by Ann Denton
His thrusts grew rougher and I lifted my ass from the ground, planting my feet. That made his cock slide deliciously over my insides, rubbing the perfect spot. He rutted me harder, gasping.
The cottage around us vanished and the trees returned. But I hardly saw them. I was panting, moaning, writhing at the tendrils of sensation his thumb was wringing from my clit. My entire core was alight as the head of his cock created intense sensations inside me. Tingles traveled up my backbone. I closed my eyes as the feeling grew in intensity. Bigger. Larger.
“Yes!” I screamed into the night. My orgasm was an orange flame. Wild and unpredictable and full of heat. It traveled up my spine into my head. The sensation was so intense I couldn’t breathe for a moment.
He kept his finger on me, drawing out the aftershocks until I had to smack his hand away because it was too much. I was seeing black spots.
I sank back down, and Quinn collapsed on top of me. He’d come. I hadn’t even noticed, I’d been so blinded by my own release.
We lay in contented silence for a minute in the dark. But gradually, the cold started to bite at me. So, we stood, casting small smiles at one another as he brushed leaves off the back of my shirt. I’d just reached down to grab another leaf when I saw a pair of eyes glowing in the woods.
I stiffened and Quinn whirled around to face the danger, swiping the image from my thoughts.
A wolf stepped out of the shadows. It was long and lean and grey. Its hair stood on end.
Quinn reached for the knife in his belt where it lay on forest floor, but I held out a hand to stop him.
I don’t want a repeat of the Fuzzy debacle, I thought at him. There’s still one ring left, isn’t there?
Quinn shook his head. No. It’s the dragon’s.
Liar. Wouldn’t he have come by now? Just give me a moment.
I looked the wolf straight in the eye and asked, “Are you under a spell?”
The wolf growled. His lips pulled back, showing a sharp, sinister line of fangs.
The hair rose on my neck.
I don’t think he’s spelled, Dove, Quinn snarked, Permission to kill him now?
I nodded, stepping closer to Quinn.
That drew the wolf forward. And out of the shadows stepped several of his friends.
Quinn and I were surrounded.
And we were out of Flight.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Sard!” I ran through the woods barefoot, in only a man’s white shirt. Quinn ran completely naked, taking up position behind me to guard our rear. We were too far from the capital, too far from the castle.
Shite, shite, shite! My brain couldn’t think anything useful with the sound of wolves growling all around me.
One leapt out of the forest in front of me.
I unsheathed Ryan’s hairpin weapon from the leather band on my arm. I only had a second to wonder if I’d have to use it when a huge shadow dropped from the sky, landing on the wolf.
A horrid roar filled the air.
I skidded to a halt. Quinn stopped just behind me. He threw his hands around my waist, ready to fling me behind him.
Because in front of me, diving out of the sky, was a winged bear.
The bear smacked another wolf as it tried to attack, sending the creature flying.
The bear dropped to all fours and ran straight at us. Quinn pulled me aside just as the bear batted away a wolf that had tried to sneak up on us from behind.
After that, the wolves seem to forsake us as prey. The darted back off into the shadows.
I was breathing hard. My blood was pumping so fast I could hear it in my ears.
The bear turned toward us. I walked backward and tripped over the body of the wolf that had been smashed upon the bear’s landing.
Quinn scooped me up, eyes on the bear. I had to move the hairpin to my other hand to avoid stabbing my knight. He started to slowly back us further away.
The bear eyed us for a moment. And I felt certain it was going to lunge. Felt certain that my life wasn’t going to end with rebellion or my head on a chopping block. I felt sure I was about to be assassinated by a foreign queen.
Until a bluebird dive bombed the bear.
The bird smacked the bear directly on the nose and then fluttered its wings. Its claws settled into the fur on the bear’s head and it pecked at the bear’s ear.
The bear sat back on its ass and with a thump. He swatted at the bird, which came fluttering over to land on my shoulder.
“Blue?” I asked, incredulous. My hand went over my heart and my head tried to tell it to slow down. But it took a bit.
