADOWHEART PRESS
Rafael’s Misfortune is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Rafael’s Misfortune: © 2025 by Heidi Vanlandingham
Contact: Heidi@heidivanlandingham.com
Cover design © EDHGraphics
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, including AI, or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
ALSO BY HEIDI VANLANDINGHAM
IN READING ORDER
Western Trails
Trail of Hope
Trail of Courage
Trail of Secrets
Trail of Acceptance: Mia’s Misfits
Trail of Redemption
American Mail-Order Bride series &
Prequel to Mail-Order Brides of the Southwest
Lucie: Bride of Tennessee
Mail-Order Brides of the Southwest
The Gambler’s Mail-Order Bride
The Bookseller’s Mail-Order Bride
The Marshal’s Mail-Order Bride
The Woodworker’s Mail-Order Bride
The Gunslinger’s Mail-Order Bride
The Agent’s Mail-Order Bride
WWII
Heart of the Soldier
Flight of the Night Witches
Night Witch Reborn: Natalya
The Peacemaker: Aleksandra
The Warrior Queen: Raisa
The Last Night Witch: Lilyann
Kingdom of the Elf Lords
Return of the Elf Lord
Curse of the Elf Lord
Revenge of the Elf Lord
Of Mystics and Mayhem
In Mage We Trust
Saved By the Spell
The Curse That Binds
Celtic Immortals
Torin’s Sacrifice
Rafael’s Misfortune
Box Sets Available
Mail-Order Brides of the Southwest: 3-Book collection
Mistletoe Kisses: 4-Novella Collection
Western Trails: 2-book collection
If you love romantic fantasy, sign up for my reader list, and as a thank you, I will send you my exclusive prequel novella:
No Place Like Hell
Of Mystics and Mayhem series
A demon mage looking for answers. An Erinys protecting her child. A rogue ruining everything.
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CONTENTS
About the Book
Glossary Terms
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Night Witch Reborn, Natalya
Return of the Elf Lord
In Mage We Trust
Newsletter Signup
Also by Heidi Vanlandingham
About the Author
ABOUT THE BOOK
Rafael Cavallero escaped the Dark Fae’s experiments, but the scars run deeper than flesh. While his fellow Immortals remain cursed, he hides the truth—he can shift between man and beast, a secret that could destroy him. But when fate throws him into the path of a defiant woman, silence is no longer an option.
Morgan DuBois has never backed down from a fight. With her family threatened by a deadly curse and her unborn niece and nephew at risk, she refuses to cower. But mastering her untapped magic means placing her faith in Rafael, a man who guards his past like a fortress.
Two warriors, one fragile alliance. If they can’t learn to trust, the Dark Fae will strike again—and this time, no one will survive.
GLOSSARY TERMS
Celtic Pantheon: Also known as the Tuatha Dé Danann (pronounced too-ah dey dah-nuhn) and worshiped by the ancient Celts across Europe as well as England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland and even into ancient Gaul, which included parts of modern-day France, Belgium, Luxembourg, and parts of Germany, Switzerland, the Netherlands, and Northern Italy.
Dagda (pronounced Dah gduh): Chief of the Tuatha Dé Danann. He was also the god of life and death, seasons, agriculture, fertility, magic, and druidry.
Tuatha Dé Danann’s Treasured Objects: While there are many objects in the Celtic pantheon, there are four most powerful: the Lia Fáil, also known as the Stone of Destiny and ordains the true High King, the Claidheamh Soluis, also known as the Sword of Light and is a weapon of enlightenment that can cut through ignorance, the Gáe Assail or the Spear of Lugh, which always hits its target and returns to the wielder’s hand. So powerful it must be stored in water, and the fourth is the Cauldron of Dagda, is a magical cauldron that symbolizes generosity, abundance, and hospitality. It's also known as the coire ansic, which means "the un-dry cauldron because the food it provides never run out and restores the strength and energy of those who eat it. Has restorative power, such as healing.
Morrigan (pronounced Mor-REE-gun): She is the Celtic goddess of death, destiny, and battle. Known as the triple goddess, along with her sisters Nemain (creates the frenzy of war and the thirst for blood) and Macha (associated with the land and the reason for war. She creates the thirst and vengeance in every warrior’s heart).
Arawn (pronounced ah-rown, the second syllable is like ‘clown’ in English): The Celtic God of Death and often symbolizes war, revenge, terror, and hunting.
