by Everly Frost
Phoenix! I cry inside my mind. You said I could call you if I needed your help. Please help me.
There’s a brief moment of silence. Then…
I’m outside when you’re ready.
I sink to Baelen’s side as relief washes through me. But I have another problem. I whisper to the Storm, “I need to move Baelen, but I’m not sure how.”
“Oh, that’s easy. Wind will help us.” She lifts her hands and Baelen’s body rises off the ground. “Which way do you want to go?”
On any other day, I might have smiled at how easy she makes it look to float him upward with a mere lift of her hands. Now, I’m just grateful that it can be done. “Outside. A friend is waiting for us.”
I rise to my feet, but before I can take two steps, Jasper blocks my path. His armor is dinted. Like the others he bears welts across his face and lower arms. I wince as I picture my lightning cutting across his body like whips.
He says, “I’m coming with you.”
I shake my head, maneuvering around him, which is difficult now that more elves are awake. I already told Jordan and Elise that they couldn’t come with me. I’m not changing my mind for Jasper. “No.”
He swiftly steps into my path again. His eyes flick left to where the Storm hovers. For a second, I think he can see her, but then I realize he’s looking past her to Jordan and Sebastian. They’ve taken a moment to embrace each other, their heads together, the relief on their faces visible even from here.
Jasper says, “If I’m going to leave my family, it has to be for something more than hiding out and surviving in the mountains.”
“Jasper, I’m going into gargoyle country. I might never make it back.”
“The same way you walked out of a gargoyle’s nest?” His gaze is piercing. “You survived that. I think you have the chance to survive this.”
My jaw drops. He has to be talking about the nest I found on Scepter Peak. He’d come upon me as I exited the nest but I never suspected he knew it was there. “You knew it was a gargoyle nest?”
He shrugs. “It’s not the first one I’ve encountered. You can use my help, Marbella. So can Baelen. He made me promise, right from that first trial, that I wouldn’t let any harm come to you. I’m not going to break my promise to him. Let me come with you.”
He stares at me with earnest eyes. He kept me alive on Scepter Peak—we kept each other alive. I wasn’t expecting help, didn’t think I needed it, but where I’m headed I know I’m going to need it. Besides, he’s really not going to budge and he’s blocking the door. “I guess I can take one more. Follow me, please.”
Baelen floats along beside me as I reach the doors. I’m not sure what Jasper makes of that, but I’m hoping he thinks I’m using the storm’s power to move Baelen on my own. It’s close to the truth.
I pause there for a moment. Behind me, all the people I love—my family—are taking care of each other, preparing to leave, preparing to go into hiding. My heart tugs with the knowledge that I’m about to leave them, but I’m determined that I’ll see them again. I will come back and end the Elven Command’s reign over them.
I step out into the light with the Storm and Jasper on my heels.
The Phoenix waits for me, its wings tucked in at its sides, taking up all of the space across the wide cobbled path.
Princess, it greets me.
“Thank you for helping me, Phoenix.”
I gesture to Jasper to get on the Phoenix’s broad back and then turn to the Storm, keeping my voice low. “Please tell me you can tether Baelen to the Phoenix.”
“Of course,” she says. “I’ll do it this once, but I can teach you how to do it yourself. That way it will look less strange to your friend.”
“Thank you. And his name is Jasper.”
The Storm floats Baelen up onto the Phoenix’s back beside Jasper and a thin line of lightning appears around Baelen like a silver rope. The Phoenix spreads its wings to allow the lightning to stretch all around its body, keeping Baelen in place. It’s a good thing the bird is so enormous given that it’s about to carry three of us.
“He won’t fall,” the Storm promises. “The Phoenix has melded with the lightning so it’s practically part of its own body.” She lifts off the ground. “I will ride the wind. I’m ready when you are.”
I climb on behind Baelen, placing his head in my lap and my hand over his heart, listening for the calm, slow thump of his heartbeat.
I vow to you, Baelen Rath, I will bring you back to me.
I don’t know what Erador holds for me, but I will find the springs and heal Baelen. No matter what it takes.
The Phoenix contemplates me with fiery eyes, spreading its wings and preparing to take flight. Where do you wish to go, Princess?
“To Erador,” I say. “To the gargoyles.”
Epilogue - Grayson Glory
Gideon’s body is heavy in my arms. Somehow I force myself to function, scooping him up from where he lies, still bloody, on the empty arena floor.
His eyes are closed. His hair drapes across my arms. I can touch him for the first time in my life, but only because he’s already dead. The wound in his side is a gash that has torn my world apart. Anger burns deep inside me but it’s like a lash uncoiling, a whip that will unfurl before it snaps.
Clutching Gideon to my chest, I draw on my power, close my eyes, and then… I’m gone from the arena, transporting myself back to Glory land in milliseconds.
In the next instant, I open my eyes to the immaculate gardens that surround the cage I call my home. I stumble along the stone path through a copse of trees until I reach the end of the garden. There the path stops, but I keep carrying Gideon along the rough track hewn through the forest that sits behind my home.
