The Glass Queen

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The Glass Queen Page 29

by Gena Showalter


  Saxon gave a slow nod of his own. A drop of water fell from the ends of his hair and splashed onto my chin. “Yes, that’s correct.”

  “Have you ever...?” Shut your mouth. End this line of conversation. I opened my mouth to snatch back the question. “I mean, I know you did in past lives, but what about this one?”

  Well. So much for snatching back the question. I’d clarified it and asked for added information.

  Again, he nodded. This time, his gaze dropped to my mouth. His attention lingered there, and my flutters returned.

  “With who? No, sorry. That’s none of my business. I mean, what’s it like?” Needing to touch him, I dragged my nails along the center of his chest. “The dryads didn’t entertain, um, gentlemen callers.”

  He radiated stark hunger and looked at me as if I were a last meal. “When done right, it is...consuming. You reach a point where the rest of the world fades and nothing else matters.”

  I wanted the rest of the world to fade. “Do you have any children in this life?” The thought of miniature Saxons running around made my heart leap.

  “No children.” He anchored a fist next to each of my temples and motioned to the bracelets that adorned his wrist. “One is imbued with magic to prevent a lover from conceiving.” Leaning down, he brushed his cheek against mine, as if he needed to touch me, too. Then, he just stopped, lifting his head. “Come. It’s time I returned you to the palace.”

  Heartbeat. “You don’t want to...” Heartbeat. “Be my lover?” Heartbeat, heartbeat, heartbeat.

  His eyes blazed. “I do want to, yes. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. But we won’t take that step until you’re certain you’re ready.”

  I was disappointed. I was grateful. So much was at stake right now, so much uncertain. “I’m not happy about leaving the dragons in the stable without me.”

  “I promise you they’ll remain unharmed. They’ll be shielded by magic. If there is a magical doorway between the secret passage and stable as I requested, you’ll be able to visit the babies anytime you wish, without delay.”

  “How do you afford these magical services, anyway?” Ophelia charged exorbitant prices. “I mean, I know you have the royal avian coffers at your disposal and everything, but that doesn’t mean you should spend your people’s money on personal things.”

  “I spend the money I earned collecting bounties for King Challen.”

  An act of loyalty. My honorable prince.

  My fated. The boy I wanted.

  The man I couldn’t have.

  Lady Leonora had been Craven’s fated one, too. My first incarnation had marked my first possession. Only, Craven hadn’t known or accepted our connection because a part of him had sensed the wrongness of the situation. The phantom had tainted their relationship, and he’d parted with her.

  The same thing had happened with Tyron and Leonora.

  Should I be the one who parted with Craven this time?

  Different path, different ending, right?

  It wasn’t like a separation had to be forever. After I won the war with the phantom—I had to win—I could seek out Saxon again. If he was free...

  As I sat up, he leaned back. I drew my knees to my chest, and snaked my arms around my legs. Without Saxon’s body heat, the cool air quickly chilled my damp skin, and I shivered.

  “You’re a good prince, Saxon, but you’ll be an even better king.” I had some thinking to do. I needed to decipher the rest of the fairy tale—was I missing a clue about how to end the stepmother’s reign?

  “Yes,” I finally told my avian, my tone determined. “Let’s return me to the palace.”

  20

  Merry, merry, be one, be all.

  Soon enough there will be a fall.

  SAXON

  After we dressed in our clean, dry clothes, I whistled to summon the dragons from the woods. They joined us and followed us into the air. I kept Ashleigh in the safety of my arms.

  I would never tire of holding her. My fated.

  My mind shied away from the thought, the implications too vast to explore at the moment. Not ready to go there.

  Usually the princess relaxed against me. This time, she remained quiet, lost in thought. Did she ponder our kiss?

  I did. I couldn’t get my first taste of her out of my mind. So different from Leonora. The witch kissed like she wanted only to please me. Ashleigh kissed like she wanted to please herself, and my enjoyment was secondary, and I loved it. It meant she’d lost herself in the throes and acted solely on instinct—getting her body what it needed.

