Once Upon a Fairy tale: A Collection of 11 Fairy Tale Inspired Romances

by Danielle Monsch, Cate Rowan, Jennifer Lewis, Jeannie Lin, Nadia Lee, Dee Carney

  A jeweled egg, maybe as long as his middle finger, rolled out of the chest and came to rest next about a meter from Vasalisa.

  Ivan jerked, his muscles reacting to his excitement. This was their chance.

  Koschei whirled, focusing on the egg. His gaze whipped to the pieces of the box, then to Ivan. Something that might have been fear flickered in the depths of his gaze.

  “Vasalisa! The egg!”

  *

  Vasalisa struggled to catch her breath. Her shoulder hurt. Her insides hurt. Nausea was a black, roiling sea inside her.

  What was Ivan saying? She swallowed, forcing herself to focus. Egg. What egg?

  She turned her head. Not far from her was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. The egg wasn’t large, but it was perfectly formed, covered in small rose-cut diamonds. Bisecting the egg horizontally was a thin double gold band.

  Vasalisa blinked at it. She’d seen something like this before, but she couldn’t place it. She reached out, but couldn’t quite touch the egg. She pushed herself to her knees, and her shoulder screamed protest.

  As if the pain kicked her brain into gear, she remembered. Koschei’s life force was in that egg. She dove, snatching the egg and rolling to shield it with her body.

  Behind her, she heard Koschei’s hoarse shout. She had to be fast. There was only one way this might work.

  With the egg tucked under her, she felt the seam and tipped open the catch. Something heavy and rough fell into her hand, and she hurriedly snapped the egg closed.

  Koschei landed beside her and Vasalisa rolled further away, flashing him the egg. His face twisted in fury and he took a step toward her, sabre coming up.

  Masha dove at him, her talons scraping along Koschei’s head and neck.

  Behind Koschei, she could see Ivan struggling to move. What had Koschei done to him?

  Koschei swung wildly with the sabre, but Masha dug her talons into his wrist, crushing the bones. He dropped the sabre, but swung around to punch the firebird with his other fist. Masha dropped, stunned. Koschei rose, running a hand down to heal his wrist as he stalked toward Vasalisa.

  Vasalisa kicked backwards, getting more distance. Her hips dragged over the rubble at the edge of the ward circle. She didn’t have any weapons. She couldn’t use magic in the castle. How in the name of the Goddess was she going to break the jewel holding Koschei’s life force?

  At the top of the steps, Ivan’s determined face appeared at floor level. He was dragging himself on his arms, belly crawling over shards of broken stone to get to her.

  Her heart sank. If he couldn’t stand, they had no way to win. Her best option was to distract Koschei, to give Ivan time to heal enough to stand. How was she going to do that?

  A shard of marble stabbed into the hand holding the figure from the egg. She shuddered. One more pain added to an incalculable number of others.

  Koschei held out a hand. “Give me the egg.”

  She shook her head. She used a slanted chunk of marble to push herself upright. She darted her eyes right, to Masha. She was trying to straighten a wing, but Koschei’s punch had broken a bone. No help there.

  Koschei followed her glance. Vasalisa heaved the egg left, sailing it past Koschei.

  Koschei caught the movement and whipped his attention back to her, then around to follow the egg.

  Vasalisa watched in stunned surprise as the egg landed on the throne. What were the odds?

  Koschei grinned and started toward the steps.

  Ivan grunted, dragging himself into an intercept.

  Vasalisa looked down at the object in her hand. A rabbit of gold, inlaid with hundreds of tiny jewels, hinged at the tail. She flipped open the bejeweled box. Inside was a pearl the size of her thumbnail. The smooth ovoid shape and lustrous ivory sheen was more egg-like than the egg itself.

  Pearl in hand, she dropped the rabbit. Breathing heavily, she stumbled to one of the halves of the iron chest. Placing the pearl on a flat piece of marble, Vasalisa braced her feet. This was going to burn.

  Firming her jaw, she grabbed the iron and lifted it. The metal burned her hands, pain scalding from her fingers and palms. Her still-healing internal organs sloshed together in protest. Nausea rose, clogging her throat. She was going to vomit.

  Get it done, get it done, she chanted.

