Romantically Enchanted: A Twisted Fairytale Collection

by Madeline Martin

  “Good.” Her father nodded. “Take care of her in my stead. She is something special.”

  “I will do my level best,” Quinn promised. “You’ve done your daughter proud.”

  This cannot be happening! Averell squeezed her father’s fingers until he transferred his attention back to her. “Tell me who did this to you so that I may avenge your death.” If she had to lose him, the least she could do was find his murderer and inflict justice.

  He shook his head. When he coughed, his lungs rattled with wetness. “The queen. I’d found a stag shortly after I set out this morning.” He paused, his breath labored. “I cut out its heart and deposited it into the box she’d given me.” A cough interrupted his words. He spat out blood. His lips were turning blue. “I didn’t wish to wait to present it to her, so I took myself off to her castle.”

  “Oh no.” Tears fell to her cheeks. “She knew, didn’t she? But how?”

  “She did, and I’m convinced now more than ever she possesses powerful dark magic.” He coughed again. “She didn’t say anything at the time and allowed me to leave, but as soon as I gained the forests, she appeared, and in my surprise, I froze. She rammed her blade home, and I knew.” Her father shifted slightly but his face was a mask of pain. “I couldn’t make it home.”

  “I cannot lose you.” Her voice broke and she pressed his gloved palm to her cheek. “Surely there is a way to save you.”

  The air around them glimmered with green and purple sparks. Quinn shot to his feet. He stood guard in front of Averell and her father.

  “Show yourself,” he demanded of the undulating cloud.

  “What is happening?” she whispered. Cold fear slid down her back.

  “Bad magic,” Quinn whispered.

  Then a woman materialized from the glittering cloud. Tall and slim, a black cloak obscured her figure and hid her hair and eyes, but her lips were blood red. “How unfortunate I must bear witness to such a heart wrenching scene,” she said without an explanation, and the darkness of her voice slid over Averell’s skin like squid ink. She came forward a few steps and pointed a red-painted fingernail at Quinn. “Be gone with you, peasant.” With a flick of her wrist, he was tossed aside, landing in the shrubbery nearby.

  Her father gasped. “Queen Grimhilde, at least allow me the dignity to die without you mucking that up, too.”

  Averell stared. Her jaw hung open. This woman—this killer—was her mother. “Leave him be.”

  “Tsk, tsk, child,” said the queen. She glided forward. Did her feet even touch the ground? “I asked for a life. He failed to deliver, so I took his. Now you need to pay for his betrayal.”

  “How?” Slowly, Averell stood even as her father scrabbled for her hand and urged her to stay quiet. Somehow, this woman would pay for what she’d done.

  “Such spirit.” The queen came ever closer. She peered into Averell’s face. “There was a time, dear girl, when I had considered keeping you, molding you into my image.”

  “Using me as your own personal pawn in a game I want no part of,” she spat out as Quinn struggled to his feet. What would he think of the proceedings? Her throat tightened. Would he still want her now that he knew the truth of her parentage?

  A cold chuckle escaped the queen. “Perhaps, but then everyone has their uses.”

  Averell planted her hands on her hips and glared.

  The queen waved a hand at Averell’s father. “You are much like I was at your age. Pity we are on opposite sides now.” She backed away. “In any event, I must attend to Snow White myself.” She cast a look of loathing at Averell’s father. “However, I need you to kill Prince Charming of Annanvale for me. I simply cannot be in two places at once, and both are pressing engagements.”

  “What?” Averell’s cry blended with Quinn’s.

  The queen rolled her eyes. “It’s a small task at best. An in and out job, really. The prince is a wolf shifter. Such abomination mustn’t be allowed, and besides, I want his kingdom, for his lands border mine and are richer in resources. This existence has become so… stifling. I wish for more.” She floated backward. “Charming, or rather Prince Henry, is powerful with his wolf magic. I wonder if he truly knows that yet?” she said more as an aside. “If he does, he might decide to come after me, and I cannot allow that, for I have much to conquer.” Her laugh made Averell want to retch. “If he’s killed, he’ll never become king, and his father is frail, easily overthrown. Charming’s brother can be manipulated.”

  From behind her, Quinn growled and the sound sent gooseflesh sailing over her skin.

  “If I refuse your dictate?” Averell breathed a sigh of relief when he reached her side and slipped a protective arm around her waist.

  “Why, I’ll kill you, of course. All magic has a price, girl. Did you think I would let your father spirit you away, the fruit of my loins, give you a small portion of my magic, without exacting payment at some point?”

  “Dear God,” Quinn breathed as he stared at her, his eyes hooded. “You are her daughter? This isn’t a terrible joke?”

  “Unfortunately, this is so,” Averell whispered back. There was no time to explain or even talk about the implications. She addressed the queen. “If you wish to kill me, do it, but be warned. I will fight.”

  “Not against magic,” Quinn hissed. “You can’t.”

  She brushed him away and stood firm. If there had indeed been a magic transfer at her birth—and there had to have been for she felt that obscure power buried deep within her—then she would bide her time in how she would use it.