Beast of Gévaudan: Reported to have killed more than 100 people in Gévaudan, France during the mid 1700s. Reports state the animal was like a wolf yet not, and scholars have suggested it may not be a wolf at all. There were so many attacks, it is believed there may have been more than one creature. Émilien is the source of this creature, cursed by Fer-Diorich to live in the body of a large wolf to become the father of all the cursed wolves.
Fer-Diorich: A Dark Fae of the Celtic pantheon and sentenced for past crimes to live out the rest of his life in the Unseelie court, little more than a Celtic prison. Using magic, experimented on different species until he discovered the perfect formula for a half-man, half-wolf soldier.
Ceridwen (pronounced keh·ruh·dwn): She is the goddess of rebirth, transformation, and inspiration and can inspire knowledge and beauty in others. She is a caring goddess but can also become a destroyer when called upon.
Cernunnos (pronounced sr·nuh·nowz): A Celtic god of nature, fertility, and animals, often depicted as a horned figure with stag antlers. He is the lord of wild things and is associated with flora and fauna.
Seelie & Unseelie Courts: The Fae are separated into a light court (Seelie), which is ruled by Queen Tatania and a dark court (Unseelie), which is ruled by her husband King Oberon. While they love each other and are mated, they are also complete opposites and can never be together.
Draugar (singular: draugr and pronounced drawger): The undead of the Norse pantheon, living a cursed afterlife, neither dead nor living and no one knows why or who cursed them. Some were evil and doomed by their own malevolent deeds or by a necromancer, but most were decent beings and have no idea why they were cursed.
Midgard: One of the Nine Worlds in Norse beliefs and known as Earth.
Norse Pantheon: Made up of two clans: the Aesir who are considered the main gods and goddesses and live in Asgard while the Vanir are the fertility gods and goddesses and live in Vanaheimr.
Freyja: Often confused with Frigg, Óðinn’s wife, but no one knows if she is married or not (My romantic brain says she’s not and should have her own story). Practices seidr, or Norse magic, and has a fondness for love, fertility, and beauty.
Idunn (Pronounced “IH-dune”): The goddess of immortality and grows a special fruit that sustains the gods’ and goddesses’ immortality.
Heimdall (Pronounced “HAME-doll”): Guardian of the gods’ stronghold, Asgard and lives in the fortress (Sky Cliffs) that sits at the top of the Bifröst.
PROLOGUE
Morgan sat back, listening to everyone’s questions and her sister’s responses. She was glad her sister had finally told Torin about the baby. She watched him hover over Gwyn, refilling her cup with water and covering her legs with a small blanket. In fact, he never left her side. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. He would drive me crazy!
She heard a low chuckle and glanced around, but no one was near her. She walked over to the side table where Fáelán had left the wine bottle and paused in front of it, wondering if the immortal werewolf researcher-slash-librarian had any more wine. She looked around. No one had even noticed her. Maybe she could just take the bottle and get really, really drunk.
She was tired and worried about what would happen during Beltaine. If she was going to be truthful with herself, she was terrified. Fáelán seemed confident in their plan, but she couldn’t shake her worries. Her grandmother was the psychotic goddess of war for gods’ sake, yet even she couldn’t break the curse against her family. She looked at the wine bottle and then back at her empty goblet again.
“Would you like some more, my dear?”
Morgan jumped, her hand splayed across her chest. She scowled at Fáelán’s wolven features, his black lips pulled back in a wolfy grin as he stood beside her. For a canine, he was quite handsome.
She would give the Dark Fae that much; he knew how to create a new and incredible species. Each wolf stood over a head taller than her, at least six feet, and a couple were closer to six and a half feet tall. Their fur was a variety of shades from Makari’s black, Torin’s dark brown, to Fáelán’s dark gray coat. It was Rafael’s pure white fur that drew her interest. He was magnificent.
“I don’t know if I should. I’m afraid if I started, I wouldn’t stop.”
“Nonsense. You are more than welcome to drink as much as you like. However, I should warn you that it is potent. Two hundred years potent.” He chuckled.
“Two hundred! Just how old are you?” She closed her eyes and held up her hand. “No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.” Again, she heard a low chuckle, which seemed only inside her head since no one else noticed.
She casually glanced around. Someone here had a sick sense of humor, trying to scare her with the current threat surrounding her and her sister. She watched everyone, noting their movements, glances, or strange expressions, but she didn’t see anything unusual.
