Alphas for the Holidays

by Mandy M. Roth

  Inhaling deeply, he nodded, turned, and followed her to the large table, leaving the bowl behind as a snack for later.

  The Queen sat at the head of the table, casually reaching for food as she served herself.

  Immediately, Alador realized there was a problem. In his centaur form, he’d not be able to sit down on the chair. But if he sat on the floor, his head would barely reach the tabletop. However, if he stood at the table, he’d force her to have to crane her neck whenever she looked up at him.

  Among his kind, there was no need for tables; they ate where they stood.

  Moving his chair back, he decided the only option he could choose was to stand and eat.

  Glancing sidelong at him when he moved his chair out of the way, the Queen frowned and then nibbled on the bottom of her full lip with her straight, white teeth. Strong-looking teeth. Teeth like hers would be a sign of a good breeder within his herd. Take away her human legs, and the Queen was more than simply pretty.

  His heart pounded. And then it pounded even harder when she stood, stepped back, and with a simple flick of her wrist, caused the chairs to vanish and the tabletop to rest upon the ground.

  Without looking up at him, she tucked her robes beneath her legs and sat, reaching for her plate of food as though nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.

  He clenched his jaw, understanding that though she didn’t want him making a big deal about what she’d just done, it’d been a very big deal.

  Sitting slightly to the left of her, he couldn’t rip his gaze off her as she brought a ripened snowberry to her lips and sucked it down. The bright, dark juices immediately stained her porcelain fingers a bloody red.

  Without conscious thought, he reached out and latched a hand around her wrist.

  Her delicate brow lifting, she stared down at his hand. When she looked up at him, the words he’d desperately needed to say finally came pouring out.

  “I apologize for this morning. I wasn’t in my right mind and—”

  When she looked at him, his heart stuttered. Goddess, she was lovely, a mixture of fierce woman and innocence that stirred his insides and turned them to putty.

  “We were both tired, and it was nothing. I am only glad you came and helped when you did.”

  His nostrils flared as he reluctantly forced himself to release her. Her skin had been so soft, far softer than he’d imagined. He’d always thought she’d be as hard and unyielding as her ice, and while there’d been a chill to her flesh that seeped through his own…the touch of her had been far from unpleasant. In fact, his blood still tingled from the contact.

  So many thoughts swirled through his head. But the one that really mattered couldn’t seem to leave the tip of his tongue.

  Opening his mouth, he tried once more to ask her…he wasn’t even sure what.

  Why his people had vilified her when she seemed to be anything but?

  Why she seemed to care about them?

  Why she’d kept herself secluded and alone for so long?

  But just as before, the questions were glued to his lips. So instead, he asked another, one he knew she’d not answer, as she hadn’t bothered to yesterday, but one he wanted to know the answer to.

  “Why are you here? Why are we here?”

  For several long, tense minutes, she said nothing. She wouldn’t even look at him. All she could do was bring one berry to her mouth, chew on it thoughtfully, swallow, and then repeat the process.

  Alador tried to make sense of her, but she thoroughly confused him. Her silence was as cold and indifferent as he’d always assumed her to be, and yet her continued acts of kindness baffled his long-held belief in her, making him question everything he thought he’d known about the Ice Queen.

  “I’ve gone over that question myself. A million times,” she admitted softly, so quietly that he’d almost missed it entirely.

  “What?” he asked, startled, not because he’d not heard her but because he hadn’t actually expected an answer.

  Finally, she looked back up at him. Her blue eyes striking in the paleness of her face, her smooth skin gleamed like freshly fallen snow twinkling in the sunlight, and that close to her, he saw that even her lips—which he’d thought to be just a pale shade of pink before—were actually traced with a thin thread of palest blue along her cupid’s bow.

  Goddess, she was beautiful.

  His heart thumped powerfully in his chest. Clearing his throat, he reached for a pitcher of juice and kept his eyes firmly on the platters of food before them. He’d thought after yesterday his peculiar awareness of her might wane, that maybe he’d been delirious and tired, and it’d been nothing more than that.