  “Ah, you would have made an excellent minion I think. Too bad there is more good in you than ill.” The queen pointed her blood red-tipped finger at Averell. “You have three nights to carry out this task.” Another round of laughter escaped her. “Two nights, really, for this one is almost expired. Kill Charming at his ball two nights hence or I shall snuff your life as I did your father’s.” She grinned, but there was no mirth in the gesture. “Remember, Mama loves you… or I would have had I not had other plans. Or been a different person.”

  Another cloud of green and purple glitter formed and then suddenly the queen vanished. After the colors faded, the darkness was that much thicker.

  Beside her, Quinn stiffened. “I must return home. The situation is most dire indeed.”

  Averell swallowed the sour sickness in her throat. How had her life come to this pass? Panic threatened and she clung to his hand. “Please don’t leave me alone.”

  “Averell…” The whisper from her father redirected her attention. She fell to her knees at his side once more.

  “Oh Papa, I’m so sorry.” She laid her head on his shoulder as his breathing grew more shallow.

  Quinn stood nearby, a perfect study of confliction, his body tense with wanting to run, but his expression shadowed with compassion. He remained, and she loved him all the more for it.

  “Find a way to outsmart her.” Her father gasped for breath. “Do not let her turn your heart to darkness.” The horrible rattle echoed in her ears. “Fight for the good that is in you—fight for love.”

  “I promise.” She wrapped her arms around him as he took his final inhalation.

  Then, he slumped against her, his heartbeat silenced.

  For a time, she cried as she held his body. Eventually, Quinn laid him on the ground and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “We must go,” he quietly cautioned as he drew her to her feet.

  “I cannot leave him here. It’s not right.” How was she to go on without him?

  “Averell, look at me.” Quinn put a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head until their gazes met. “We have to go, but I promise we will do right by your father. I’ll see to it personally.”

  What did that mean? She nodded. “Where are we going?”

  “To Annanvale.”

  She gasped. “You shouldn’t. Didn’t you hear what the queen said I had to do?” She shook her head. “If you work closely with the royal family, it is yo
ur sworn duty to protect them—from me.” Her eyes widened as she realized the enormity of the situation. She glanced at the dagger hanging from his belt. “Will you kill me?”

  “No. That is not my way.” Quinn tugged her into his arms. “However, once we attend to matters, we must talk, openly and without secrets. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.” Perhaps she would have her answers if only to understand him better. Her stomach bottomed out as she peered into his eyes that were amber once more. Shadowed with a need she didn’t understand but that circled deep within herself, those eyes haunted her soul and called to her. “Quinn?”

  “What?” He drew so close that their lips brushed as they spoke.

  “Thank you for not abandoning me after… everything.” It spoke volumes of his character that he remained with her.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. We all have sides of ourselves we don’t like for others to know about,” he said and then he claimed her mouth in a proper kiss.

  Bewildered, her head spinning, Averell sighed against his lips as pleasure washed over her. Kissing him was magic of its own, and as he moved his mouth over hers, she mirrored what he did. She kissed him back; his manly lips cradled hers perfectly. When she trailed the tip of her tongue along the flesh of the bottom one, Quinn groaned and the sound sent need lancing through her to bury itself between her thighs.

  This was real, this was right, this was… wonderful. Heat replaced the blood in her veins. Desire clouded her world. Yet the call she’d always known when around him strengthened. Whatever connected them wrapped around her, bringing her comfort and hope.

  As he pulled away, she murmured a protest. He grinned, his eyes almost glowing in the moonlight. “I agree with the sentiment, but now is not the time for exploring intimacy. We must go. There are many miles to cover this night.”

  “What of the queen’s task and my imminent demise?” Without the wonder of being in his arms, fear and grief rushed back in to overtake her prior joy.

  He released her to grab her hand. “We will puzzle that out as well.” Quinn lifter her hand and pressed a kiss into her gloved palm. “Trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. You’ll do well to remember that as time goes on.”

  She frowned as she retrieved her weaponry before they set off. Why did that have such an ominous ring to it?

  CHAPTER 6

  AVERELL’S MIND spun from many things as the sway of riding a horse lulled her into a drowsy mood.

  The death of her father brought heavy clouds of sadness. The sudden and startling appearance of her mother the queen—not to mention recently finding out her mother still lived—brought queasiness and fear. And the knowledge of the task she’d been ordered to undertake unless she too was killed brought dark hopelessness that gripped her chest with bands so tight she could hardly breathe. Yet each time she glanced over at Quinn who rode beside her, all of those things seemed more manageable as long as he was with her.

  “Doing all right?” he asked, the sound of his voice at odds with the hush of the night.

  “As well as can be expected under the circumstances,” she replied and kept her gaze focused on her horse’s ears. She lapsed back into her musings.

  After the kiss she’d shared with him that had further cemented the bond they enjoyed, Quinn had sprung into action. He’d cautioned her to remain with her father’s body, to prepare it the best she could for burial and to take whatever possessions she wished to keep, and then he’d vanished into the forest.

