Alphas for the Holidays

by Mandy M. Roth

  “The genie returned the next morning and discovered what he’d done to me. She killed him,” she said succinctly, shaking off the melancholy as 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 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. She raised her finger, touched it to the tip, called forth a jet of ice to act as a tie, and locked the braid in place.

  Smiling gently, he laid the braid 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 made her body burn in more than one place. His thumb rubbed gently upon her skin.

  Inhaling deeply, he lay 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, that 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 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 that night. All she wanted then 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. A frown marred 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 seemed to notice that, too, and lifted the fragile ice sculpture 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?”

  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 his wicked heart, 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 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. 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?”

  She looke
d at him. His thumb brushed the corner of her cheek as he tucked a thin curl of hair behind her ear.

  “We.” He nodded. “We have a month to find this key. And no clues. You’ll need help.”

  She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Why would you help me? I put you in this predicament in the first place.”

  “No. Just like what happened with Josiah of Scarta, none of this is your fault, Luminesa. But you came here when you didn’t need to. You’ve built us a fortress to keep us safe from the cold outside. It would be my honor to assist you in any way I could.”

  She’d never known centaurs could be so honorable.

  Or maybe…maybe it wasn’t all centaurs…maybe it was that male. Alador.

  Luminesa was about to say something when her words left her, because the next thing she knew, the castle had been rocked, booming thunderously as though it was going to fall down around their heads anytime.

  With a cry, they both shot to their feet and raced outside just as the next wave of ice demons came bearing down on them.

  Chapter 10

  Alador

  For the next week, he and Luminesa had developed a rhythm of sorts, fighting the ice demons at night, while during the day, they kept company with the children.

  Her Yetis had worked far better than he could have imagined. Twice, they’d scented out the dregs of the Goblin’s dark magick, and any catastrophes had been easily routed, as they’d been able to gather up the dust before any harm could come to the children again.

  But nights of hardly any sleep and days filled with keeping a constant eye on the children were taking their toll on both of them. Luminesa’s already pale skin seemed impossibly washed out, and it was easy enough to read the exhaustion lacing her bones.

  Her need was a constant ache in his chest. Alador wanted to give her at least one afternoon to relax. The children had suffered no further attacks from the Goblin since, and the present seemed as good a time as any to give them all a day off. Even if only temporarily.

  “Well”—Gerda tossed out her arms—“how do I look, Alador?” He’d instructed that she dress in her nicest gown for the day.

  Luminesa had done a fine job of feeding, clothing, and sheltering the children. She’d even created games for them to play. But there’d been far too many days trapped indoors. They’d begun bickering, fighting over toys, clothing, even who got to pet Baatha first.

  They were getting on one another’s nerves, but Alador couldn’t blame them. Human children, much like centaur children, needed the freedom to be children sometimes.

  And while there was no lack of food, Alador himself felt the need to hunt, trap, or simply just explore the woods beyond. He was a creature built for the outdoors and understood the children’s suffocation, for he suffered it too.

  Gerda twirled, causing the cream-colored folds of her thick gown to twinkle softly from the natural glow of sunlight bouncing off the ice room.

  “You look lovely.” Alador nodded.

  Then he glanced toward Kai, who sat on a corner bench with his chin in his fist, staring glumly out the window. The boy was dressed in trousers made of deerskins and a thick parka lined with white fur.

  “Kai,” he said slowly, walking toward the boy, “will you eat nothing?”

  His bowl of gruel still remained untouched.

  “I don’t want food,” he snapped, his green eyes looking up at Alador with a mixture of anger and resentment. “I want to go home. Now.”

  Alador wished he could send the children back. Every fiber of him wished they weren’t there, but he simply couldn’t send them yet.

  “We will, soon. I vow it.”

  The little boy’s nostrils flared. “When? You lie. I do not think you and her are looking at all. She has punished me, and now I’ll never leave.”

  His little foot kicked out, knocking into the ice table and causing several cracks to spiderweb along its top.

  “Kai, acting out changes nothing. When I tell you we are doing all we can, you have to trust me. Believe me, I do not want you here any more than you wish to be here.”

  The little boy sniffed and looked down at his hands forlornly. Alador didn’t know if he was getting through to the boy or not, but he hoped so.

  A chill breeze thick with the electrifying scent of frosted berries and pine suddenly tickled his nose. Smiling immediately, he turned and was stunned into silence when she swept in.

  Luminesa wore a gown comprising nothing but millions of glittering snowflakes threaded together, formed almost as if it’d been painted on. Every lush curve of her body was on full display. A long silvery train trailed her as she walked toward them. Her silvery-blond hair spilled down her back in soft waves.

