by Emma Hamm
“Perhaps not,” she whispered. “But I am learning how to forgive.”
Eyes flicking side to side, searching her gaze for something, he gave in. Alexandre leaned down, mimicking her posture, and reached out his own hand. Gently, he placed his clawed hand on top of hers.
His hand dwarfed her own. The claws scraped the delicate skin of her inner wrist, but she was not afraid.
“If only I could learn to do what you are doing,” he whispered.
“Then we’ll learn together, King of the Dread.”
Amicia did not know if forgiveness was something that could be taught, or something that must be earned. Either way, she knew he had her trust now.
Chapter 23
Alexandre shouldn’t be here. He should leave her alone in the library where she was seeking solace and privacy from the hordes of his people.
He had known she would be here. Where else would he find her? The woman was relentless in her quest to find out what happened to him and his people. He didn’t have the heart to tell her many of his memories were returning. Every moment in her presence revealed more and more about their situation.
And that her quest was hopeless.
The door to the library was the only barrier between them. He could hear her on the other side, rustling through pages of a book in the shelf nearest to the door. The heat of her body almost permeated through the wood, like her scent.
The damned woman smelled like lemons and fresh air. How was a man meant to keep his head when all he wanted to do was lean close and see if it were her hair or her skin that smelled so delectable?
He placed a hand against the door. Told himself he should leave and give her the privacy she desired. She was researching. He remembered what it was like to research a topic and be interrupted.
Without permission, his hand shifted the door and his feet carried him into the library. Already, he cursed himself. Amicia deserved a place where she didn’t feel hunted by him and his own people.
They were always hunting her. Even he, the one who had remembered the most of who he was, could feel the rage bubbling at the surface. The beast inside him slathered at the mere thought of her blood coating its tongue. It wanted to feast, to devour.
The man in him wanted to as well, just not in the same way.
She stood next to a bookshelf in the plainest of gowns he’d sent to her room. A pale yellow chiffon, the bodice was tight around her tiny waist. The arms were long and wide, while the skirt was loose and flowing around her body. Somehow, it still clung to her strong thighs and backside.
Amicia was a temptation any man would have to be insane not to adore. Alexandre did not know how to manage these emotions with the ones he already fought every single day.
She reached up for a book too high for her to grab. He lunged forward, leaning above her head and grabbing the vellum before she realized he was even in the room.
He expected her to make some sound of surprise or fear. Nor would he have blamed her for being afraid when a winged, horned beast appeared out of nowhere and leaned over her. What was he thinking?
Instead, she didn’t react in fear at all. She tilted her head back against his chest and stared up at him with a smile. “Thank you,” she said, her voice melodic and so sweet. “I was looking for that one.”
Alexandre found himself frozen, staring down at her as she looked up at him without a single spark of fear in her gaze. It was almost as if she were looking at a friend, rather than the monster who had tried to kill her multiple times.
Of course, he wasn’t that monster anymore. Not really. He remembered who he was and where he had come from.
He just couldn’t tell her any of the details. He had wanted to tell her the secrets of the man in the sarcophagus, what the crypt held and all the magic that lay within these walls. But she needed to discover these details for herself.
Such were the “rules,” as she liked to call them. Rules he had no part in building, nor had he ever wanted to follow. Yet, here he was. Following the rules and staring down at her like a fool.
Clearing his throat, he stepped away with the book in hand, turning it over in his grasp for some kind of distraction. “The History of Soleil?”
Why did the name sound so familiar? He’d never heard of a kingdom named that. Omra, yes. Little Marsh, certainly. Soleil was not a place he had ever heard of before.
“I think it’s where we are,” she said, reaching for the book in his hand. “At least, that’s what it looks like on the map I found.”
“Map?” There were no maps in the chateau. He had searched for them himself, in the early days when he couldn’t remember anything other than hunger and hate.
Amicia pointed to the table where he usually sat. Only now, there were no stacks of tomes for him to read. The table was covered with unrolled parchment paper that looked like a map.
Where had she found that?
He walked to the table in a daze. The entire kingdom was laid out before him with the title Ember at the top. He’d forgotten this place was all in the Empire of Ember, and each kingdom was ruled by someone who had reported to…
He couldn’t remember that last detail, although it felt very important. Before a splitting headache had time to arc through his skull, Amicia leaned around him and pointed to a particular spot on the map. A lake, it appeared.
“I think this is where we are,” she said. “I don’t see any other large lakes that are worth putting on a map, so it stands to reason we’re in Soleil. I just don’t know how I got here so quickly since Little Marsh is all the way over here. Next to Hollow Hill.” She slid her hand over a considerable amount.
Alexandre could have explained, once. Now, he could only nod his head and try to unstick his dry tongue. “That appears to be where we are.”
She was too silent in response. He feared her silences, as they meant she was thinking, and Amicia thinking could only result in something that caused him trouble.