  Raising the iron above her head, her arms trembled and her fingers fought to let go. She ignored the searing pain and took a deep breath.

  She put every bit of her strength into smashing the iron down onto the pearl.

  The iron landed on the pearl, crushing it to dust. It was the last thing Vasalisa saw before the pain engulfed her and the blackness took over.

  *

  Ivan gritted his teeth and used his elbows to drag himself forward. The bits of marble and debris cut into him, but he couldn’t let that matter. He had to keep Koschei from the egg. His body was healing, but it wasn’t fast enough.

  Koschei ignored him, focused solely on the egg. Ivan lunged, wrapping his arm around Koschei’s ankle.

  The sorcerer stumbled, then tried to kick Ivan off. Ivan tightened his grip and hung on. Every moment was another chance for a miracle, and they needed one to defeat Koschei.

  Koschei lifted his hands, preparing to launch another magical blow. Ivan braced, prepared to endure.

  The blow never came. Instead, Koschei rocked back, as if he’d been hit by a giant hand.

  Seizing the opening, Ivan jerked Koschei’s foot out from under him, and the sorcerer toppled to the floor.

  He didn’t stop to question his good fortune, instead rolling on top of the sorcerer to keep him pinned. Ivan settled his knees on Koschei’s hands, effectively short circuiting the magic.

  Ivan paused, arrested by the strange expression on Koschei’s face. A split-second later, Koschei’s eyes snapped into focus, glaring up at Ivan.

  “What now? You can’t kill me, and if you move, I’ll kill you.”

  “Wrong, sorcerer.” Ivan reached down, one hand under Koschei’s jaw, the other behind his head. A quick upward twist and he heard the ringing crack of the vertebra. He slid the head slightly to the side to ensure the spinal cord was severed before pushing himself off. “Try to kill me now.”

  Koschei spit a curse, but it had no magic behind it.

  In a few minutes, Koschei’s spine would heal enough for him to move his arms and use his magic. Ivan tried his legs. Still not enough muscle control to walk. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself back across the floor to his sword.

  Grabbing the pommel, he pulled it to him, then froze.

  Below him, in the shattered remains of the circle, Vasalisa lay in a crumpled heap. His heart stopped. Everything in him went absolutely cold. The fury seeped into the cold, and suddenly his legs could move.

  He let the fury carry him, staggering back the few steps to stand over Koschei. He’d seen the dust under the iron, seen the charred flesh of Vasalisa’s hands. Koschei was no longer Deathless.

  He raised the sword.

  “Wait! I can—”

  Ivan watched dispassionately as Koschei’s head rolled to the side. His arms ached from the recoil of the blade hitting the floor below. Blood coated Ivan’s sword and spurted out onto the floor, spreading in a red pool. One heartbeat. Two.

  Remembering what Baba Yaga said, he split Koschei’s body, spilling his organs. Ivan curled his lip, but used his sword to skewer Koschei’s heart and pull it away from the other remains.

  Then the magic knocked him down.

  Like the shockwave of an explosion, the magic smashed through him and out into the room. It burned as it went through, remaking his muscles and tearing new pathways in his own magic. He felt the shift, but didn’t know what it might mean.

  Struggling for breath, Ivan turned his head. The form that had been Wolf was now a naked male, with an equally naked female next to him. And Vasalisa moved. Her hands were completely healed, no traces of the black and red streaks of charred flesh from the iron.

/>   She lifted her head, met his eyes. Slowly, she pushed herself to standing and took a tentative step toward him.

  He rolled to his feet, feeling amazingly good. The magic had healed him completely. Without a thought, he dropped his sword and leapt down the steps.

  She was alive. Koschei was dead. They had won.

  Chapter Twelve

  ‡

  Vasalisa sat on the edge of her bed in the tower. It was the end of a long day, and tomorrow they would leave.

  After Ivan had done as Baba Yaga had directed, Vasalisa had burned each piece to ash. It was the first thing she did. She hadn’t really believed he was dead until he was ash and gone.

  They’d burned the cloth that had held the box, sending up a token for Bone Shaker.

  They’d gone through the castle, freeing the dozen or so prisoners they found. All, like the seer Berian, were Evenki who had been kept mainly because their magic wasn’t compatible with Koschei’s, but he’d wanted it.

