The Passionate Queen (Dark Queens Book 2)

by Jovee Winters

  There was not a trace of the boy I’d once known and loved in the man he now was.

  I tapped my fingers impatiently on the armrest, waiting for Dru to get on with it already.

  I wasn’t sure I could handle too much more of this waiting.

  She walked in the manner associated with her station; as personal handmaiden, she was the second most powerful woman in wonderland.

  Always aware of my moods, she finally stepped forward and silenced the excited chatter amongst the men with but a mere flick of her wrist.

  “Welcome, landian males.” Dru’s voice carried strongly (aided by magical spells embedded within the very stones of the castle that helped amplify sound). “As you are no doubt aware, by the terms and rules of our people, the queen has declared herself eligible to be courted.”

  Immediately the men began talking again, their voices rising in pitch so furiously that they drowned out Dru’s words, even with the aid of our magical stones. Tightening my jaw, I released some of my power.

  I could feel how weak I was, how my body trembled and my skin coated with a thick layer of sweat to do it. How hard it was to focus the beam of that strike against the masses.

  “Quiet!” I thundered then fought not to sag with relief against my throne and wilt from the deep-seated exhaustion now lacing my bones.

  I trembled, and my thigh muscles quaked as I struggled to hold my head erect. No one noticed how much that spell had cost me. No one, save for one male dragonborne who now stood erect and on the balls of his feet, and his nostrils sniffing the air. I knew he scented my weakness, scented just how much it’d cost me to perform that pathetic bit of magic.

  Magic that would have been as simple as taking a breath for me was when Charles had worn the ring.

  But weak as I was, the men had stopped their talking, looking up at me with expectant awe.

  Druscella curtsied in my direction. “My queen,” she said with great earnestness, “my thanks. Now”—she lifted her chin, looking just as regal as royalty should, even though she was as commonborn as I was—“there are but a few rules, and should any of you break them, you’ll be immediately terminated.”

  Several of the males grabbed at their necks, and I fought not to cringe at Dru’s choice of words. There’d been far too many “off with their heads” in my past, and this new period in wonderland was about turning over a new leaf.

  I cleared my throat delicately.

  “That is to say,” Dru pressed on hurriedly not a second later, “that you would forfeit your opportunity as consort and be escorted from the castle grounds.”

  Immediately I sensed a collective exhalation from the crowd.

  “Secondly, if you’ve a magical nature, you may not,” she stressed, “use your talents unless within the company of the queen, and only if she allows its use.”

  I knew without even having to look, that she’d looked at Ragoth when she’d said it. I almost smiled at that. The dragon would not be able to eat his rivals—if he lasted a day that was. I had plans to release him posthaste.

  “Thirdly, the queen will not have final say in choice of suitors—”

  I couldn’t help but gasp. I almost jumped from my throne, ready to flail her alive for her treachery. To do this before the crowd, where she knew I could not overrule her for propriety’s sake. My nails clawed grooves into the colored glass. Dru would hear an earful tonight.

  “One by one and in single file, you may approach the queen’s throne. Each of you will have ten minutes to prove to the queen why you are the obvious choice to be her new suitor.”

  It took everything I had not to get up and run away. This parade of men was a foul joke, and I knew in my heart did nothing to improve my reputation among my people. It wasn’t so much that I was looking for a mate that would bother them, but the pomp and grandeur of this event. Once upon a time, I would not have cared what anyone thought of my methods; the burn of shame had been extinguished the moment the heavy crown had been placed on my head.

  My anger, resentment, and hopelessness had killed off whatever goodness had remained to me, and it hadn’t been until Alerid’s death that I’d been forced to confront the ugliness of my heart. And I did not like what I saw.

  But without my magic, I was not a powerful enough queen to defend my people and this realm, so I’d not fought Dru on any of this. I reminded myself to sit still and pretend that all was still well with the world, even while my heart stuttered and trembled violently within me.

  “May the fates be with you.” Dru ended her recital with a quick curtsey, then stood to the side and drew out her arm in a silent gesture for the proceedings to commence, and I felt so numb.