Alexandre flicked his gaze to her, finding Amicia staring at him so intently it almost burned. “Yes?” he asked.
“You know how it’s possible I traveled that far, don’t you?”
The curse upon him bound his tongue, but it didn’t stop his head from nodding.
“And it’s another thing you cannot tell me?”
Again, he nodded his head.
She heaved a great sigh. “This is getting a little frustrating.”
A chuffing sound erupted from his chest, though he tried to cover it up with a cough afterward. “For you and me both.”
She peered up at him with a questioning look. “Was that a laugh?”
“I doubt it.”
“I think it might have been.” Her brows furrowed, and he couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing. She tsked. “Whatever are you going to do, King of the Dread? No one will find you frightening anymore if you laugh.”
“I shall remove you from the room should I desire to be frightening.”
“And a compliment?” She arched a brow before turning to head back to her chair. “What has gotten into you, this morning? I don’t know what to do with this kind version of you.”
He wanted to tell her this was how he had always used to be. He remembered teasing his brothers and sisters and the local women who had giggled whenever he looked at them. Once upon a time, Alexandre had been a good man. The man whom many women had wanted to be with.
One of his wings scraped the floor. He’d forgotten to hold them up, their weight dragging down on his spine until the muscles between his shoulder blades ached.
He was a monster now. His body reminded him of the fact, one he could not forget.
Alexandre grabbed the nearest book and followed her to the cushioned chairs where they had first spoken as equals. Perhaps even friends.
He sank into the chair beside her and tried to think of a conversation to start. He wanted to know more about her, but any topic along those lines seemed to open doors to harmful memories. The attack he had ordered
resulted in the death of her family. He couldn’t ask about her home; it no longer existed. There were so many things he couldn’t ask and, eventually, he didn’t know what to say at all.
Amicia cleared her throat. “Can I ask you a question?”
He hadn’t expected her to start the conversation, but he would tell her anything he could just to hear her voice. “Yes.”
“Did you get bigger?”
He twitched, claws digging into the book in his grasp. Before he answered, Alexandre forced his hands to relax. “Why do you ask?”
“Because you look bigger. And when I joined you in your room, it looked as though the muscles and bones in your body were moving on their own.”
She’d noticed? How bad had the attack been?
He didn’t want her to know that, yes, he was bigger. That one night every month, he grew even larger, even more monstrous. Eventually, he would be nothing more than a beast, hardly recognizable as human at all.
This time, strangely enough, his feet had taken most of the changes. Although the pain had centered on his torso. He slid them underneath the chair so she wouldn’t look, but he no longer had feet like a human. Instead, he had padded paws.
“I don’t think I’m any larger than I was before that night,” he lied.
“Hm,” she grumbled, then looked back at the book in her hands.
Thank all the gods she’d given up. Now he didn’t have to explain what that meant, even though he couldn’t. His tongue would stick to the roof of his mouth, chains locking the words inside his body.
She didn’t stay silent for long. “It’s not like you can hide the fact that you’re bigger, you know.”
“I’m not.”
“You are. A lot bigger, actually. Your chest, your shoulders, everything. And you can tuck your toes underneath the furniture all you want, but I can see you don’t have the same feet as before.”
The woman was too observant for her own good. Where had this sudden bravado come from? She was supposed to be frightened of him, damn it. The beast inside him wanted to remind her she had a place in this chateau, and that place was beneath him.
The man inside him, the one who had awoken the moment she touched the body in the tomb, agreed wholeheartedly. She would be lovely to have under him.
He didn’t know how to manage these emotions. Alexandre was simultaneously angry and aroused. He couldn’t stay in this room with her any longer, or he’d do something foolish he would regret.
Abruptly standing, he opened his mouth to make up some excuse that would allow him to leave her side without having her question him further. But before he could speak, he noticed a small dark spot on the horizon. One that careened toward the windows of the library so quickly, he hardly had time to lunge forward.
He scooped her up into his arms, turning them both and spreading his wings wide. Whatever had bolted toward the windows of the library crashed through the glass. Shards sliced through his wings, the pinpricks of pain nothing compared to the fear surging through his veins.
Was she all right? Had he caught her quick enough? The glass rained down upon them, and that could hurt her so easily. She was too delicate to survive such an attack.
“Amicia?” he snarled, pulling back just enough to stare down at her.
She blinked up at him, glass decorating her hair like starlight. “I’m fine.”
His knees grew weak with relief. Not because he wouldn’t have any more memories without her, but because she was all right.
That wouldn’t do. He couldn’t have feelings for the woman.
Alexandre dropped his arms from around her and helped her sit back down. Only then did he turn to look at the Dread who had shattered his most precious window and ruined the space where he could be alone with Amicia.
The female Dread stood with a lithe movement that belayed her status. She wasn’t just one of the Dread, but the greatest of his warriors. A female who had disappeared some time ago and should have remained long gone.
“Vivienne,” he snarled.
