Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Map of Scotland
A note on spelling
What happend previously
Author's Note
Coming soon
Other books by Skye MacKinnon
Skye MacKinnon
Stones of Winter
Winter Princess #2
First published by Peryton Press in 2017
Copyright © Skye MacKinnon, 2017
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
Cover by Arizona Tape.
Unicorns are real.
Contents
Map of Scotland
A note on spelling
What happend previously
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Author's Note
Coming soon
Other books by Skye MacKinnon
>
For my mum, who made me fall in love with books in the first place.
Map of Scotland
A note on spelling
This book has been written by a Scottish author using British English. Please don’t hold this against me :)
If you’re from the other side of the pond, here are some translations. Get in touch if I’ve missed any and I might send you a postcard from Scotland in return!
Aboot (Scots) - about
Dinnae ken (Scots) – don’t know
Dreich (Scots) – bad, miserable weather
Flat – apartment
Having a fag – smoking a cigarette
Homely - homey
What happend previously
I know how it is when you read a lot, so here's a quick summary of what happened in Episode 1 of the Winter Princess (if you haven't read it yet, get it here).
As a demi-goddess, Wyn has always stood out from the human crowd. And now, on her 22nd birthday, her magic finally surfaces with a bang. A Big bang. She’ll need the help of not one, but four (sexy) guardians to control her destructive powers. Her mother, the Winter Queen, waits for her in the Realm of Gods, but Wyn has enemies, even if she doesn’t know it yet…
Chapter 1
“When we couldn’t find you, we persuaded,” Storm smiles grimly when he says that, “the hotel clerk to show us the CCTV footage. Luckily your kidnappers were either stupid or careless. Their number plate was in full view when they left the parking garage.”
“How did the number plate help you?” I ask, confused.
“We’ve got… connections,” Storm adds. "All major roads have cameras that continuously track the number plates of all cars driving along it. It was easy to see their route, until they started to use smaller roads – but then a call came through about an accident involving this very car.”
“Don’t ever scare us like that again,” Arc grumbles.
I take the bait. “Or what?”
“Or I’ll leash you and keep you within reach at all times.” His voice turns dark as he says that, and I swallow hard. The other guys turn away from me, hiding their smiles. Evil.
"Do you still have your phone?" Frost asks as he takes out the sim card of his own and throws it out of the open window.
"No, course not, otherwise I would have been able to call you."
He nods sagely. "Guys, give me yours. We don't know who these guys were and what kind of resources they have."
"But I just bought mine," Crispin moans theatrically.
"Royal coffers, remember?"
"Ok, but be gentle with it." He pretends to cry as Frost breaks his phone in two. So much for gentle.
"Do you have anything else they could track?"
Nobody looks at Frost for a moment, then Arc sighs and takes off his watch. It's one of those fancy smart watches that can do all sorts of cool stuff. Yeah, not jealous at all.
"Sorry, mate," Frost grins, then conjures a sphere of water around the watch. Its display blinks a few times, then stays black. Death by drowning. Lovely. Arc looks wistfully at his broken watch. "Can I at least keep it?"
"Better safe than sorry," Frost says and throws it out of the window where it joins a pile of broken phones and sim cards. "Now all we need to do is get rid of the car."
"Thank the Gods," Storm calls from the driver's seat. "This thing is far too small. I'm not even sure if I can make it out of this seat without dislocating something."
"Where are we going to get a new car from?" I ask. "And where did you leave our old one?"
"When we saw that you were gone, we had to improvise." Frost avoids my eyes.
"So you stole it?"
"We borrowed it. We'll leave some cash in it for the owner."
"Well, that's very generous of you," I huff.
"Would you rather we had waited for the garage to repair our rental car? You'd still be sitting in the ditch had we not driven here straight away," Storm says angrily.
I decide to keep my mouth shut. In a way, he's right. But only in a way. I won't tell him that, I don't need to inflate his ego even more.
"We'll drive to the nearest village and get a new car. And then we'll drive to Ullapool without any delays. We need to get you to the Stones as soon as possible, especially with these people wanting you for some reason."
"At least they want me," I throw at him.
He's silent for a moment, then mumbles, "What gave you the idea I didn't want you?"
"You've not exactly been very friendly to me since we met."
Frost snickers, earning him a death glare from both Storm and myself. "Wyn, this is my brother at his friendliest. He's a lot less grumpy now that you're with us than usual."
I stare at him. "Are you serious? He's arrogant, impolite, ..."
"I can hear you!" Storm thunders.
"I know, that's why I'm saying it."
Arc interrupts. "As entertaining as this is, we need ta get going. I dinnae ken when the last ferry goes, so we'd better hurry."
That shuts us all up. The voice of reason, coming out of Arc's mouth. That's... refreshing.