  “My queen.” The male I’d noticed earlier, the one with the hawk-like tendencies, was the first to approach me. Up close I could see the splendor of his clothing and jewels; this was a man of no small means.

  I’d expected beggars and thieves, and those greedy for the crown and power. This male clearly was not in need of money, so maybe it was power for him.

  But his bow was deep and obeisant, and when he reached for my hand, there was a deferential and respectful manner to it.

  I narrowed my eyes, reexamining my initial impression of the male. He smiled again, and this time mine was sincere.

  He really did have a nice-looking face, with just the right smattering of freckles dusting the bridge of his hawkish nose.

  “What is your name?” I asked, truly curious.

  Giving my hand one final quick squeeze, he released it and pressed an arm to his middle. “I am called Icarus of Madrigar.”

  Madrigar, I knew that realm. It was the place where Alerid had hailed from. More than just a little curious now, I nodded thoughtfully.

  “Indeed.”

  There was a nice quality to his voice. Velvety, yet also steely. Like Ragoth, he too was far more masculine than most of the males here. There was no face paint to speak of on him. It was...refreshing. I lifted a brow. “When was the last time you flew past the sun?”

  His full lips stretched wider. My heart did not beat out of my chest for him, but there was something about Icarus of Madrigar I found myself enjoying.

  Laughing deeply, he winked. “Only just.” And then I gasped when from behind his back a pair of majestic snow-white wings (like that of a giant snow owl) spread out. They were thick and looked heavy; each feather beckoned me to touch it and see if its downy appearance was more than simple aesthetics.

  “Turn for me,” I commanded, unable to resist the temptation of running my fingers through his feathers.

  He turned slowly, giving me a glimpse of him from each angle. He was very sturdily built, not ripping with muscle, but powerful. I blinked when he knelt before me. The stitching of his fabric was ingenious the way the slits at his back had been so well hidden, but opened when his wings needed room to come out.

  I traced the line of one feather, stopping the moment I heard his harsh inhalation of breath.

  “Thank you.” I curled my hands into my lap. The feather had been gloriously soft and clearly a sensitive part of his body.

  Standing, he dusted off his pants, gave me a kind smile, and bowed once more. Dru was keeping an eye on the timepiece hanging on the wall behind me. Which meant I likely still had a few more minutes left with him.

  “Icarus—”

  “You may call me, Ic, if you’d like, my queen.”

  I smiled and gently shrugged. “Ic, if you’d like. Tell me, what is it that you most enjoy doing, besides flying?”

  This time when he grinned I spied a slight trace of a dimple in his cheek.

  And then as if by magic, my eyes turned in Ragoth’s direction, and I knew that no matter how much I might enjoy Icarus, he failed to inspire even a tenth of the emotion in me I felt when I merely glanced at my dragonborne.

  The way I suddenly felt hot and cold when his sea-glass eyes latched onto mine. And the foolish need I suddenly felt to have him rush up these stairs and snatch me up the way he ha
d two weeks ago and fly us off forever.

  I was still angry with him, damn that insufferable beast. But my heart was a traitorous thing beating within me.

  But fantasy wasn’t reality. I could never leave my people, and Ragoth was entirely too debilitating to me. I could hear Icarus talking. And I wanted desperately to give him my full attention, but even with my gaze back on his, all my heart kept thinking was...maybe fate had conspired so that what should have been long ago finally was now.

  And maybe...maybe he was the reason why Dru would not let me pick, because she knew I’d be too weak to him. A dragon could never run this kingdom; the people would not allow it. Would they?

  But would they maybe not also feel safe with a dragon guarding wonderland? What could come against us then?

  “My queen?”

  The way Icarus said my title made me start guiltily. The slight harried note of it made it seem as though he’d been calling my name for a while now. His face was screwed up in contemplation, and his perpetual smile nearly absent now.

  I shook my head, giving him a wide-eyed stare. “Oh, I...”