She tilted her head to the side, oddly bird-like in her movements with flared wings and gnashing teeth. “So you remembered my name after all this time.”
“Why are you here?”
“I have news, King.”
“Of what?” He didn’t want her here. He didn’t want her so close to the human woman who was his only link to his old life.
Vivienne’s eyes turned from him then, casting her gaze to the human. Yellow burned there, and the hunting instinct flared to life.
Alexandre stepped between the two women. “You shall report to me in my own quarters.”
“There is a human behind you, King.”
“And she will remain human, by my orders.”
Vivienne snapped her jaws. “Much has changed since I’ve been gone,” she replied with a growl.
“Much.” He didn’t look over his shoulder at Amicia, couldn’t for fear of what he might see. Instead, he beckoned his greatest warrior out of the library and prayed the little human was all right.
Chapter 24
Amicia picked the glass out of her hair. Every breath slowed the frantic beating of her heart, but she didn’t know what to think. Who was that Dread? She had seen none that looked so… female.
Maybe all the Dread here were male then. That creature had breasts. Full breasts, on display and bared for the world to see. Amicia had never seen such confidence or disregard to any kind of decorum.
Seconds after the door closed behind the King and the female Dread, the door opened again and Bernard burst through.
“Amicia?” he called out frantically.
“Here,” she replied, waving a hand with a smile. “I’m fine. Nothing happened.”
Bernard raced to her side and ran his hand up and down her body to knock glass shards out of the way. “Did she touch you?” he asked. “Did she do anything other than come in that window and immediately leave with the King?”
“She didn’t touch me.” Although Amicia didn’t understand why he was asking. She hadn’t seen the Dread woman before. Maybe the others had been told to not hurt her, but this one hadn’t. It was the only explanation she could think of.
“Thank the gods.” Bernard blew out a long breath, his wings drooping in relief. “Stay away from her, Amicia. I don’t care what it takes. That one is not for you to be alone with.”
“Why?”
“She’s dangerous.” Bernard shook his head. “No, not dangerous. That isn’t the right word. She is the woman who will tear your head off just for having the favor of the King.”
That made little sense. She didn’t have the favor of the King, to start. Alexandre had made it very clear she was here only as a prisoner. He’d even locked her away with a curfew to make sure she was in her room so he could control where she was at all times. That didn’t sound like him favoring her.
And who was this woman after all? Bernard seemed afraid of her, and though he was afraid of many things, she didn’t understand the correlation to this Dread who was smaller in stature than him.
“Who is she?” Amicia asked. “I haven’t seen her before.”
“They had a disagreement before we were all sent to Little Marsh. She wanted to kill everyone and get this all over with. The King wished to turn everyone, and Vivienne said there were enough mouths to feed. When it was clear the King wouldn’t give in, she…” Bernard lifted a hand to the back of his neck and scratched. “Well, no one knows where she went, but she went somewhere.”
“None of that explains who she is.”
Bernard hesitated long enough for her to grow nervous. Who was this woman? What had she done that made everyone so afraid?
Finally, Bernard blew out a breath and replied, “I shouldn’t remember this. I shouldn’t remember anything at all but… Vivienne was once meant to be the King’s betrothed. She was destined to be his queen, and then the memory gets all foggy. I remember her, but not her, and then I don’t remember what stopped the wedding. As it is,
she’s his best general and the only one who has his ear. Until—” Bernard stopped speaking.
“Until what?” Amicia pressed.
“Until you.”
“Oh.” Until she had walked into the chateau and everything had changed. The problem was that she didn’t know why everything had changed or what she had done to start it all. “Well then.”
Bernard snapped his wings close to his back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t tell you those things so you could feel sorry for yourself. This isn’t the end of the world, nor should it change your plans.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The man has an intended. You know now, and it’s time to move on.”
Amicia lifted her hands in the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bernard. The King has been kind lately, that is true. But we are nothing more than friends. Him having an intended changes nothing about the relationship we currently have. We’re… partners.”
“Partners?”
“Yes! We want to know the answer to the same question, thus we are working together.” Even she didn’t believe herself.
Amicia could see how suspicious Bernard was, and if she had been in his position, perhaps she would have been. The lie she told was thin.
She didn’t know how she felt about the strange King of the Dread. He had become a partner, as she stated, but he also had become more than just a king to her. His memories were as intriguing as the rest of this place.
The longer she stayed here, the less afraid she was. His size wasn’t as intimidating as she remembered. Nor were his odd looks as important as before. He was just Alexandre, the King of the Dread who needed her help.
That was all it was, she decided. A king wanted her help. Plain Amicia from Little Marsh, the daughter of a great tinker who couldn’t walk in her father’s footsteps once she grew up and wanted a family.
She was the one who now helped a king.
Squaring her shoulders, she met Bernard’s suspicious gaze head on. “Partners,” she repeated. “Nothing more and nothing less.”