by Lucy Farago
“Oh no, no bone for you. Try again, dog.”
Sirius couldn’t recall the last time he’d taken such an instant dislike to someone, but then again, there wasn’t much to like about the man.
“Queen,” Winter said, giving her sibling another backhand. “I left home when I was seventeen.”
“Ran away, you mean.”
She shoved Aubin with enough force that it sent him flying a good ten feet. “Say another word, I dare you.”
The prick just smiled, seeming to take great joy in his sister kicking his ass.
“You’re a queen,” Sirius said, ignoring their weird family dynamics. “And now you’re expected to return home. Are you going to tell me where home is?” Would he follow her?
“I…. Queen in waiting, and shit for brains is right. I ran away. I was hoping they’d think I died or something. Or that they’d give the throne to my idiot twin. It’s complicated. But they didn’t. My little sister is next in line. But no one can take the throne until their twenty-fifth birthday. They’re full of these bogus traditions and rules. I knew Tulip wouldn’t be up for the task, but I couldn’t breathe. And honestly, I was tired of the abuse.”
“Abuse? We were in training, for when it was time for you to take your place as the rightful heir.” Aubin brushed the dirt off his pants, unaware of Winter rolling her eyes as he approached her from behind.
“Fight harder, Winter. Strike faster, Winter. Don’t laugh, don’t cry, don’t love, Winter. It will be seen as a sign of weakness. Make them fear you, Winter. Be a queen, Winter. Just don’t be yourself.”
In fairness, he could see how that would get on someone’s nerves.
“And our tenuous alliance with—” He eyeballed Sirius. “They would have seen all of that as a sign of weakness. Winter, you are leaving me with no choice. You need to be sitting on your throne.”
“Then you sit on it.”
“Oh, sister,” he said with what sounded like heartfelt emotion. “You have to be dead for that to happen.”
The hair on the back of Sirius’s neck bristled, and before he could ask what the hell he meant by that, Aubin slapped a small metal square onto Winter’s shoulder and snared her in his arms. Then, poof, they were gone.
“What the fuck?”
It took Winter a few disoriented seconds to realize she was no longer in the Rocky Mountains. The fucktwad had transported her back to the Tundra, the home she’d fled. Ice crystalized in her hair, and she knew the arctic wind turned her lips and eyes their natural blue, her cheekbones shimmering more than JLo’s at the Oscars. No one would accuse her kind of needing highlighter.
Aubin didn’t put up much of a fight as she freed herself from his hold. She was going to make him regret doing this. She wasn’t the girl they’d beaten the shit out of, time and time again. She’d taken their lessons, added a few of her own, and some from what she’d learned working for FUC, and honed her fighting skills. No longer fearful, she’d become her family’s worst nightmare, the warrior they’d wanted her to be.
“You cheated,” she said, of his zapping her home.
“You left me no choice.”
But before she could make her first move, a hatch in the ice floor opened. One by one, three brothers and two sisters emerged.
“We missed you,” her sisters, the first to react, said in unison. They’d grown, their arms now able to encircle her completely.
Missed tormenting her, she’d bet. The little miscreants had only been twelve when she’d left. What was the human expression? Full of spit and vinegar, they’d been evil to the core, gleefully following father’s orders to torment her. Waking her from any well-deserved nap she’d managed to steal. Never giving her a moment’s peace. They were like bees, a constant annoying buzz to Winter’s much-sought-out quiet.
“I missed you the most,” Tulip whispered in her ear, giving her an extra tight squeeze. “I can’t tell you how happy I am you’ve returned.”
“All right, Tulip, Tempest. Mother wants to see her too.” Storm, the youngest of her brothers, had become the man she knew he would be. He, too, had grown, now a man who bore a striking resemblance to their dead father.
If only their father had lived long enough to fight the rule of succession and the outdated pact. Much to her mother’s horror, Winter had tried to convince him the humans had been right in passing the throne to male heirs when, out of nowhere, his heart failed him. Even though he was as cold as the climate around them, she mourned his loss, as much as she mourned the freedom she’d never have as queen. He’d loved her in his own odd way.
After the girls uncoiled themselves, Winter got her first real look at her two remaining brothers. Rudy, short for Rudolph—Santa’s reindeer, another of her mother’s great ideas—nodded his greeting, while his twin Wren—really Robin, a name he despised and refused to answer to—ever the smooth talker that he wasn’t, grunted his. Family reunions, weren’t they grand?
Having no choice, she followed them down the ice steps into the underground world they called home. She shivered as the metal hatch, once belonging to the ship that had stranded her people here forty-five million years ago, slid into place, sealing her inside. How the hell was she going to get out of this one? And more importantly, how was she to explain this to Sirius? How did one explain they were aliens, caught in a black hole, dumped on a planet foreign to them?
As she walked the long corridor to her mother’s chamber, they passed the holograms of those who came before them. As a child, she’d hated this part of the underground fortress, all those iridescent eyes accusing her of not measuring up. Well, they could fuck themselves, and she took great pleasure in giving them all the finger. Her little sisters gasped, one brother tsked, one muttered, “Ever the brat,” and she was sure it was Wren who chortled under his breath. At least he’d grown a sense of humor. Then again, he didn’t have to be king.