  His tail flicked. And though he told himself not to look back at her, he found himself doing it all the same.

  Thinning her lips, she shook her head as a pained expression flitted briefly across her brow.

  “Last night, I stood in the snow. You watched me.” She said it without preamble, and again, there was no artifice to it. It wasn’t a coy question asking for more, simply a fact.

  And he didn’t know how to answer.

  “I…uh. I did not know—that is to say…”

  Her smile was soft. “It’s okay, male. You’re curious about me. About who I am. Are you not? It is why you continue to ask me why you’re here.”

  He clenched his jaw. In a few words, she’d gotten to the heart of the matter. Licking his front teeth, he simply nodded once. No more, no less.

  She picked up a leg of meat and held it in her hand. In less than a minute, the leg that’d been succulent with juices and fat froze, turning blue at the tip of the leg bone.

  Frowning prettily, she never looked up at him as she said, “The truth is, centaur, this is all my fault.”

  He knew that wasn’t true. He believed that with every fiber of his being. Not after what they’d done last night. Not after her continued acts of kindness. She’d not been the one to grab him. It’d been the Under Goblin.

  Just thinking about that animal caused an ache to spread through Alador’s chest. He rubbed his thumb across it, wincing at the fiery pain and wondering what’d just happened, but as quickly as it’d come on, it disappeared.

  There was dark magick in the place. He felt it lingering everywhere.

  Sighing, she set the frozen hunk of meat down on her plate that she’d not yet touched. “I know what you’re thinking, that it hadn’t simply been me. And while that’s the truth of it, there’s more to the story.”

  “Can you read minds?” He touched the tip of his forehead.

  “No.” She dusted off her hands and folded them elegantly in her lap. “But it’s what I would have thought were the situation reversed. This is my fault because of what I did the night I chose to make Glaciem my home. I did not know that land belonged to the Goblin. In fact, I’d never heard of him before. No doubt, that bit of wounded pride was the seed that rooted all those years ago, culminating in what he’s now done.”

  “And that is?”

  Heavy flakes of snow fell languidly down around her shoulders from nothingness. And it was odd, because he should have been frozen, surrounded by so much ice, but he felt fine.

  Whatever she was doing, she was keeping that sting from him.

  “That you are to remain trapped within this labyrinth of snow for a month’s time or until I discover where he’s hidden the key to our release.”

  A test, then. To take back the Goblin’s lands. It seemed petty and pointless.

  But then, centaurs were rational creatures, and that type of mean-mindedness was beneath his kind. If vengeance was to be had, it would be met face to face, not by using innocent pawns to further their agenda.

  “Ours? So you’re trapped as well.”

  Her cerulean gaze pierced his. “Yes, it would seem so.”

  “And yet you still have your magic. You should be able to leave, no?”

  “I have some magic.” She shrugged. “But nothing at all like what I typically have. I cou
ld kill those ice demons, but I can hardly control the elements outside the door, and no matter how much I will it, I cannot leave.”

  He heard the sadness in her words, and he frowned, feeling her emotions on a visceral level. Her sadness was his. He didn’t like seeing her that way. He hadn’t seen her laugh or smile often, but when he had, it was as though the sun had finally come out after years of darkness.

  Again, he rubbed a hand over his chest as his heart beat forcefully against his rib cage. He was just about to say something when a sudden thought intruded.

  “Earlier, when the children and I marched through the snow, I could have sworn I’d heard the voice of a woman.”

  Deep down, he knew it’d been her, and he half expected her to deny it, but again, she surprised him by being honest.

  “It was me.”

  She pushed her finger against the icicle her roasted meat had become. A pretty little frown marred her brows, as though it pained her to see it thus.

  “I could have stayed on my land if I’d wanted to.”