  I remembered the little mewls of delight she’d uttered, the sweetness of her lips, the rightness of her scent as it teased and tantalized, and I groaned. Our kiss had teemed with possessiveness and ferocity, unlike anything I’d experienced before. I’d felt as if I was drinking pure, undiluted lust straight from the tap, and nothing less would ever satisfy me again. I’d been consumed by Ashleigh, and happier for it.

  When she’d touched my wings of her own volition, I’d nearly burst into flames, my insides nothing but kindling. Frantic need had owned me; I would have eagerly burned. My entire world had suddenly revolved around Ashleigh Charmaine-Anskelisa. True contentment had sparked, making a mockery of everything I’d felt before.

  As the heat inside me had worsened, I’d felt the first sting of amour.

  Still not ready.

  So what had happened there at the end? What had turned her eyes into wounds, making me long to rip out my aching heart and offer it to her?

  We reached the stable, and I was pleased to find Everly and Ophelia had created the gateways as requested. Framed like a full-length mirror anchored to the air, the bridge between two separate locations possessed a jellied center that rippled like water.

  Ashleigh could return to the palace, as planned, and I could meet with Roth and Everly, as needed. The dragons could play without fear of the unknown. Problem was, I wasn’t yet ready to part with my princess. In three lifetimes of pain and misery, she’d given me a glimpse of true peace, and I only craved more.

  How could I let her go, even for a moment?

  Ever?

  She crouched before the dragons, saying, “I must return to the palace, my darlings, but I’d like you to remain at the stable. This is for your safety. The doorway is a no-no unless you’re in danger. Do you understand?”

  Pagan caught a fly with her tongue. Pyre licked Ashleigh’s cheek.

  She was the kind of mother I’d always wished I’d had.

  “I love you so much.” Teary-eyed, she kissed and hugged both dragons, then approached me. Unwilling to meet my gaze, she toyed with the collar of my tunic. “Thank you. For everything.”

  I experienced one of those pangs only she could conjure. “You owe me no thanks, Asha. Today was a reward for me, as well.”

  She opened and closed her mouth, eyes glowing with concern, then resolve. “Saxon?”

  Concerned myself, I said, “Tell me.” Whatever bothered her, I would fix.

  “I had fun with you today. The most fun I’ve had in...ever.”

  I began to relax.

  “But we can’t kiss again,” she finished.

  Denial exploded inside my head. Addict me, then take away my drug of choice? “Why?”

  “You’re part of the tournament, vying for Princess Dior’s hand in marriage.” She stumbled back a step, then another. “It’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to me. Or to you.”

  Before I had time to reply—what could I say without revealing the truth about Roth and Everly?—she shook her head, as if any response would be moot.

  Returning to the spot before me, she rose to her tiptoes and pressed her lips against mine softly. She cupped my cheeks, just as she’d done while we danced. A way I loved, I realized. At first, she held on, saying nothing, as if she were memorizing the fe
el of me.

  “Maybe in our next life, fate will be kinder, eh?” She released me with the saddest smile, then entered the doorway, vanishing from view.

  I stood in place for a long while, spreading and curling my fingers again and again. At last I understood why she’d gone cold during our kiss. The stepsister. A respectful gesture for a girl she’d come to like. But not kiss Ashleigh again? Impossible. And wed Dior? Never. But I couldn’t explain my true purpose for entering the tournament.

  As I made the return flight to my tent, I considered the other obstacles in our path. I planned to dethrone her father—plans I wouldn’t halt. The longer he kept the crown, the faster he destroyed the kingdom. He’d raised taxes twice, offended Violet, Queen of Airaria and Everly’s estranged mother, and verged on war with Azul, his own wife’s homeland, for offering their beloved Dior as a war prize after using their soldiers to take Roth’s kingdom. Selfish Philipp had too much pride and no self-control—a lethal combination.

  Would Ashleigh despise me for overseeing her father’s downfall? I doubt anyone had missed the longing looks she’d cast him upon her return.

