Her heart thundered in her chest.
Luminesa recalled that night with the type of startling clarity that usually only came from a fresh memory. But no matter how many years passed, how many lifetimes she walked through, or how many silent admonishments she’d given herself that Josiah of Scarta no longer lived, she could also never forget.
His callused palm landed on her shoulder, and just like before his touch burned her to her core. A fire that she didn’t want to leap back from, but rather, jump headlong into.
He was giving her a chance to change course, a chance not to say the words hovering on the tip of her tongue. Words that she’d swallowed for so long that giving them life now felt a lot like squaring off against a demon crawling straight from the deepest, darkest pits of perpetual fire.
The first tear rolled down her cheek, crystalizing the moment it fell off her chin.
“His name was Josiah of Scarta. A man I’d known all my life. We’d been raised together as children in the same, little village. I thought I knew him.”
Funny how time could pass, a hundred years, but always some memories—the ones that cut through a person’s soul—could remain just as startlingly clear today as they had the day it’d happened.
She’d been a bar keep at a local tavern. An unassuming, mild mannered woman with brown hair and brown eyes...nothing truly extraordinary about her. She’d liked people and generally thought the best of them.
“The genie woman—Nixie—she walked into my tavern. She’d come on an errand from her newest master. Josiah said he wanted to see me again.”
Looking out the window, she didn’t see the snow dusted plains of night, but the depth of sorrow in Nixie’s eyes as she’d asked the favor of Luminesa. Compelled by her own bonds of servitude to perform. Luminesa had known immediately that Nixie hadn’t wanted to do what she’d been forced to do.
It’d been that hesitation that’d compelled Luminesa to go, not for Josiah, but for the slave woman. To save her the heartache of forcing Luminesa to go if she chose not to do it willingly.
“So you went, to spare the genie the pain of using her magic to compel your willingness.”
Alador’s deep voice, so wise, so full of insight, caused her to tremble. Why did she like him so much? She hardly knew him, and yet, he was the first male since the night with Josiah that she genuinely liked.
He took her hand.
And she let him.
Even as every molecule inside of her froze. Because once again she was bombarded by emotions. The warm feeling rippling through her stomach in waves from the rough feel of his ridged palms and fingers.
The smell of him invaded her brain, a mix of moss, earth, pine, and man.
Her fingers were so pale compared to his bronzed ones. Slender, and small, to his large, strong ones.
She couldn’t help but look at him, and was drowned by that malachite gaze that pierced right through her soul.
Yesterday morning when they’d met he’d been what everyone else had ever been to her, distrustful, uneasy, angry even. So what had changed between now and then?
He bent his forelegs and then his back, kneeling on the floor and bringing her down with him.
Again she suffered the thought that she should shake free of him. But his was the first touch that made her feel something other than dead inside, and goddess help her, but she was coming to crave more.
Then his strong forearm banded tight around her waist, and he dragged her flush to his side, so that she was settled upon him in a half sitting, half supine position.
His scent of earth and horseflesh was a delicious combination that made her body tingle in a most unusual way.
His eyes never left her face through the entire process, as though asking without words if what he did were okay.
It was strange.
They’d hardly knew one another, and had he been any other male (even a centaur one) she’d have flashed him in ice for the impertinence. But something deep inside of her recognized something deep inside of him, even if she didn’t know exactly what it was yet.
So she nodded instead. Letting him know that ‘yes, it was okay.’
Settling her shoulders against his strong body, she smiled as she suddenly slipped into a curve that fitted her like a snug pillow. A perfect little rounded bend that seemed as though it’d been shaped just for her.
Because they still needed to remain vigilant to the demons that could come crashing toward them at any moment, she changed the walls of the room from opaque to see through, so that from every corner of her nook she could see the outside, could see the gusting snow, could see the dance of the aurora borealis sway through the nighttime sky.
Luminesa hoped the demons would not return, but deep down...she knew the Goblin’s cruel games had only just begun.
Then twisting her fingers together, she played with her magic. Creating a design, she wasn’t quite sure what yet, but she didn’t think, simply allowed the magic to move through her as she spoke.
Sometimes releasing a bit of the ice magic was enough to help her settle her equilibrium.
“I went to Josiah’s tent that night. Such a simple-minded fool I was then,” she said it softly, her words echoed through the empty chamber, bouncing back at them teasingly. “But I’d gone to him before, with no issues. I’d assumed that night would be no different than the ones before it. He and I had grown up together after all, I’d thought us...if not friends, well known acquaintances, what could I possibly have to fear from him?”
All of sudden Alador’s fingers had begun combing through the thick locks of her hair. She’d forgotten that she’d unpinned it for bed, but she’d been so restless and full of thoughts that she’d gotten up and come down here instead.
He was gentle as he slid his fingers through her blue curls. Tugging gently on them, but never painfully.
She sighed, scalp tingling pleasantly as he did so. “To be touched again is...”
Her words trailed off as she fought to look for the right word to describe what she felt.