  She shrugged one slender shoulder, and he could almost read the question in her own mind. So why hadn’t she?

  “Haxion came to me.” A brief flicker of a memory slipped through her eyes. “Begged I would come and aid you.”

  Hearing those words, Alador wasn’t quite sure that was the only reason she’d come. Though it fit, made sense in many ways, there was more. He could almost hear the “but” lingering idle on the tip of her tongue.

  She tossed her hands wide, and her long fingers toyed almost anxiously with the crease in her snow-white gown. Another emotion crossed her face then, one he couldn’t quite name. Regret, exhaustion…he wasn’t quite sure. She wouldn’t look at him and kept nervously flicking her eyes to her feet and then up to a spot on his chest before moving back down again.

  “What happens to us if you cannot figure out where the key lies?” he asked softly, quietly, not sure he shouldn’t interrupt whatever thoughts lay so heavy upon her shoulders.

  When her eyes found his, they were sharp as steel and just as unyielding. “Nothing. I shall see personally to that.”

  “Why?” Again, the same question. He knew it probably bothered her that he continued to ask it, but a point of pride for a centaur—any centaur—was the ability to know their enemy. To inherently understand their strengths, weaknesses, and what made them tick.

  The Queen was a conundrum, defying all explanation and everything he’d learned about her. It seemed a side of her hadn’t wanted to come. Even at that moment, he sensed her grappling with her decision, and yet it had also become personal for her.

  Enough so that she’d vow no harm would come to them.

  Alador knew that the Goblin would not have made the challenge so easy. If he’d snatched them up, there was a reason for it, a purpose for why each one of them had been chosen. Nothing had been done by chance.

  He frowned as he mulled over their situation. No doubt there was a penalty for failure, not just for the three of them but for the Queen as well.

  His eyes flicked to hers. She was already looking back at him, and though he said nothing, he knew she knew exactly where his thoughts had led by the sudden lowering of her shoulders and the gentle nod she gave.

  “What is it?” he asked quickly.

  And just as he suspected, she did not miss a beat when she answered, “I become human once more.”

  His lips parted, his jaw dropped, and he might have said more, but the babble of laughing children suddenly filled the hall.

  Chapter 8

  Luminesa

  The children came in skipping and laughing. The girl—Gerda, she thought it was—had her blond hair plaited down both sides of her head and was gently shoving the raven-haired boy.

  “Don’t you look adorable,” she said in singsong.

  Kai glowered, holding onto the belt of his garment with one hand and rucking up the hem of his robes with the other. “Don’t either. Shut up, Gerda.”

  To which the towheaded child laughed before sticking her tongue out at him.

  Luminesa had had no idea what type of clothing to craft for them. Accustomed as she was to her gowns of ice, she’d had to reach way back into the darkest corners of her memory bank to fit them with something practical. What she’d come up with had been robes made of heavy weighted cloth, tanned, practical. Nothing fancy about them.

  Gerda stood several inches taller than Kai and seemed fine with her robe that looked more like a gown of sackcloth.

  Kai, however, was tripping over his, and she had to admit, it looked more like a dress than the robes she remembered the men of her village wearing.

  The child glared frostily at her when he sat unceremoniously beside Alador. And without saying a word, he reached for the platter of magically warmed steaks in front of him.

  He grabbed hold with two hands, dragged it to his mouth, and made loud munching sounds as he chewed.

  “You sound like an animal”—Gerda’s nose turned up derisively—“and look like one too.”

  Again she laughed, which only caused Kai to growl at her, snapping his teeth when she tried to reach for his hunk of meat.

  Luminesa’s stomach rumbled. She’d eaten only a few berries, but truthfully, she’d been surprised she’d even been able to do that. What’d happened to her leg bone was what typically happened to any food she handled. It iced over immediately, which was why she’d stopped eating real food ages ago.

  Her tongue still tingled with the sweet essence of snowberries. She’d managed to put down four of them before her magic took over and froze them.