I squinted at the bear. “Fuzzy?”
The bear made a whining sound and covered its face with its paw.
I gasped in relief and sheathed my pathetic weapon. Next time, I was insisting on a sarding sword.
“How the hell did you get wings?” I asked.
A titter had me looking upward. Donaloo floated down from the sky. He landed next to the squashed wolf and tsked at Fuzzy. “Instincts are good, but we must be careful. Or we could all soon be despairful. Only the force that must be had should be used, otherwise force will use us, and we won’t get to choose.”
I tilted my head as I studied the wizard. “Why did you give Fuzzy wings?”
“Why—how else would he fly? Wings are best to get from here to there. And when you’ve got to go west, wings are better than a ship’s fare.”
I closed my eyes, feeling somewhat sorry I’d asked.
Can you ask him to get us back to the palace, Dove? And maybe magic us up some clothes so we don’t walk in … like this? He gestured at the very thin white shirt that ended at my thighs and his own nude state.
You look great but I … yes, I’ll ask. I sighed. I’d probably get twelve annoying rhymes as answers. But hopefully Donaloo could magic up a fur-lined cloak. I took a step closer to the wizard, “Donaloo, do you think you could make some magical cloaks or something so that Quinn and I aren’t so … exposed to the cold? And maybe, possibly … help us fly back to the palace? We ran out of Flight potion.”
Donaloo gave me a tongue click and finger point, which I assumed meant yes. At least it wasn’t a rhyme.
He waved his hands, and immediately I felt as if a soft rabbit’s fur cloak was brushing against my arms. But when I looked down, the cloak was invisible. My ice-cold nipples were still on full display through the thin shirt I wore. I felt quite certain if I leaned over and looked, my love triangle would also show. I closed my eyes and breathed through my nose, telling myself that the wizard had not done that on purpose.
His magic is wonky, I talked myself down. He’s not a dirty old man.
I took a deep breath and made eye contact with Donaloo, who was—very clearly—smirking.
Nix that. Completely a dirty old man. And an ass.
“Donaloo, could you please ensure that no one can see my body?” I asked with a smile through gritted teeth. “This would be inappropriate.” I gestured at myself. My court tone needed a lot of work, because my fury slipped through in my voice.
“Oh, not just exposure to the cold, exposure to eyes that might wander and behold,” he winked.
“Yes, please.” It felt like agony to have to respond. To not just grab him by the throat and shake him.
I think I like him even more now, Quinn laughed internally.
You would.
Quick as a wink, orange magic flared out and wrapped around my cloak and I felt relieved when the cloak didn’t burst into flames, just settled against me, feeling slightly heavier than before.
When the sparkling orange mist dissipated, I looked down again. Now, none of my body from the shoulders down was visible. I looked over. Quinn now had a nice, normal outfit. I was a sarding head floating in midair.
Donaloo couldn’t control his giggles. Even Fuzzy let out a snuffle. Quinn howled inside my head, tears dripping from his eyes. Only Blue looked at me with any pity at all.
He gave you exactly what you asked
for, Dove!
I stroked my bluebird’s chest, fighting down the anger that made me feel crazy enough to attack a bear, a powerful wizard, and my husband.
“Sard it,” I said and turned away from the men, stomping off in the direction of the palace.
Wait! You’re supposed to ask him to fly us home! Quinn called out.
I’m not sarding asking that fool for anything else! I mind-yelled, Ask him yourself.
My mind and the forest rang out with laughter as Donaloo and Quinn watching my floating head drift away.
When Donaloo recovered from his fit of laughter over his own hilarity, he volunteered Fuzzy to fly us back. He and Quinn rode the bear through the forest until they caught up with me and Blue.
I begrudgingly accepted their ride since the castle was probably a two-day walk away. I climbed onto the bear’s wide back. I ended up sandwiched between Donaloo, who navigated, and Quinn who rode behind me and kept me from tumbling backward by hooking his feet over the front of Fuzzy’s wing bones. Blue flew beside us.