  Dru, bless her, spared me further humiliation. “Your time is up, shifter male. Tomorrow results will be proclaimed. Good day to you.”

  It was a trial not to lose my composure when he took my hand gently and placed a tender kiss against the top of it.

  “I do hope we get to engage in further discourse, my queen.”

  And then just like that, sweet Icarus took his leave.

  Thoroughly discombobulated and upset at myself for letting my mind wander into thoughts of Ragoth, yet again, I was determined to make a better impression with my next potential suitor.

  He was tall, with a full head of black hair and piercing green eyes. His face was almost so perfect as to be beautiful. He wasn’t as powerfully built as Icarus had been, more lean. No doubt his body was a fine work of beauty beneath his clothing.

  “Queen,” he drawled with the deep bass typical of the Southern landians. His full lips pressed a hot, wet kiss to the meat of my thumb, and I startled when I felt a flick of tongue trace against it.

  “What the bloody he—”

  The ass dared to press a finger to my lips, shushing me.

  And I was tempted, dear gods was I tempted, to shrill for the guards and tell them, “Off with his head!” But I didn’t. Instead I chewed on my tongue, growing more and more angry with each minute that passed.

  “My name is Emmanuel. You may call me Emmanuel,” he purred, lifting a dark, shaggy brow and giving me a horrible come-hither look. “I am the son of a tea baron and am great friends with the Mad Hatter and his wife Alice—”

  Oh, I doubted that very much. I knew Hatter and his Alice (sort of) and those two didn’t strike me at all as the type to put up with this pompous, arrogant prick before pitching him out on his pretty little ass into a deep pile of dingle wolf scat.

  I heard a faint snicker and glanced up just in time to see Ragoth pressing his lips together tight. I wanted to choke him.

  Drumming my fingers on my armrest, I glared at Dru, willing the time to move quicker than it was. When the ten minutes finished, I barked, “Go away.”

  Emmanuel gave me wide eyes. “But, my queen, at least let me kiss you farewell.”

  Nostrils flaring, I ground down on my molars. If I’d had just a little more magic left to me now, I’d have tossed him from me. “No, you may not. Go away, I loathe you. Next!”

  And so it continued, on and on and on. A constant tide of swimming fish, giving me empty praise and platitudes. Very few were as genuine as Ic’s had been. Most were just airheaded beefcakes (which, I supposed, was my doing), but good goddess.

  A few had powers that were interesting. One could turn anything to gold with a mere touch of his finger. Midas, if I recall. He’d shown me his delightful gift by forever ruining the hem of my gown. He was on my short list of those I wished to maim if I ever found myself alone with him in a darkened alley.

  Making gold was a useful power, to be sure, but I could easily see him making power grabs for my throne down the line. I was none too sure about that one.

  There’d been another, Jonas, who’d told me of his ability to call forth unusual and rare creatures from the forests surrounding us. But, he’d said, he’d have to talk me out into the woods personally to demonstrate. He’d piqued my interest if for no other reason than that I wished to someday see a unicorn up close.

  But apart from a few of what felt like a limitless smorgasbord of men, most of them were either heavy-handed peacocks or entirely dull and dim-witted.

  The sun had set long ago when Ragoth (very last in line) finally made his appearance.

  I hated that I could not seem to stop trembling or that his velvety scent of fire and brimstone cradled me in an intoxicating embrace.

  His blue-green eyes sparkled with laughter when he bowed before me. “My queen.”

  I shivered. The heat of his words whipped through my veins like molten lava. I wanted to slap him and kiss him senseless, but all I could do was notch my chin higher. If I spoke now, if I even said a word, I was afraid of what I might do, what I might say.

  Dru cleared her throat as if to hurry me along. I was really going to flay her tonight.

  “I am not your queen.”

  I wasn’t really sure why those words had popped out of my mouth, though they were technically true. Ragoth belonged to an entirely different world than mine. To use my title in that way felt far too intimate.

  “Not yet. But you will be.”