With her head lowered, taking tiny sips of wine, she stared across the room at Rafael, who was still a stranger to her. Everyone else had welcomed her and Gwyn, talked with them, and occasionally checked up on them. But not Rafael.
After grabbing her and scaring her to death when she’d first arrived, he’d kept his distance and hadn’t spoken to either one of them, except maybe one or two words here and there. She knew he and Makari had been searching for Fáelán’s brother, but at least Makari still tried to be somewhat social, which was noticeably awkward for him.
Who are you? She stared at his silvery white fur, the coat completely unmarred by any other color. He was a stunning wolf. She would have thought he was an angel—if he didn’t have fur or a long muzzle. Or a pirate. The silver dangle in his ear was unique but a nice touch. She wondered what the silver bracelets around his ankles and wrists were for.
No, mi amor. I am not the angel type.
So, you can talk… Hey! I didn’t invite you into my head.
Then don’t think so loud.
She scowled at him. I didn’t know I was screaming my thoughts. Why have you been so antisocial?
From across the room, his silver eyes met hers, but no other emotion registered on his face. I do not even socialize with my brothers. It is better that way. Being around others is…uncomfortable.
I’m sorry. Gwyn and I have rescued a few wolves who have that same problem.
I am not a regular wolf.
You can say that again. You walk upright and talk telepathically. So, not normal.
Turning his head so she saw his aristocratic profile, he gave her a slight nod and then left the room without another word. She stared at the open doorway, wondering where he’d gone. Had she said something to offend him?
She placed her empty cup on the side table and leaned against the wall. Crossing her arms, she stared out into the cavern. The pale lichen lights outlined the still pool of water, mirroring the stalactites hanging above, but her thoughts remained on a mystery named Rafael.
1
Forest near castle ruins, Tournai, Belgium
May 1
The dark outline of a crouched figure lurked beneath the heavy branches of a giant fir tree at the base of the hill where Rafael had run up and over. Morgan Dubois stepped back, ignoring the white wolf’s demand that she follow him, carefully avoiding anything that would give her position away, and edged around the tree next to her.
Where the dark figure waited, the branches spread out around him, and all she could make out was its great size. How was she going to defeat something that massive? His paw alone could squash her like an ant.
Squinting, she noticed a fuzzy darkness encompassing him, different from the surrounding forest. It seemed to move like a storm cloud. She blinked, and the haze covering the area briefly dissipated.
For a moment, she saw what looked like the dark maw of a cave behind the creature. She couldn’t be sure, though, as the dim evening light settled over everything, and the fuzziness returned, obscuring the beast.
A freezing brush of wind moved over her, raising the hairs on her body. A ball of knots formed inside her stomach. She was being tracked. Every sense on alert, she crouched, listening to the forest’s silence.
A few feet to her left, a leaf crinkled. Straining her ears, she heard the slight brush of fur against the trunk of a tree. Whatever was hunting her was drawing close. Too close. A second later, her instincts were rewarded when a small twig snapped.
Lowering her body to the ground, she silently moved on her hands and knees, reaching the next tree. Making her way around the sizeable prickly bush at its base, she caught the unmistakable stench of sulfur. Nostrils burning, she glanced around but saw nothing. She was in trouble. Out here in the open, she couldn’t defend herself against one werewolf, much less two or three.
She studied the landscape, her brain moving from one scenario to the next, but none worked. She had no vantage point and, with the men fighting to get her sister back, no help. A low growl sounded behind her, and she turned to find four of the largest werewolves she had ever seen staring at her.
“I’m dead,” she whispered.
Carefully, she maneuvered herself around and kept her body crouched down, her hand near the knife tucked into her boot. Four sets of red eyes followed her every movement. In precision, they encircled her, each strategically placed step screaming military training.
Her heart stuttered and then began to race. At one time, these beasts had been soldiers. She would not come out on the winning side if she had to fight them. Her only hope was to trick them, and thanks to her mother’s and, ultimately, her grandmother’s training, she might make it out of this alive. Or, at least until Rafael realized she wasn’t with him or the other Immortals. She only hoped he was as observant as she thought him to be and he would turn around.
The beasts advanced, the largest one close enough to reach out and touch her. Sliding her palm around the hilt of her blade, she threw out her arm, and the small silver blade penetrated his heart.
Surprise registered on his ugly face, but before he uttered a sound, he crashed like a fallen tree. The other three held their ground as if nothing had happened, moving together to close the space and staring at her as if she was their next meal.