But he’d stilled in his ministrations of her. “I am sorry,” he said, as he disentangled his fingers from her hair. “We centaurs enjoy the act of combing out one another’s hair during storytellings. I forget that you—”
Twisting, she looked up at him.
His face was screwed up in a grimace and her heart lurched because she didn’t want him thinking he’d done anything wrong.
Grabbing the hand nearest her, she guided it back to her head, keeping her palm over the top of his.
His flesh hot. Her flesh cold.
Moving into each other, but not causing pain.
She’d always thought touching another would hurt. That her body wouldn’t be able to stand the shock of warmth again. And though she felt her body thawing out under his hand, it didn’t hurt the way it had when she’d been in the Under Goblin’s domain.
“What I was going to say, horse, was...being touched by another after so long is a wonder.”
Gradually the tightness around his eyes relaxed, and the outer edges of his lips curled up before finally blooming into the type of smile that shone brighter than the sun itself.
His entire face lit up and again her heart went crazy, pounding so hard against her ribcage that it was almost painful.
“Horse,” he murmured, but then chuckled beneath his breath, shaking his head in humored exasperation.
And for just a second a grin flashed across her face too.
But then he started brushing his fingers through her hair again and she sighed with overwhelming contentment, continuing to weave particles of ice.
The mood grew calm between them, peaceful. And slowly she was lulled back into that memory, but not with fear as it used to be.
For so long she’d thrown shields up, running away anytime the memories tried to surge up. Making herself busy in any way she could so that she wouldn’t have to think back on them.
But here, with him, this was a safe place. Quiet.<
br />
“Josiah had been drinking. I smelled the stench of liquor on his breath the moment I’d neared him.”
She clenched her jaw, remembering his shifty eyes, and the way his dark skin had gleamed with sweat. How his thinning hair had clung to the sides of his portly neck.
He’d changed so much since she’d last seen him that shock had kept her feet rooted to the ground. And though her mind had niggled a warning that all wasn’t right, for reasons she still couldn’t fathom, she’d stayed.
“He asked me to marry him again,” she said the words so low they barely registered above a whisper.
Alador had begun braiding the thick strands of her hair, his touch as gentle as the glide of a butterfly’s wing against her skin.
“I said no.” She shook her head, a thick lump wedged itself in the back of her throat and the heat of tears burned behind her eyes. She trembled. “I shouldn’t have said no. Maybe I could have gotten away from him if I’d lied.”
Alador’s fingers stopped moving and in a voice as deep as the trenches of Seren, he rumbled, “What happened, Luminesa?”
Her mouth parted. That was the first time he’d ever called her by her true name.
Placing her hand atop of his, she turned to look up at him. His eyes were hard, furious, and his beautiful lips that were usually so soft and easy to smile were now thin, angry slashes.
“He took me. Over and over. And when I screamed too loud the third time because it hurt, he cut out my tongue.” A lone tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
With gentle fingers, he reached over and took that crystalized tear off her cheek and then in a gesture she’d not expected, he brought it to his lips and kissed it.
His warmth melted it back into water.
Her lips parted.
“There can be no gift greater than the trust of a woman’s tears,” he said softly, but then his countenance turned hard once more, “what happened to Josiah?”
Inside those words Luminesa heard the steely ring of fury.
“The genie returned the next morning and discovered what he’d done to me. She killed him,” she said succinctly, shaking off the melancholy like a dog would shake water from its fur, “and since she’d already broken faith and knew she faced severe discipline for what she’d done, she did one more thing for me. She saved me. She asked me to make a wish, and I did.”
His eyes raked her. “You wished to become an Ice Queen?”
“Not exactly,” she shook her head, “but I wished for no man to ever hurt me again. And none have. She turned me into ice. And then she was gone. Punished for what she’d done. I was lost and scared and didn’t know what to do. I no longer trusted men, but as I lingered on the fringe of society I noticed that it wasn’t simply men who couldn’t be trusted, but women too. The hearts of humans are wicked, full of such hate and mischief, I could no longer be around any of them. And so I fled. To the most distant cap of Kingdom and I made my home. Away from everyone. Or so I thought.”
She sighed. Recalling her first encounter with the Under Goblin. She’d been inclined to think kindly of him after a decade with no form of contact with anyone but her land creatures, she’d been lonely and had had time to think, to mull over the possibility that not everyone was evil. That maybe a few were, but not all.
The Under Goblin had been worse than most though, and had only helped to further cement her hatred of all bipedal species.
Alador finished braiding her hair. When he got to the end, he lifted it up for her to inspect. Raising her finger, she touched it to the tip and called forth a jet of ice to act as a tie, locking the braid in place.
Smiling gently, he laid it across her shoulder. But rather than move his hand away as she’d expected he kept it glued to her upper arm. His warm touch making her body burn in more than one place.
His thumb rubbed gently upon her skin.
Inhaling deeply, he laid his head against her shoulder.