Moonlight flickers through the creaking branches above me, the darkness enveloping me.
I don’t care if I trip. A fall would be a welcome relief to the pain that churns inside me. Gideon’s body is far too light in my arms. He should be heavy, should be a burden.
I told him I had his back.
My foot catches on a tree root and I crash to the ground, landing hard on my knees, pain cracking through my legs. It billows up through my chest, an overpowering surge.
I hated Gideon. Argued with him. Relied on him. He lied to me constantly but not always. He was the only certainty in my life. He was the one who spoke for me before I could speak for myself. I sometimes wished him dead, but I never wanted it to happen.
I tip my head back and roar into the dark night, letting go of the hold I keep on my power. It washes out from me in a ripple of burning heat. The debris beneath me catches alight and the trees burst into flames. Fire roars out from me in a circle, incinerating everything in its path until it burns itself out just as quickly.
I’m left kneeling in a clearing filled with ash, the trees burned to mere stumps for fifty paces all around me.
Placing Gideon’s body on the ground, I begin to dig with my bare hands in the dirt, opening a grave for him.
With every handful of dirt, I remind myself: Marbella Mercy did this.
She did this.
Wherever she runs to, wherever she hides… I will find her.
Storm Princess 2
The Princess Must Strike
The Princess Must Strike
Storm Princess Saga
Book Two
Everly Frost and Jaymin Eve
Copyright © 2018 by Everly Frost and Jaymin Eve
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the authors except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental.
Frost, Everly
Eve, Jaymin
The Princess Must Strike
&nb
sp; For information on reproducing sections of this book or sales of this book, go to
www.JayminEve.com or www.EverlyFrost.com
[email protected]
[email protected]
To everyone who takes a difficult journey for someone you love. May you conquer every mountain.
Prologue - Cassian of the Hideaway Clan
Ten Years Ago
Sunlight flickers through the quiet forest as I carry my prey along the well-worn path. The heavy sack hangs across one shoulder and bounces at my back in a worrying beat. I’m not sure what to make of the creature I found creeping through the forest behind the palace. I killed it when it attacked me, but I’m hoping the King’s guard will have answers.
The path lets out to a still lake and continues along beside the water until it reaches Crimson Court—the meeting place where the King greets visiting leaders from the gargoyle clans.
Movement ahead makes me pause. A majestic cherry blossom grows at the water’s edge and a female kneels beneath it. She takes my breath away every time I’m lucky enough to see her.
Her hair cascades across her shoulder, the color of a crimson sunset, its strands dipping into the water as she leans out across the surface. Her translucent wings flutter in the breeze, catching the light and making the air around her sparkle. She stretches out, trying to reach a water lily that floats on the surface of the lake.
I hide a smile as she strains forward, only to nudge the flower… and bump it farther away. It spins slowly as it floats beyond her reach.
Her disappointed “Oh!” reaches my ears.
An empty basket rests beside her. The cherry blossom tree isn’t in bloom and it looks like flowers are in short supply today.
As she rights herself, palms pressed against her thighs, I leave the sack and its gruesome contents beside the path to quietly cross the distance, careful to appear in her line of sight without startling her.
I stop at the water’s edge a respectful distance away from where she sits. “May I help you, Elaina?”
She looks up, her bright eyes a pale cornflower blue that steals my breath away. Her lips curve into a smile that makes my heart skip multiple beats. “That’s okay, Cassian. I don’t think anyone can reach it now.”
“Why don’t I try anyway?” I press my lips together, suppressing my smile as I kneel beside her, still maintaining a respectful distance.
Very carefully, so I don’t alarm her, I release my left wing, stretching it out across the water.
Her eyes grow wide as my wing continues to unfold, revealing its unusual size. Light grey patterns ripple through it, bright in the sunlight, even though my wings are impossibly dark.
I rarely have reason to unfold my wings in front of anyone, let alone Elaina. Unlike the King’s soldiers, I seldom fly anywhere. I was born into the Hideaway Clan, the lowest of the low. The Royal Residence is my home, but I am no prince. My job is to sweep floors, dust furniture, and disappear into the background, unseen. It’s only out here on the outskirts of the palace that I can stand tall.
I tip my wing and scoop the flower from the water, carefully retracting it with the flower inside. Close enough now, I scoop up the lily before it’s crushed between the folds of my wing. I hold the flower out to Elaina in both my palms.
She doesn’t take it, her eyes intently searching mine.
I don’t mind. I could happily drown in them. She’s from the Virtuous Clan, so far beyond my reach. Her parents are ambassadors for her clan and live permanently in the palace, but for some reason, she doesn’t seem to mind my company. I’ve heard that elves are different, but in gargoyle culture, our females choose their mate and not the other way around. It’s up to me to prove that I’m worthy of her choice.
We are both sixteen and she won’t make a choice until she’s eighteen. I hope that I have a chance when the time comes.
“Cassian,” she breathes. “You have Hideaway’s wings.”
My ancestor—the gargoyle from whom my Clan derives its name—was said to have wings that were large enough to hide others inside them, reflecting the light so he was completely camouflaged against any rock face.