  With her fingers bunching into the fabric of her gown, she wished she knew how she’d managed not to freeze the food when she’d first handled it. Something strange was definitely happening to her body.

  “Both of you, quiet!” Alador snapped, his voice big and booming and loud in the suddenly unnaturally quiet confines of the dining chamber.

  Alador’s stern warning snapped Luminesa from her reverie.

  The children both looked at him with wide, shamed eyes. Gradually, Kai dropped his hands, setting the chunk of meat onto his lap.

  “Now”—Alador nodded once he was certain he had their attention—“not a one of you thanked our hostess for the beds or this wonderful meal set out before us.”

  Gerda squared her little shoulders, looking directly at Luminesa with a timid and shy grin. “Thank you, Ice Queen.”

  Her voice was small and nothing at all like the teasing tone it’d been with Kai.

  Luminesa felt a little awkward since she’d neither asked for nor expected their gratitude, but she nodded all the same. “You’re welcome, but please, let’s not stand on formalities here. I am only Luminesa.”

  “Mistress Luminesa,” the girl said with a hushed little whisper of sound before breaking out in a smile that caused her blue eyes to sparkle with laughter.

  And something inside Luminesa’s heart quivered, a brief flicker of warmth that discombobulated and astounded her all over again. It hadn’t been her imagination last night after all—that she’d begun to feel real emotion again.

  It was little more than a glowing ember, but even the mightiest of fires were birthed from the tiniest of sparks.

  Her lips wobbled, and she realized she was actually trying to smile. The feeling was so bizarre she momentarily forgot what she was about to say.

  In that pause, Kai spoke up.

  “Thank her for what?” He glowered down at his lap; his voice was low but rigid. “She’s the reason we were snatched from our homes in the first place. I want to go home.”

  He punctuated his words with a flick of his fingers on the edge of his robe.

  Only once Alador opened his mouth—no doubt to chastise the boy—did Luminesa’s tongue come unglued. Holding up a hand toward the centaur male, she shook her head.

  “No, the child is right. This is my fault. And for that, boy…” She waited until he looked up at her. His pretty green eyes were so cap
tivating in the sweet lines of his chubby little face. No doubt there was a mother and father in mourning for the little one. And again, Luminesa felt that strange bump bump tangle up her heart. “I am so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”

  Kai’s little jaw dropped. In fact, Luminesa was sure that if she looked at the other two, they’d be wearing similar looks of shock.

  One of her ice maidens suddenly came running through the doors of the hall, panting heavily and clinging to her chest, her pale blue eyes wide in her pale blue face.

  “Mistress! Antigua’s dead!”

  Alador was the first to rise, clutching his fists tightly by his side.

  Luminesa had designed the maidens only yesterday. She’d not yet learned their names, but they were built to be indestructible to most any kind of attack.

  “But who could have done this?” she asked as she gathered up her skirts to follow her scullery maiden out the grand doors. Had an ice demon crept into the palace after all?

  Alador must have had the same thought, because he turned wide eyes on her and nodded grimly, as if to say he’d take care of it.

  The breathless maiden ran back down the hall and then turned and headed toward the conservatory wing of the castle. Luminesa barely spared a passing glance at the expansive room filled with shelves of books, rolled sheaves of parchment with drawings depicting different sections of Kingdom, and globes of every shape and size. The maiden pushed open the French doors that led to the atrium and then stopped, shivering violently as she hugged her arms to her chest.

  And though the atrium gathered with whistling winds and a thick flurry of snow, Luminesa knew she did not shiver from the cold she’d been built to withstand.

  No, she shivered from the nearly decapitated body of the scullery maiden.

  Her arms and legs were bent at odd angles around her body. Her head, or rather where her head should have been, was nothing but a puddle of water.

  Luminesa frowned when the glittering sparks of silver floating inside the puddle caught her eye. Kneeling, she made to reach for the strange shimmer when twin gasps sounded from behind her.