We were starting our descent to the castle when—Boom! A fireball the size of a wagon erupted from the formal wing of the palace. The wing where I would have been at dinner. Smoke billowed upward. And I heard a series of shrieks begin.
“What the sard?” My heart thundered.
My brain reeled. Those rebels were still planning. They weren’t supposed to attack! They were after Sedara! Why—
A second boom. Closer to the main hall. Another fireball launched into the sky.
My mind shut down.
Shock.
Just utter shock overcame me for a moment.
And then fear slithered in.
Holy sarding hell. My home. My husbands! My people.
A sheen of tears coated my eyes automatically and I tried to blink them back.
I had to force my brain to turn back on. It wanted to curl into a ball as I had when I was a child during the Fire Wars.
No, I reproached myself. Think.
I grabbed at Donaloo’s shirt. “Can you help? Please?”
I heard Quinn start to mind-yell to groups, unconsciously including me on some of them. Words like —evacuate, Declan, water—
Donaloo raised a hand in front of me and the mage’s tower began to glow. The flowers on the vines lit up as if they were candles encased in colored glass.
Purple fairies rose in the night sky and unsheathed their bright yellow swords. Then they plunged, screaming, down into the courtyard. To fight what, I couldn’t tell.
Orange trumpet flowers shot off the mage’s tower and opened, floating in midair until they reached the flames from the explosion. Then they swallowed. They expanded after they ate the flames and then looked like bloated orange lanterns as they drifted through the air, belching smoke.
My heart was tight as a drum. Quinn, where are the others? I asked quietly. I feared his answer.
Quinn shook his head. I looked back at him. His eyes were scanning frantically back and forth as if he were reading quickly. I don’t think he saw the scene below at all. I felt certain a hundred people’s thoughts filled him at once. A million different micro-expressions crossed his face. Everyone who had a bead was probably yelling at him all at once. Only one sentence came from him. We have a leak. Someone’s turned.
I turned to Donaloo. “Do you know where my knights are? Can you help them? Can you protect them? Please?”
I looked below, where all the inhabitants of the castle scurried around, as chaotic as the bugs underneath a lifted rock.
All I could think of were Declan, Ryan, and Connor. Their faces flashed on repeat in my mind: Declan’s blond hair and piercing blue eyes, Ryan’s gorgeous curled lashes and the way he towered over me, Connor’s sweetly mussed curls. My heart pumped so fast that my body grew hot. I was sweltering inside even though the cold made my breath fog.
Nothing can happen to them, I thought. Nothing.
There was an endless moment as Donaloo surveyed the chaos below. He spotted Cerena running across the moat and pointed. “There!” He pushed Fuzzy into a dive. We landed on the bank of the far side of the moat, outside the castle walls.
We dismounted. Fuzzy didn’t like the chaos and so with a roar, he took off into the night sky, disappearing.
Blue settled on the ground near my feet, hiding between my legs so he wouldn’t get trampled. Donaloo strode immediately toward Cerena, who limped toward him.
I looked at Quinn. His face was still a somber mask and he did not make eye contact with me. That only made my hands begin to shake.
Sard. Sard. Sard. What could I do? Peace magic couldn’t fight fire. This wasn’t a beast. These were explosives.
I shot a stream of green magic at those who fled across the drawbridge, hoping that at least I could stop someone from getting trampled, keep the evacuation under control. I scanned every face that went past, looking for my knights.
There were maids in tears, guards fully armed, cooks, and courtiers hurrying out side by side. I didn’t see the nobles.
When one young boy saw my floating head and started to scream, I pulled the cloak over my hair, hiding myself, peering through the parted material. I kept up the trail of green magic, though my arms ripped open to the elbow. I pulsed the green, trying to touch each person as they fled. My blood flowed freely, and my arms began to ache.
Donaloo and Cerena faced the castle. They linked hands. They lifted their arms toward the sky.
Donaloo uttered one word, “Stop.”
And everyone froze.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I stopped pulsing magic, because everyone who had not crossed the drawbridge was suddenly still as a statue. They were frozen mid-step, mid-blink.