Only twenty minutes later, we sit in a new car, a dark green Toyota. It's bigger than the last one, but I'm still squeezed by the two brutes sitting on either side of me. Storm is driving, as always, and his brother is sitting next to him, studying a map he found in the glove compartment. Which leaves me with Crispin and Arc on the back bench. Arc is slightly hunched, preventing his head from bumping against the ceiling. I'm pressed against Crispin, trying to give Arc more space. I don't think we're going to be able to stay in this position for very long.
"Luckily those bastards took you in the right direction," Frost says, pointing at the map. "We would have lost a lot of time otherwise. But now we're only about an hour away from Ullapool where we'll take the ferry to Stornoway. From there it's about half an hour's drive to the Stones, so we should be at the Gate before night falls."
"What will happen once we get there?" I ask.
"We'll open the Gate and step through to the Realms."
"You make it sound very easy."
"It is. Piece of cake. Unless there are demons. Or Gods. Or, even worse, girls."
I turn to Crispin. "Did he just say 'girls'?"
He grins and loud-whispers, "The twins got a bit of
a fan club. Some of the female Guardians and humans living in the border area of the Realm-"
"Wait, there are humans living in the Gods' Realms?"
"Aye," Arc says, grimacing. "Some Gods like to have... pets."
"They keep humans as pets?" I cringe. Maybe I don't want to visit my mother after all.
"Not those kinds of pets. Think more of... well..."
"Sex, lassie," Arc barges in, grinning happily. "Apparently, humans are quite good in bed."
I blush, wiping from my mind the image of naked humans surrounding a Goddess on her throne. "Does that mean Gods aren't?" I resist asking about Guardians. I don't want to give them the impression of a needy human female who hasn't been with a man in far too long.
"There aren't many Gods around," Crispin explains, "and some prefer not to mix work with pleasure, so Guardians are out of the running. Humans are a logical choice."
"How many Gods are there?"
"How can ye not ken?" Arc shoots me an incredulous look.
"Hey, I was brought up human. It's not my fault my mother didn't teach me anything about her world."
That shuts them up.
"Lass, she had her reasons," Arc finally says softly. I nod, looking out of the window, avoiding his glance. It's a sore point and I'd rather avoid crying in front of them. I don't cry very often, but somehow I feel like my hormones are in turmoil. Must be all this testosterone around me.
We drive on in silence, slowly getting closer to a new chapter in my life.
Chapter 2
It's late afternoon by the time we arrive in Ullapool. We have no time to explore its pretty little streets as we drive straight into the maw of the ferry (seriously, it looks like a massive sea monster with its mouth wide open ready to swallow the cars and lorries that are waiting to board). The ferry is much bigger than I thought. There are several food outlets, a shop and even a tiny cinema. We head to a quiet corner in a pub-style restaurant. I have a quick look at the menu, but the movement of the ship is making me feel queasy already - I don't even want to think about how it'll feel once we leave the harbour. Instead of food, I order a whisky. The guys look at me strangely when I order a glass of the 12-year-old Highland Park, but I ignore them. Not every person under 25 drinks their whisky mixed with coke or other travesties. I add a single drop of water, gleefully watching the Guardians' faces. This is fun. Whisky has never tasted this good.
They have all ordered food, and by the time it arrives, the boat has left Ullapool and the waves have started to become bigger. The floor is vibrating from the movement of the engines, and together with the smell of the food it's beginning to make me feel nauseous.
I excuse myself and head to the toilets. I don't have to puke (not yet, anyway), but I need to get away from the food. Okay, maybe the toilets weren't the best idea. Judging from the smell permeating the small room, nobody has cleaned them in a while. Or a lot of other people have been sick already, which I kind of doubt. I stumble back through the heaving corridors until I reach a lounge. Comfortable airline-style seats are inviting me to rest, but instead I step through a heavy door out onto the deck. I breathe in the fresh air - it's only slightly smelling of exhaust fumes - and go to the railings, looking down into the dark, foamy water. A few other people are standing outside, mostly smokers having a fag.
With every breath, my nausea dissipates. Guess I'll spend the rest of the journey outside. I stick my hands into the large front pocket of my hoodie. I need to thank the guys later on for bringing my clothes from the hotel. Taking off my mud-crusted pyjamas was the best thing I did all day.
Gulls are circling the ship, white dots in a cloud-hung sky. I wonder if they'll accompany us all the way to the islands. I close my eyes, breathing in the salty sea air. Below me, the engines hum a steady song. The enormity of this journey finally begins to sink in. I'm going to visit my mother. I'm actually going to see the Realms of the Gods. I've dreamed of travelling there all my life, and now it's finally time. I'm going back to the place I was born, and get to know the woman who gave birth to me. Maybe she'll even tell me about my father. On all her visits, and in her letters, she's refused to tell me who he is. All I know is that he isn't a God - but that doesn't really help, does it.