Luminesa knew from years of studying the centaurs that they were a naturally affectionate bunch. That often they touched and petted one another, and not as a form of flirtation but as a way of establishing the hierarchy between them.
So, this was probably nothing special to him. But to her...it literally meant everything.
It was all she could do not to turn around, throw her arms around his neck, and beg him to hold her. Just hold her. No kisses. No intimate touches. Just the contact was enough to remember that once she’d lived. Once she’d known what laughter had been. Once she’d been whole...
“Thank you for honoring me with your truth,” he said solemnly.
Luminesa swallowed hard, continuing to twist and turn the strands of ice through her fingers, not paying attention to what it was she was creating.
“I do not want you thinking badly of me, male. The truth is, I’m years out of practice when it comes to socializing, and while humans are no favorites of mine, I will do everything in my power to return those children to their family.”
She felt his nod and her stomach dove straight to her knees. She never wanted his touches to end. Never wanted to walk away from this night, all she wanted now was to close her eyes and go to sleep.
“Queen, may I speak frankly with you?” he asked.
Turning to him, she nodded. “Yes, but I wish you would simply call me Luminesa.”
“Then, Luminesa, I would ask you to never blame yourself again for what he did. For those crimes committed, were not your own, but his alone. He deserved his death. And I am only sorry that you had to suffer as you did.”
For years she had blamed herself. Blamed herself for not running away, for not heeding the still small voice that warned her all wasn’t right with Josiah. She’d blamed herself for not acting contrary to who she was. She’d been so worried that she’d hurt his feelings after her rejection of him that she’d stayed and tried to comfort him. Only to further escalate his hate and anger by doing so.
And though Josiah had very nearly killed her that night, and intellectually she understood that everything that’d happened had been his fault, she’d been unable to stop herself from believing in some small way that at least part of it had been hers too.
That’d been a burden almost unbearable to her.
“What would your sister have done if this had happened to her?” she asked.
Alador lifted his head, and she missed the stinging warmth of his touch on her shoulder. Looking directly at her, he said, “She’d have snipped his balls off, then strung and quartered him.”
Sadness permeated every inch of her being. “No centauress would have allowed herself to have been caught as I was.”
His thumb tilted her chin up. There was a frown marring his brows. “Centaurs are intelligent thoughtful creatures but do not believe for a moment that we aren’t warring creatures too. The capacity for violence exists in all species, Luminesa, not merely your humans. What you just described has sadly happened to members of my tribe, to both the men and the women. Haxion however is a trained warrior as skilled with her sword as she is with her tongue,” he grinned, which caused her to return one in kind, “but you weren’t. The fight was never fair.”
Unable to look at the tenderness he transmitted to her, she glanced down at her hands only to discover that the ice threads she’d been weaving had somehow turned into a glasswork image of a proud centaur male who bore a striking resemblance to the one beside her.
Alador, noticing that too, lifted the fragile ice sculptor off her palm.
She’d expected him to say something to her about it, but he didn’t.
“Luminesa, why has the Goblin targeted you as he has?”
She sighed. “I wish I knew, I can only speculate.”
He shrugged. “Then speculate. At least it’s a start.”
Crossing her legs at the ankles, she leaned back into that comfortable crook of his. “Once, long ago, we had a relationship of sorts. I was lonely.”
She chuckled sadly, embarrassed to admit to the friendship.
He tilted her chin up. “We all make mistakes now and again.” He sighed. “What happened? Because all of this feels incredibly personal and much more than just wanting a bit of land back.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.” And it was true. She rolled her wrists. “But maybe I do. All I know is once I discovered the wicked heart he had, I could not remain with him. After that he made it his personal mission in life to turn mine into a living hell. But it seems ridiculous to think that he’s come after me merely because I may have broken his heart. It is not possible that he actually has one.”
Alador frowned. His thumb rubbed gently along her chin. “Even the most evil among us loves at least one thing.”
Her jaw dropped. It wasn’t possible. Had she really broken his heart? It couldn’t be. Just couldn’t be.
He nodded. “Love can be a treasure, but it can also be a twisted, cruel thing that shouldn’t even be called love at all.”
She shivered.
They stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. And when he moved his hand away from her, she almost wanted to weep.
Luminesa hated how desperate she’d become for his touch, but there was no denying to herself now that she craved it.
“You’re a woman worth going crazy for,” he whispered into the stillness.
And for a second she was so stunned by those words that she didn’t know what to say. When she finally found her tongue, she snorted and made a joke of it, but only because thinking too long on those words was much too dangerous to her heart. “You’re very strange, horse. But I like it.”
She hadn’t meant to say that, but the teasing laughter just slipped out of her. It was so easy to be herself with him, it was actually a little scary how easy it was.
He snorted, but soon the mood turned serious.
“So we are bound together all of us in this strange world, until what?”
“Well, until I find the key to our release I suppose.”
“I think you mean we.”
“We?”
The Ice Queen (Dark Queens Book 3) Page 11