A short time later, after she’d seen her mother, Winter found herself in her old room. The reunion hadn’t gone as expected. Rebukes, predictable, but tears? For a people who hid their emotions, the crying had taken her by surprise. Was it because her father no longer held them accountable? Sitting on the edge of her childhood bed, she recalled how her life had been nothing but tutors, combat instructors, scientists, historians, even philosophers. All things to ensure a well-rounded queen, ready to lead her people. She wasn’t afforded time for laughter or tears. Her existence had been colder than the tundra above. Nothing like what she had with Sirius.
He must be so worried. It wasn’t fair, her brother zapping her away, right there in front of him. But then the prick knew exactly the effect it would have on Sirius. He’d been stalking her ever since the night she’d broken his nose, when he’d tried—and failed, she thought with satisfaction—to make her come home. This was all her fault. She’d been flaunting their relationship, at first just to get under Aubin’s skin, but then…. She let out a long breath. It had been too much to hope for, his seeing how happy she was and leaving her alone.
“Winter.” Wren rapped his knuckles on her door after he opened it. “Can I come in?”
“What if I’d been naked?”
He shrugged. “You have nothing that interests me.”
She grabbed a pillow and tossed it at his head. “Did you finally tell Mother?” she asked, eyeing his empty ring finger.
She’d always known Wren would never be happy with Sasha, his betrothed since birth. Wren marrying the daughter of Olon, King of the Northern Faction, was their father’s way to keep the tenuous alliance intact. Olon had no brothers. Should anything happen to his only son—and if Sasha didn’t produce an heir—it would be kaput for his male line. Or worse, it could ignite a civil war in the North, as two of Olon’s cousins would try and claim their right to the throne. Problem was, Wren was more interested in Aaron, her brother, who had been promised to Tempest, when she became of age. All the outdated mumbo-jumbo gave Winter a headache.
“I didn’t have to,” he said, sitting
beside her. “She knew.”
“You’d have saved yourself a lot of stress if you’d listened to me.” Of course their mother knew.
“Says the girl who had to be returned to her throne by force.”
She pushed him off her bed and onto the floor. “You should have warned me.”
“I did,” he said. “I told you when you left they’d come looking for after your twenty-fifth birthday.” He got up and sidled up next her. “The council can only rule in your stead until then. You’d have saved yourself a lot of stress if you’d listened to me.”
And she promptly kicked his ass back onto the floor…where the dickhead laughed at her.
“I missed you,” he said, all his merriment at her expense gone.
“You missed kicking my butt.” He hadn’t been the toughest, but he certainly hadn’t gone easy on her.
“Yeah, that too.”
Out of all her siblings, Wren was the one, the only one, she’d missed. One year separated both sets of twins, but he was by far the wisest of all of them. Her sisters were spoiled, bratty, and often cruel, taking great joy in ratting Winter out when she wasn’t doing her homework or practicing the kata her martial arts teachers nagged her to do. And she swore Aubin took great pleasure in watching her fail. Which was why she thought he, out of all of them, would relish her absence, would take advantage of it and try and take the crown for himself. Why hadn’t he done that?
“So…” He started to rise and then wisely stayed put. “Tell me about the Siberian.”
8
“You know about Sirius?”
“Aubin has been reporting back.”
“I can imagine what he’s been saying.” Sullying herself…the nerve. “He can go royally fuck himself.”
“He’s got Sasha for that.”
“Of course.” Why had she been surprised? “Why would her betrothal to you stop the council from getting what they wanted?”
“I was happy he took her off my hands. Wait until you meet his son. He’s the spitting image of Mother. Much to Olon’s chagrin.”
Wren pulled himself off the floor, only this time he grabbed a side chair, wagging a finger at Winter.
“Chicken shit.”
She threw herself back on the bed and stared up at the painted ceiling. When she was a little girl, her father had taught her the celestial landscape was a map of the universe they’d left behind. Unable to repair their ship, her kind found themselves stranded on a world very foreign to their own. The planet wasn’t what it was now. They’d come in the middle of what man called the Eocene period. The earth had been a hotter, less hospitable climate to her people. But the planet evolved and they went from the sunny shores of what would become Australia to the more forgiving landscape of the southern pole, as Australia and Antarctica divided. They were slow to populate, in no rush to usurp the planet. But as the population grew so did their need for land. Then they discovered Earth’s subterranean environment and underground they went.
The bed dipped as her brother nudged her over so he could join her. “I used to laugh at the irony,” he said, staring at the mural. “What would the fifty original say if they were here?”
She grunted. “Humans have an expression. ‘Turning over in their grave’. Have you heard it?”
“No, but I assume it means, they wouldn’t be happy?”
The fifty had been escaping a warring planet, bent on self-destruction. “I guess it would depend on who you talked to. The black-hole was either their salvation or their curse,” she said.
Having endured the battle for resources, they’d chosen to live in harmony with their new planet, allowing earth to evolve the way it was meant to. But their growing and ever-changing technology granted them the ability to dig beneath the earth’s surface. They adapted and soon, the two factions were created. When man came along, they saw no need to make their presence known, and so, lived in secret…in peace…until they couldn’t.