  Thinning my lips, I gave him a frosty glare. I couldn’t deny the vexing cave-woman side of me didn’t seem to care that the man before me was a cad. A heartless, cruel beast of a man. I wanted him. Sexually. In every way possible. I wanted to pull the leather thong out of his long black hair, I wanted to claw my fingers across his skull, down his spine, until his back bowed and his flesh bled. I wanted raw, animalistic, violent sex.

  I also wanted to throttle him. Wanted to hurt him for the things he’d said to me the day before, for leaving me behind as he had.

  His irises flared as he leaned in close to my side, whispering hotly in my ear. “Lena, are you well?”

  I heard the chatter amongst my servants, the intake of breath from Dru when Ragoth gently rubbed his knuckles down my cheek. A male was touching me, in public. For all the world to see. Intimacy of any kind was simply not done in this castle. Not with me anyhow.

  Charles had always had his paramours—as I’d had mine—but he’d been much more demonstrative with his. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, clamping down so hard as to nearly draw blood. The sharp bite of pain helped center and focus my thoughts on something other than ripping the snow-white vest off his powerfully built body and nipping and licking my way down the corded contours of his abdominals.

  Turning my head sharply, so as to force him to stop touching me, I masked my desire with fury. “Do not touch me, boy, lest you feel my wrath.”

  His smile made my pulse thunder. “I am no boy. As you well know. Listen well, my Lena. I was wrong with you before. But I am here to make things right. I told you long ago that you were mine. What I failed to tell you though, was that just as you belonged to me, I belonged to you. You are the very best parts of me, and I aim to make myself whole again. Have your little games, your bit of fun, but when this is all said and done, this dragon has spoken. And what a dragon wants, a dragon always gets.”

  Then with a quick but firm press of his lips to my cheek, he bowed once more, turned, and acknowledged Dru—the first of the bunch to do so—and turning on his heel, walked regally away from me.

  I could not move for a full five minutes after he’d left. I sat in that throne room, alone save for my servants, and had to fight not to weep bitter tears.

  Chapter 10

  Aphrodite

  Calypso and I munched on a bowl of popcorn seasoned with sea kelp, salt, and cowfish butter; it was fishy but yummy. I licked my buttery fingers.
>
  “So, what do you think?”

  I bobbed along the ocean current. Normally, visiting Calypso’s sprawling temple in the below was calm waters, but the elemental goddess was excited and giddy, and her waters reflected it.

  Today she was purely in her elemental form, with parts of the ocean waters being her gown, little fish and colorful eels wrapped around her naughty bits, and her greenish hair flowed in long dangling sea kelp strands.

  Being around Caly always forced me to step up my game; she was ethereally beautiful and made even this diva sometimes feel a little underwhelming. So today I’d come to her dressed in spools of wispy clouds; there was a foggy transparency to my gown that shimmered with pinpricks of starlight when I moved. I was lovely to gaze upon, but there was just one problem with my choice of clothing. It was light. Meaning, I had nothing to weigh me down; as a result, I was constantly fighting to stay still, which was a near impossibility in the riptides swirling all around us.

  I found myself turning a bit green around the gills. We’d been sitting on her massive clam-tongue bed, watching the glowing see-orb (basically a giant bubble of water magically attuned to the above) that Caly used almost like a TV so that she could keep her eye on the goings on at Zelena’s castle.

  Groaning, I clutched at my stomach, wondering if I was about to lose all the popcorn I’d just been munching on for the past several hours.

  Frowning, Caly studied me with her strange clear-blue eyes. “You look like a green salamander, Dite.”

  “Your waters are rough today.” I said it slowly and kindly, always wise to not get snappy with water; she was prone to wild bouts of temper when she felt threatened. Caly and I were good friends (and I doubted very much she’d drown me at this point in our lives), but I always kept things polite. I’d never forget how she’d nearly brought Olympus to ruins with but a mere snap of her dainty fingers.

  “Oh.” Her eyes widened in shock, and the kelp braid of her “hair” bobbed as she commanded, “Waters be still.”