With the engine noise filling my ears, I don't notice the quiet around me until it's too late. I open my eyes and realise that I'm the only one left on the deck. It's eerily quiet, and the gulls have disappeared. I turn to walk back inside, but I don't even make it a single step. I am thrown into the air by an invisible fist squeezing my waist. I tumble and fall, screaming, and then the sea comes closer, too close, black and blue and foreboding, and the wind drops me into the water, pushing me under. I fight, freeing my magic, pushing against the foreign, black tendrils that are wrapped around my body. My eyes are filled with seawater, but somehow I know that this strange, hostile magic is all around me. Instinctively, I weave a net of my magic all over my skin, then push, ignoring my burning lungs, until the net becomes a sphere around me, keeping the stranger's magic away from me. It takes all my strength to keep the shield up and use my arms and legs to try and reach the surface of the water that is threatening to drown me. Black spots are clouding my vision and my lungs are going to force open my mouth any second now. I'm going to drown. Finally, I reach the surface, taking in a big breath, almost swallowing half a wave in the process. I cough, trying to stay afloat while struggling for air. My energy is rapidly leaving me. I'll have to decide between keeping the magic net up or swimming. I choose swimming.
When the magic tendrils pull back into my body, a shiver runs through me, bringing a tiny bit of extra energy with it. Enough to stay afloat for a little while longer. I shake my head, trying to get the salt water out of my eyes so I can see. Waves are towering over me on all sides, but in between them I can see the ferry, disappearing slowly. Nobody seems to have noticed that I went overboard. What now? I can just about see land in the direction we came from, but I'd never reach it. Even if I knew how to use my magic to swim faster, I wouldn't have the energy. I'm getting tired of being faced with certain death. It's happened far too often in the past few days. In this moment, I wish the Gods were like the beings many humans expect them to be: all-knowing, all-seeing, able to rescue people from danger. Instead, they're probably drunk in some palace in an alternate reality. They couldn't care less about humans. And even if they did, it's not like they could see me from their Realm.
Fuck it. I'm going to live. In a sudden burst of inspiration, I form a small fireball floating above me, away from the reach of the waves, then throw it into the sky, like a flare. It's not very bright, but I'm sure it can be seen from the ferry. Just in case, I pull together every last bit of magic I have in me and make a second ball of fire, slightly bigger. I let it float upwards, trying to make it last as long as possible. I almost cry when my last hope fizzles out above me. But then, what's the point in crying when your cheeks are already wet with salt water from the sea that is going to drown you.
With every wave carrying me up and letting me drop, my hope wanes. I think of my parents, the humans who raised me. They'll be waiting for me to return, thinking I'm happily spending time with my birth mother, when in fact I'm lying at the bottom of the sea.
A shout rips through the roaring of the waves. I try to keep my head out of the water to listen. Again, a shout, this time closer.
I open my mouth to reply, but a wave breaks over my head and I am shoved down into the depths. When I resurface again, I manage to shout, although it comes out more like a hoarse whisper, "Here! I'm here!"
"WYN! Wynter!" Frost. He's come for me.
"Hee-" Another wave swallows my shout, but a second later he is there, hovering on the waves like a surfer. In any other situation I'd admire the effortless way he seems to stand on the water, the beauty of his toned body against the light of the waning sun, the shadows on his face highlighting his masculine features... But in this moment, I'm drowning and I don't care. Sue me.
He kneels by m
y side - yes, he effing kneels on the water that is trying to devour me - and pulls me up until I'm in his arms, pressed against his heaving chest.
"Are you hurt?" His voice is tense and I want to tell him that I'm alright, that I will be alright, but all that comes out is a pitiful cough. He hugs me even tighter and begins to run over the water's surface, back towards the ferry. His body is warm and I snuggle against him, listening to his heart beat as I close my eyes.
Somehow, we get back to the ferry. It involves him running on the water's surface, slaloming around waves and clouds of spray. I stay snuggled against Frost's broad chest, shivering and only half-conscious. Too. Much. Water. For. One. Day.
And far too much magic. At least this time it wasn't my own magic that tried to kill me. Which leads to the question what this assassination attempt was all about, but I can't think. My head hurts.
When we arrive at the ferry, I can see the other three guys standing on deck by the railing, looking down on us. Storm holds up his hands and a wind hose forms around us, gently picking us up (together with a lot of ocean) and carrying us all the way to the deck they're standing on. Strong arms take me away from Frost. I resist, I want to stay with him.
"Shhh, it's ok, he just needs a moment of rest." I let go of Frost, and the warmth. But I'm handed to another warm body I can snuggle against. Another warm chest presses against my back until I'm sandwiched between two of my Guardians. Now, I understand why they're called that. They worked together and actually rescued me. I feel a little pathetic; the damsel in distress. I'm supposed to be the strong one, the one who's more powerful than them. Right now, I don't feel powerful at all. But inside, a little voice reminds me how much I enjoy being hugged by the guys.
Stones of Winter: (Reverse Harem Serial) (Winter Princess Book 2) Page 1