  Foreboding pricked the back of my neck, but I shook it off as an ungrounded fear. The king treated her like garbage. He didn’t deserve to be part of her life. I thought she’d already begun to accept this truth, just as I had accepted the truth about Ashleigh, my fated, and Leonora, who was not.

  I could put off thoughts of the amour no longer.

  I’d produced it. It had happened. Ashleigh was my mate, the one I was born to protect and cherish.

  The one I’d been waiting for the whole of my lives.

  The one I’d hurt again and again.

  She’d always been my mate. But the being inside her must have warped the connection. Did that mean Ashleigh was a reincarnate, but the being was not?

  A reincarnate, but not a reincarnate.

  Could someone be cursed to live for centuries? A ghost, perhaps? One who’d targeted my incarnations and possessed my fated ones?

  Could ghosts wield fire magic? Could they be removed and killed?

  Protective instincts surged. I needed to save Ashleigh from this being, whatever the cost.

  I landed at the campground and strode around a wealth of new trees. I marched past my guards, each of whom congratulated me on yesterday’s victory. As I entered my tent, the first thing I noticed was Everly and Roth lying side by side on the pallet. Both were fully clothed. Everly tossed up a grape and caught it with her mouth while Roth continued reading a piece of parchment.

  “Well, well,” she said when she spotted me. She eased into an upright position and offered me a mocking grin. “Look who finally decided to show up for our morning team meeting.”

  “I’m ten minutes early.” I closed the distance and fell between them, careful not to bend my wings.

  “Which means you’re fifty minutes late,” Roth retorted.

  “What time does the test of speed begin?”

  “The king had the master of ceremonies blow his horn through the campground an hour before sunrise to summon you. The first to arrive at the coliseum won.” He snorted. “I wondered why you allowed Milo to have the victory. Now I know. You weren’t here. You were with the princess.”

  I scrubbed a hand over my face. I’d missed this morning’s voluntary test of speed. “What boon did he request of the king?”

  “No one knows.”

  I wasn’t going to let myself worry. I had Noel and Ophelia on my side. They would guard my back.

  “Oh, goodness. Your lips are so puffy, Saxon.” Everly’s tone conveyed exaggerated concern. She batted her lashes at me. “Did someone punch you in the mouth?”

  Tattletale plants. I cast a scornful gaze to Roth, who regarded me with mirth. “Do you happen to have a muzzle handy?”

  My friend snickered. “Why? Are you afraid you can’t keep your lips away from Ashleigh without one?”

  “Yes!” I lifted my arm to peer at the array of bracelets that adorned my wrist. What would happen if I offered Ashleigh the one reserved for my bride, binding us in holy matrimony? Something I wanted more than anything. To wed my fated at last. But how could I even contemplate such a possibility with Leonora in play?

  The avian did not part once they were wed. If the being erased Ashleigh as she’d erased my other fated ones, Leonora would become my wife.

  Must remove and kill her.

  And Ashleigh’s heart? What then?

  Just as before, the question threw me, those protective urges surging with greater intensity. I hissed a curse. As long as Ashleigh needed magic, I could do nothing permanent to Leonora. As long as Ashleigh carried Leonora, my connection to her jeopardized my people and my future. But...

  I couldn’t let her go, either. I might be strong, but I would never have enough strength to cut ties with my princess. A fact I accepted. I’d fought hard to get to this realization, and I didn’t want to fight it, too. I was already fighting the urge to scoop her up and return to our waterfall; it was an itch in the back...center...and forefront of my mind, and it left me raw and desperate.

  We needed to talk, she and I. But first, I needed to figure out my next move. No longer did I plan to have her cursed to an eternal sleep at the end of the tournament. That wasn’t even an option.

  The tournament had reached its last legs, semifinals this week, finals next week.

  Two weeks to go. Fourteen days. An eternity. I wanted to be rid of Philipp now. I wanted Ashleigh to know I had no plans to wed Dior. I wanted Ashleigh at my side as I claimed my new title of king.