I didn’t wait, I ran toward the drawbridge, letting my cloak fall around my shoulders once more. It took Quinn a couple seconds to realize what had happened, what I was doing.
Bloss, wait! He mentally yelled after me.
But I didn’t listen. I ducked and dodged around frozen people as quickly as I could. My eyes were searching, always searching, for my knights.
I made it to the castle steps before Donaloo materialized in front of me. “Don’t go in, not yet, the clock has started, and your plan’s not set. Seventy-two solid hours, the castle will stay frozen under these powers. But after that, to melt the spell, you must go through the gates of hell.”
“STOP! Just stop!” I screamed at him. I reached for his arm to push the wizard aside. I was done with rhymes and riddles. “I need to find my knights!”
Bloss—Quinn’s hands wrapped around my waist, yanking me backward. They aren’t here.
What? I whirled to face him. His grey eyes stared back at me. It was the first time since the explosion that he’d looked directly at me.
They followed the Countess Malia after dinner. Remember?
So, Malia’s not working with the rebellion?
Quinn shrugged. If she is, at least she doesn’t seem to want you dead.
I ran my hands through my hair, yanking on it. My legs felt like butter. My stomach churned. Relief coursed through me and it felt awful. I needed to puke. But more than that, I needed to see my knights. I needed to know they were alive.
Quinn led me out of the courtyard, toward the orchard. Cerena and Donaloo followed slowly, at the pace her limp would allow.
Blue flew ahead, scouting through the trees. He looped back toward us, flying fast, faster than I’d ever seen. He didn’t stop to perch on me but started dive bombing, blocking my path.
“What the sard?” I held up my hands to cover my head. Blue smashed against them. Then he flew lower and I felt him pluck at my coat with his beak.
Declan’s still disguised as you, Quinn thought. He’s telling you to cover up. Just in case.
I sighed in relief and annoyance. “One day, I’m gonna ask Donaloo to make you into a speaking bird,” I muttered as I pulled the cloak over my head and hid my face.
Quinn jogged back to tell Cerena and Donaloo to stay
back and accompany me while he went on ahead.
I followed him slowly through the clearing. Blue flew near me, as if he were a tiny blue bodyguard. Whichever prince of Cheryn he was, he clearly didn’t have his father’s famous disdain for others.
I peered around the trees as I walked, eager to get my eyes on my men.
When I slid behind and oak and peered at them standing in a clearing, my chest loosened. I hadn’t realized how tight it had been until it unwound. Ryan stood near the disguise-spelled version of me. Connor was arguing with Malia.
“We need to move!”
“Where is everyone? You need Quinn. Declan. You can’t move without them—” she whispered furiously.
Quinn tromped into view and waved.
Duchess Malia leaned and peered around him. “Declan?”
Quinn tilted his head. Then he shook it side to side for Malia. As he did, he mind-spoke to all of us. She’s awfully interested in Declan. Her thoughts are completely focused on seeing him.
Declan? Why would she be thinking about him? I wondered.
Connor says he feels desperation coming from her. Need, Quinn responded. Stay out of sight. I don’t trust her.
Of course, we don’t trust her. We don’t trust anyone. Someone just blew up the castl—
Countess Malia interrupted my thought by stepping closer to Declan, who looked highly uncomfortable as me. His hands fidgeted with my dress.
“Your Majesty, please, shouldn’t we go back and make sure no one’s hurt?” Malia crooned.
“No one would be hurt if you’d sarding just told us there was a bomb!” Declan snarled.
“I didn’t know where it was! I was just told to take a walk!” Malia replied.
And then, she did something unprecedented. She grabbed Declan—me—by the wrist and yanked forward.
Ryan unsheathed his sword, but Malia brandished a glowing orange vial.
“Don’t!” she screamed. “Don’t or I’ll have to kill the queen!” She pressed the vial against Declan’s throat.
She might as well have been pressing that vial against my own. My pulse sped. My chest constricted painfully around my heart. Fear chained me, linked me to Declan. Every tiny breath he took, the shadow of a shiver in his fingertips, I felt it as if it were mine.