He was legendary, whereas I am… ordinary.
Her lips part as she inhales, her breathing soft. “Nobody has had wings like Hideaway in centuries.”
I clear my throat, soaking up her gaze, not wanting it to end. “They come in handy sometimes. Such as for retrieving flowers.”
She reaches for the lily, her right hand carefully lifting it while her left closes over mine, surprising me when she holds on to me. Her hand is much smaller than mine and I marvel at the way her fingers only reach halfway across my palm.
“Do you think…” A smile grows on her face, a hint of intensity entering her eyes as she leans forward. “Do you think you could fly me above the tree line?”
My heart jumps. She can fly herself above the trees. That she would ask me to fly her anywhere is a gesture of incredible trust.
I manage to speak. “Of course. I would be honored.”
She swiftly deposits the flower into her basket and leaves it on the ground as she rises to her feet, the breeze wafting her sky-blue dress around her long legs. I’m amazed when she slips out of her shoes, steps onto my feet, tucks her wings tightly to her sides, and wraps her arms around my waist, pressing her head to my chest. All without a second’s hesitation.
She is so delicate; she hardly weighs anything.
Flying a female requires that I wrap one arm around her waist and the other across her hips. It’s a very personal position to be in, which is why I’m stunned that she would ask me.
Very carefully, in case she changes her mind, I slide my arm around her waist first. I pause. Wait. Hold my breath as I slip my other arm across her hips, beneath her bottom.
She tilts her head back to meet my eyes. “Up?”
I spread my wings, extending them to their full width, sweep them, and then we rush upward. I sense her quick inhale, her cheek pressing to my chest again as we become weightless, soaring above the treetops within milliseconds. I can’t help but grin. My wings make my flight faster than most gargoyles.
I steady us there, keeping my wing beats constant, maintaining our position without rising any higher. It’s important that she remains in control of our movements. The moment she wants to return to the ground, I’ll lower us down.
She gradually relaxes, her arms loosening a little, trusting me not to let her fall while her wings are closed. Erador stretches out beneath us—the sparkling lake that turns into a waterfall in the very far distance, cascading off the side of the mountain on which the palace is built, while Crimson Court rests farther to our left near the Royal Residence that is hewn out of the mountain itself.
After a long moment, Elaina tilts her head back. “What would you do if you hadn’t been born into the Hideaway Clan?”
I consider the question carefully. Wishing for things that can never be is folly, but because she asked me, I want to answer truthfully. “I would join the King’s guard.”
She gives me a small nod. “You’re already stronger than most of the soldiers. My father says that when you’re of age, the King will offer you a place in his personal guard.”
“What?” I can’t help the exclamation.
Her smile grows wide. “Everyone knows about it, Cassian. Why don’t you believe it?”
I shake my head. “Because I’m…”
“Hideaway Clan.” She nods. “But think about it. The King allowed a gargoyle from the Grievous Clan into his personal guard. He recognizes skill when he sees it. Why shouldn’t he recognize yours?”
I press my lips together, trying to conceal my disbelief. I’m nothing more than a servant to the King. It’s very difficult to believe that I will ever be anything more.
Her gaze settles on my lips in a way that confuses me.
She speaks very softly. “You’re always so helpful and polite to me, Cassian. But… I would appreciate it if sometimes�
� you were not so polite.”
Her eyes rise to mine, a question in them, but I don’t know what it means or what she wants from me. I frown as I try to decipher the curve of her lips.
She reaches up and smooths her fingertips across my creased forehead. “There. That’s better.”
She rises up, and I sense her bare feet arch as she reaches up onto her tiptoes, her thighs pressed against mine, seeking to gain height. I freeze as she rises as far as she can, stops, and gives me a perplexed look, and I suddenly wonder if…
I lift the arm that supports her bottom, pulling her higher so we are eye height. Her fingertips that lingered across my forehead shift to rest against the back of my neck. She carefully presses her cheek to mine.
“Cassian,” she whispers, her soft lips so close that her sweet breath whispers across my mouth. “I will choose you, no matter what.”
My heart is suddenly… too happy, too full. I inhale her scent and my head fills with lilies and cherry blossoms and beneath it, the strong moral scent of her Clan. Virtuous gargoyles are the most compassionate and empathetic and Elaina is more than others. She is the first to help a child with a skinned knee, serve tea to the old females, and make sure others have what they need before she thinks about herself. In combat training, she never fails to help her opponent back up to their feet.
She brushes her lips across mine, the lightest touch that sends my senses into overdrive. I want more, want to tangle my hands in her hair and taste her mouth, but I control my emotions. Giving me a kiss is a precious gift and I don’t want to break this moment.
“Cassian.” She sighs, shaking her head slowly side to side, her lips brushing mine at the same time. “So polite.”
I can’t help the smile that breaks across my face. “Hmm,” I say, running my hand up her back to her neck, my fingertips sliding into her hair as my palm supports her upper back and my wings beat gently. “Maybe not.”