  Fourteen days. The next seven would feature more bonus battles, along with the two semifinal rounds. I could survive the end of Noel’s timeline.

  The timeline. The oracle’s warning whispered through my mind and nearly stopped my heart. Let the next three weeks serve as a test. When time is up, there’ll be no more. There’ll be no going back.

  Had she meant there would be no more time...with Ashleigh? With Leonora?

  Sweat beaded on my brow. Fourteen days. A blip, a vapor. I had a mere fourteen days to free Ashleigh from the possible-ghost, without harming her irreparably. Fourteen. Days.

  “What do you know of ghosts?” I asked Everly.

  “That they whine when you don’t find the spirit of their dead boyfriend fast enough. Why?”

  “I think Ashleigh is possessed by one.” As I spoke, some long buried memory fought its way to the surface. Possessed long term...by a spirit born in fire...possessed by a...phantom? A myth from a child’s tale? Unless there was as much misinformation about phantoms as there was about avian, lies purposely fed out to keep the truth from a possible enemy...

  Son of a—“What do you know of phantoms?” I asked Roth.

  He sat up and stared at me. “No. You can’t be thinking... No,” he repeated.

  “What? What’s wrong with phantoms?” Everly threw another grape into her mouth.

  “They are spirits, like ghosts, but they can possess someone for the entire span of their life. Some call them invisible dragons and say they wield power over—” His eyes widened. “Fire.”

  I nodded, certain now. Leonora was a phantom and Ashleigh was possessed. Did Ashleigh know? I thought she might. How deeply I regretted the fact that she didn’t feel she could trust me with her secrets. My fault. Only mine.

  “So you think Ashleigh is possessed by one of these phantoms?” Everly asked.

  “I do.” I racked my brain, hoping to remember any other details I’d heard but finding nothing. “Do you recall a single tale that mentions a way to defeat a phantom?”

  “I don’t,” Roth offered grimly. “I’ll speak with Noel and Ophelia.”

  “Remind her that we have fourteen days to save Ashleigh from Leonora,” I returned, just as grim.

  “All right, enough doom and gloom. Everythi
ng could change in a snap, so fourteen days is forever.” Everly swiped her hands together, case made. “Let’s finish our meeting so you can give yourself a one-armed workout while mooning about your princess, Saxon.”

  I blinked. Rapidly. Had she just implied...?

  Roth burst out laughing. She had. She really had.

  She saluted me, yes, mocking me again. “Here’s the field report, sir. My plants and vines have been picking up chatter at the palace, just not from the king, who is blocking me with magic. I suspect the warlock has created some kind of shield for him. Through servant gossip, I learned the king plans to invite you and the other semifinalists to dinner tonight. Your mother and sister, too. He has news he wants to drop. Oh, and there will be an extra bonus round tonight, something about being the best negotiator. Also, there’s something wrong with him. He’s sick and getting sicker. He blames me, because the warlock blames me, claiming I’m an evil sorceress, so it’s my nature, blah, blah, blah. The king thinks I’m hiding nearby and draining him in order to weaken him so that Roth can steal the kingdom back. I suspect he’s being poisoned.”

  Roth leaned over to collect a handful of grapes from the bowl next to his girl. “Remember how Noel ensured my death in the tournament so that I could do a job for her? She wanted me to follow Milo...who knocked on Ashleigh’s door last night and whispered the phantom’s name.”

  “The warlock is working with Leonora, then. Ashleigh told me she’s been taking over at the night.” What was the phantom’s purpose? I claimed a piece of fruit for myself. “You are no longer a combatant, Roth. You can kill the warlock.”

  “I thought the same. Alas.” Roth gave a mournful sigh. “The oath remains in effect until the tournament’s end.”

  I arched a brow at Everly, all, Up to slaying a warlock?

  “Because of my bond to this guy—” she elbowed Roth in the stomach “—the oath affects me too. But you should know, you’re right on the money about Leonora meeting with Milo. I overheard them speaking at some point.”

  “What did they discuss?” The words burst from me. “Why am I only just now hearing about this?”

 

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