“And then I guess they’d laugh.”
“Laugh?” he asked.
“They fled a war so that millions of years later their descedents would agree to a stupid pact that would fuck up my life.” She let a long, pathetic breath. “Guess I should be grateful they didn’t come for me sooner.”
“In fairness to them, they tried with Tulip.”
“They didn’t try hard enough.” They’d nearly killed Winter in their attempts to make her a better queen.
“We both know she doesn’t have it in her. Why do you think everyone was so hard on you?”
“You were all a bunch of sadistic pricks?”
“Because you born a queen. But you refused to accept that. You didn’t see what we saw, the power inside you. Do you see it now?”
“Change the subject.” She’d had enough of this one.
“All right. You didn’t answer my question. What’s up with the dog?”
“Don’t call him that. He’s a Siberian. You know they’ve been around nearly as long as we have. Show him some respect.” She wouldn’t tolerate anyone talking shit about him, not even Wren.
“Evolving out of primordial ooze isn’t exactly equal to our evolution.”
“Do you need me to pull that stick out of your ass too?”
“No stick,” he said, poking his elbow into her ribs. “I just want to make certain anyone who messes with my sister is worthy of her. She is a queen, after all.”
Winter sat up and scrubbed her hands over her face, worried she’d never get to see Sirius again. “What are the odds I’m getting out of this?”
Wren enveloped her in his arms, pressing his cheek against hers. “We were hoping Olon would see reason, once Aubin and Sasha were married, but then Aaron died.”
Her mother had mentioned he’d been attacked, by all things, a great white shark. “I’m sorry, Wren. I know you cared for him.”
“A young boy’s crush,” he said, brushing off a sister’s sympathies. “He didn’t return my affection.”
Although she knew there was more to it than a teenage crush, for Wren’s sake, she let it go.
“But his death meant Sasha had to produce an heir to his throne. It took a couple of years, which, as you can imagine, didn’t make life for Olon any happier. His kingdom must be ruled by a male heir, ours female. That is the compact made all those years ago.”
And when their father’s sister died in childbirth, that put Winter next in line for the throne, the queen in waiting until her twenty-fifth birthday. “It could have worked, if everyone had believed I was dead. Then Tulip—”
“You were deluding yourself.”
“How did they find me?
“Given shifters are the closest to us genetically, the council keeps an eye on their goings-on. When Mastermind’s plan was foiled, they took a closer look at FUC, the agency, and those who work for them. Guess whose file they discovered.”
“I need a drink,” she said, jumping to her feet. “Take me to a bar.” How ironic that the job that had given her freedom was the reason it was being taken away.
“They won’t let you leave the palace. Your coronation is being planned as we speak. It’s tomorrow.”
They weren’t fooling around. “Fine, whatever. But there’s gotta be booze around here somewhere. I deserve a final meal, don’t I?”
“Winter, you’re not being executed. You’re being crowned Queen of the Southern Faction.”
“It feels like an execution. My life, the one I worked so hard to get, is being taken from me.” She was losing Sirius. She hadn’t realized exactly how much the stupid dog meant to her until now. She rubbed her stomach, literally sick by the idea she’d never see him again.
“Does he mean that much to you?”
“I love him.” What would be the point in lying? What she’d been afraid to admit, to herself and to him, she’d never be given the chance to say. “And he’s worried about me.”
“He’ll have to get over it. We’re a fickle lot, men. He’ll find someone new.”
�
��Gee, thanks.” Her brother could be a real dick sometimes. She began to pace, hoping the movement would settle her belly.
“I didn’t mean to imply you’re easy to get over. But you didn’t know each other that long.”
And yet here she was, in love with a man she couldn’t have. “A day, a week, a year, who’s to say how long it takes to fall in love? Wren, you have to do me a favor. You have to go see him,” she pleaded. “Tell him I’m all right.”
“Oh no. Aubin would kill me as sure as you’re standing there. He only tolerated the affair because he was confident in his ability to drag you back. If he thought for one second—”
“You don’t understand.” He had to believe her. She grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “He isn’t like other shifters. He’s a kind and gentle soul. He’ll think he failed me. This will eat at him. It is eating at him.”
“You don’t know that.”
Wren stood, freeing himself from her grasp. Her little brother was no longer little…and it made her want to kick his ass even more.
“I do know it.” It wasn’t a gut feeling. She simply knew. “He’s blaming himself. Right now, as we speak.” It made her bones ache, Sirius doubting what they had. Aubin had put it in his head, and now he couldn’t shake free of it.
“I can’t bear to have him think I was using him.”
Far too many women had done that. He loved too easy, yes, but what they had was different. The others might have used him, but he’d used them, too, to fill a void. She could see it now, understand it now. She was no void filler. She was his.
“Even if I wanted to help, I can’t. Aubin ordered all the space disintegrators to be put under lock and key. I have no way to transport myself.”
“He doesn’t trust me.”
“And with just cause. Good one, by the way. I laughed for an entire week when I saw his broken nose. Serves him right for ever doubting you.”