  Ivan shut the door to her room behind him. He studied her solemnly. “I thought you were dead.”

  Vasalisa smiled. “No, just unconscious. The iron burns were too much.”

  His face clouded and hi lifted her hands in his. He placed a gentle kiss in first one palm, then the other.

  “Thank you. You thought quickly and saved us all by releasing Koschei’s life force from the pearl.”

  She shrugged. “You retrieved it.”

  “That was not so difficult, all things considered. I think Babushka made it as easy as possible.”

  “Yes, Babushka.” She shook her head. “Crazy man, going to see Baba Yaga to get a horse.”

  “It worked, did it not?”

  Gullfaxi had reappeared in the inner courtyard of the castle, unharmed, after Koschei’s death. Their best guess was that he’d decided to go under the wendigo ditch and the magic in the earth had slowed him. It was frankly astonishing that he’d reappeared at all.

  “It did.”

  “That’s done now. You’re free.”

  “True.” She was nervous. She was glad he was holding her hands, because she was afraid they might be trembling.

  “You’ll go back to the Rus and depose your aunt.” He sounded so certain.

  She nodded. “She needs to go.”

  “No disagreement from me.”

  “Wolf and Masha are going home tomorrow,” Ivan told her abruptly.

  “Yes. Masha told me. I invited them to join me at Court.”

  Ivan smiled slightly, his hands tightening on hers. “I owe much to Masha. If she hadn’t wanted to help you, she wouldn’t have stolen my father’s apples, and I wouldn’t have begun this quest.”

  “I think she counts it even, since without you, she and Vanya wouldn’t be back in their true forms and heading home tomorrow.”

  Ivan lifted a shoulder.

  They stared at each other for a long moment. She knew he wanted to spend the night with her. After their time in the dreamscape, it wasn’t something she could ignore. The fact that he wasn’t just assuming she’d welcome him physically was…sweet.

  “I want to kiss you,” he said quietly. “I want to make love with you and fall asleep with you in my arms. I want to wake up beside you. I want to be with you while I’m awake.”

  Arousal bloomed within her at his words. She wanted that, too.

  “Ivan. I would never have allowed the things we did in dreams if I didn’t want to do them in reality. So, yes. Come to bed.”

  He did.

  *

  Ivan handed Vasalisa down from Gullfaxi. Hours of riding had left him aroused but utterly relaxed. The feel of her body pressed back against him, the silken caress of her hair against his cheek, the sweet, hot smell of her skin, all of it combined to give him a bone-deep sense of contentment. He hadn’t realized he was so restless, so unsettled, until he’d found her. The drive to find her, to save her, to hold her had been stronger than anything he’d ever felt, and now he understood why. She was his mate, his match in every way.

  Unbound by Koschei, her magic was strong, nearly the exact opposite of his. Where his magic was ice and cold, hers was fire and heat. Both were destructive, both were strong battle magics. And he had no doubt that Vasalisa’s will was more than a match for him.

  He grinned down at her. More than a match for anyone.

  “What are you thinking of, Vanushka?”

  He loved that she had a pet name for him.

  “I was thinking that you’re the strongest person I know, and that I can’t wait for you to meet my father. He was previous holder of that position.”

  “My magic isn’t so strong. Many of the elders have much stronger magic. My brothers have stronger magic.”

  “I didn’t mean magic, though with the new magics, I’m not certain that’s true.” He tightened the arm he had wrapped around her waist. She was still too thin, but she was coming back. He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I meant you. You’re a formidable lady.”

  “You think so? I just do what needs to be done.”

  “Exactly. It doesn’t matter how hard that is, you just get it done.”

  “What about you? You killed the Deathless. Talk about an impossible task.”

  Ivan grunted. “I was just the instrument. I wouldn’t have even made it to the castle without you.”

  “I’m not so sure of that. I think you underestimate your own ability.”

  He shook his head. “No, love, I was holding my own with the wendigo, but without your fire, we wouldn’t have been able to get clear of the ditch. Eventually I would have fallen. It’s humbling to admit that you did most of your own rescuing, but there it is.”