  Her hair changed colors depending on her moods, a trait he found utterly adorable. Then again, he found everything adorable about her lately.

  Her eyes sought his immediately, and when she smiled, there was a shyness to it that made his pulse stutter.

  “Good morning, horse,” she greeted him, then giggled when he growled.

  Somehow, it’d become their morning routine. He wasn’t sure how or when, but he looked forward to it every day.

  Slapping one arm across his chest, he bowed deeply toward the woman who had come to mean so much to him in such a short time.

  “Good morning, my queen.”

  Long, spiky lashes tipped in frost fluttered gently against her cheekbones as she nodded back at him. Normally, they’d break their morning fast together, enjoying a few moments of quiet and peace before the children descended.

  He wasn’t sure what she would do seeing them there now. Make her excuses, turn and leave, or…

  When she turned toward Gerda, her smile was as skittish as that of a shy little rabbit coming out of its hole.

  Only on rare occasions had she spoken to the children so far. Threading her fingers together in front of her, she said, “You look beautiful, Gerda. I hope my clothing choices meet with your approval.”

  The little girl bobbed her head enthusiastically. “The dress is so fine. Not even mama could have made me something quite this perfect, and her being a seamstress and all.”

  Luminesa’s shoulders visibly relaxed under the girl’s enthusiasm, and a true smile stole her lips that time.

  Alador’s skin tightened to watch it. His already speeding pulse hammered violently in his ears.

  He was falling in love with the creature, that woman of ice. He recognized the sign for what it was. Every night, he brought out that little miniature she’d crafted of him, tracing the clean lines of it and imagining that someday, she might trace his own body in the same way.

  He also knew that what he felt for Luminesa was a rarity among his people. Intermixing wasn’t often kindly looked upon, and only the bravest ever dared contemplate it, let alone act upon the impulse.

  Luminesa turned toward Kai. Without saying a word, she walked to his side and held out her hand to him.

  The boy looked up with confusion in his eyes, but after only a moment’s hesitation, he slipped his small hand through hers.

  “Since you’re both so well dressed, I can only assume that you wish to explore the castle grounds?”

  She asked the children but looked at Alador as she said it.

  Gerda squealed, clapping her hands enthusiastically. “Oh, may we, mistress? I’m dreadfully bored in this castle.”

  “Gerda,” Alador gently corrected, “remember that we could have been left to fend for ourselves if not for her.”

  The reminder immediately quelled the child’s curt honesty.

  “It’s okay,” Luminesa said. “Truth be told, I’ve grown a bit bored myself. And there does seem to be a nice break in the weather for once. But do understand that unlike most parts of my territory, I cannot completely control the weather here. We shouldn’t stray far from the castle in case things worsen again.”

  Alador would have liked to have run many miles that afternoon, stretch his legs and work his muscles hard, but her advice was s
age.

  As one, they traveled toward the castle’s entrance, the children both hanging on to Luminesa’s hands. She’d begun warming up. Literally.

  Her flesh the first night had still held the nip of winter chill to it, but every night since he and she had begun meeting in the solarium to discuss their day and where to explore the next day for the key, he’d begun to notice the change in her.

  Even her cheeks blazed with color.

  Her magic was still as potent as ever, but she no longer covered herself in a rim of ice.

  Last night, when he’d once more found his head on her shoulder, it’d been all Alador could do not to drop a kiss on her exquisite and flawless neck. At one point during the night, when he’d finally fallen asleep, he’d been promptly woken up less than an hour later, panting and covered in sweat from one of the most erotic dreams he’d ever had.

  His growing desire for her had his emotions in turmoil more often than not, not only because he wanted to kiss her but also because what if she did not desire him as he did her?

  He was half horse, a completely separate species from her. Luminesa was no lover of humans, that much was clear, but in all the stories he’d ever heard of her, he’d never known her to have any sort of lover. Of any kind.

  She could be asexual.

  It was not unheard of in Kingdom, especially for creatures with powers such as hers. What need did she have of a man when she could make everything she needed with a mere flick of her wrist? She could craft her own man of ice; she’d done it with the maidens.

  He frowned, not liking where that train of thought led.

  “Alador,” Gerda said with a chipper smile, “would you give Kai and me a ride?”

  Shaking his head free of those distracting thoughts, he looked down at the children, only to note they’d finally arrived at the entrance.

  Luminesa stepped back and gestured for him to lift the children up. In one easy swing, he placed first Kai, then Gerda on his hind.

  Kai’s little fingers dug into his mane of hair, hanging on tightly.

  Luminesa was the first to step outside. And when she did, she drew a graceful arcing line with her hand, which caused a dazzling rainbow to appear in the unnaturally still and cerulean-colored sky.