  She pressed into him, wrapping her looping her arms around and cuddling close in his embrace. Warmth filled him as he rested his chin on the top of her head. He could spend forever holding her just like this.

  “I wouldn’t have had the strength to do it if I hadn’t known you were there. We’re stronger together.”

  “I can agree with that.” Abruptly, he realized he wanted to know now. He didn’t want to wait until they got to the Northlands.

  He pushed her back gently, disentangling himself from her.

  Vasalisa turned her head up to him again. “What is it?”

  “Let me take care of Gullfaxi, then we can have some food.”

  “I’ll start tea,” she said slowly, her brows dipping slightly.

  Ivan knew she was puzzled by his pulling back, but he needed to settle his nerves before he approached her. He’d rather take Koschei on again than do this. But this was far more important.

  He walked the horse a bit to cool him down, then brushed him until all traces of sweat were gone. When he hobbled Gullfaxi, the horse gave him a patient look to let him know it wasn’t necessary.

  That done, he turned back to Vasalisa, who had not only started the campfire and the tea, but had set out the food and sleeping pallet.

  She smiled at him. “Tea will be ready in a minute.”

  He knelt beside her, reaching out to trace the line of her cheekbone.

  “I was going to wait. I wanted you to meet my parents, my family. But I don’t want to wait.” He cupped her face in one hand. She smiled uncertainly.

  He wanted this so much. His belly jumped nervously. “Vasalisa, I love you. Will you be my bride?”

  Her lips parted and she blinked slowly up at him. He knew her now, knew she was processing, thinking, analyzing. Even though he knew that he could end up short on that analysis, it made him smile. He dropped his hand from her cheek.

  After a long moment she ran her tongue over her lower lip. Ivan’s cock pulsed interestedly. He ignored it.

  “The Rus don’t often marry. True mates are rare, and the Rus would only marry a true mate.” She paused, studying him.

  He didn’t know what she saw, didn’t know what she was looking for, so he gave her the truth he had. He let his love, his need, his yearning through. He was completely vulnerable to her. If she chose not to
be his wife, it would gut him. But so long as she consented to be with him, he could keep trying. He wouldn’t stop because he knew down to his soul they were true mates. He had only to convince her.

  *

  He looked so solemn. His palm was warm against her cheek, his body solid behind her.

  He had used his strength for her and her people. He had offered himself willingly to endless torture for her. He had held her with tenderness and with passion. He was a bit rash, a bit cocky. The fact that he’d proposed to her on horseback in the middle of nowhere was evidence of that impulsiveness.

  The connection between them, though, was still tenuous. She was nearly certain he was her true mate, but they hadn’t exactly courted in the usual way. Dreamscape meetings and battle were hardly conventional. How could she know how they would mesh in the ordinary, everyday things? When she returned from the Northlands, she would be crowned queen of the Rus. Would he rule beside her as her consort? Could he give up his birthright to follow her? Was it even fair to ask him?

  “I will be taking the throne of the Rus,” she told him.

  He stared at her for a moment, a small frown playing around his eyes. “You’ll be a good queen.”

  “And yet, we are stronger together.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

  “You have a court. You are heir to the Northlands.”

  “My father is hale and hearty yet. If you’re asking me if that’s a problem, then I tell you it isn’t a problem.” He shrugged, as if it was of no import. “I’ll abdicate in favor of my sister.”

  She stared at him. “You’d give it up.”

  Now he frowned at her in truth. “Of course.”

  Of course. Just that easily, he’d give up his entire kingdom for her. It shouldn’t surprise her. He’d offered himself for her at Koschei’s feet. But this was different. “You’d never be king. Consort to my queen.”

  Now a whiff of anger crossed his face. “Do you think I care? Nothing is as important as being with you. What good is a kingdom if you aren’t by my side? If you asked, I’d follow you anywhere. What more do I need to do to prove my love? We’re meant to be together, and nothing is more important to me. You can say no, you can turn me down, but I know you have feelings for me. Stop thinking,” he demanded, grabbing her hand. He placed it over his heart. “Feel. Feel how right we are together, feel what we could have. You said true mates are rare, and you’re right. That’s what we have, and you’d know it, too, if you’d let yourself see the bond.”