  While he was gone a centaur had come upon her, injured and limping from having a back hoof caught in a hunter’s trap. Unable to stand seeing another living being suffer, she’d helped free him and wrapped a torn strip from her skirts about his injury to quell the bleeding. In gratitude, the centaur promised he would help her in return if she needed him in the future. She had only to call upon his name— Tumius—and he would come no matter where she was.

  Quinn returned an hour later with two gray dappled horses which had black legs and black manes and tails. He’d also brought a few members of what appeared to be his original hunting party. If he questioned the discarded hunter’s trap lying upon the ground, he said nothing.

  How could he have brought those men and the horses, when they should have all gone back to their own kingdom?

  Too tired and confused to question him, she let the men—who remained silent except to murmur their condolences—dig a stout grave and then commit her father’s body into the ground. While she would have preferred the burial to have been closer to their home, she couldn’t shake the feeling the enchanted tree would no longer feature into her life. Would she ever see her home again? Mayhap it didn’t matter in light of what she’d been pressed to do. The dagger that had been used to kill her father, she’d taken. Perhaps it would prove handy in the future, especially if it still retained its poison. As soon as they’d covered the grave with the freshly dug earth, the men had left the area as quickly as they’d come.

  “Do I even want to know how you managed this?” she asked of Quinn as she’d gestured to the final resting spot of her father. Later, she would fashion an ornament of sorts and return to lay it on the dirt.

  “Probably not.” He’d grinned and tiny curls of pleasure erupted in her lower belly. “Someday I’ll explain. I promise.” Then he’d helped her onto the back of one of the horses, saying nothing as she settled into the saddle that was most assuredly not meant for a female, while her skirts rose to show a good portion of her legging-clad lower limbs. It was both scandalous and exhilarating. “We have a few hours of riding ahead.”

  The night wore on, and with every passing mile, her eyelids drooped further. Would that she’d fall into blessed sleep and find a cessation of the thoughts chasing around her mind. Quinn kept his own counsel, and for that she was grateful. Truly, there was nothing to say at the moment while her life crumbled around her.

  When the lavender and pink and golden light of dawn glimmered on the horizon, they halted. Quinn dismounted. He came to her horse and laid a hand on her leg, gently shaking her fully awake.

  “We’ve arrived.” Though his voice sounded as weary as she felt, he gave her a bright smile that crinkled the skin at the corners of his eyes.

  “You came a long way with a hunting party.” Averell swung her right leg over the pommel and when she slid from the saddle, his hands on her waist guided her down.

  He didn’t release her even when her feet found purchase on the ground. “The search for the white stag is ever elusive.” Quinn tugged her against him with a low chuckle. “Though what I found on that outing instead is infinitely more agreeable.”

  Heat fired in her cheeks and her heart squeezed. “I’m glad we met.”

  “Fated to meet,” he murmured and brushed his lips over hers. When he pulled away, he slipped an arm about her shoulders and drew her to the edge of the hill they’d stopped upon. “Behold the kingdom of Annanvale.”

  They’d come to the edge of the kingdom. Through the trees and at the top of a distant hill, a castle loomed through the clouds. The gray stone of its exterior reflected the colors of the sunrise and lent it an air of mystery and magic. Turrets and towers topped with slate shingles rose into the sky, while water in a moat around the bottom of the hill glimmered in the awakening sun.

  “It’s beautiful.” In the far distance behind the structure, a lake sparkled. The lands as far as she could see were sprinkled with small dwellings and fields filled with growing crops. Here and there, white and black dots of sheep moved. “It’s so peaceful.”

  “We labor hard to make certain Annanvale remains that way.” He left her side as the horses contented themselves with munching on the lush grasses on the hilltop. “Averell, the time for frank discussion is upon us.” The somberness in his tone brought her head up.

  “Are you well?” Anxiety clawed at her stomach. “After everything, I couldn’t bear it if you were to leave me, too.”

  “Do not stress yourself. I am hale and
hearty.” The space between them stretched until he was more than a five feet away. “I do not plan to leave so soon.”

  “Good.” She focused on the horse she’d ridden. Her bow still hung over the pommel—the bow she used to hunt. The weight of the impossible task pressed down on her, and she stifled the sob that rose in her throat. “All my life I was taught to kill out of necessity—for food, clothing or to sell the same for coin.” Slowly, she shook her head. “I am not certain I can assassinate someone, kill an innocent person for someone else’s whim.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “Yet… what am I to do? I don’t wish to die before my life has truly started,” she closed her statement on a whisper.

  “Everyone has a choice, sweeting.” His pause stretched out long. Finally, he faced her and sighed. “However, if up to me, I’d like the prince to remain alive, for Charming is my brother. His name is Henry, actually.” Quinn gestured to the castle. “That is my home.”

  What was he on about? She gasped and moved toward her horse. “You lied to me.” Her father had been right all along. The betrayal slammed into her gut with the force of a punch.

  “No.” He held up his hands. His words tumbled over themselves. “I didn’t tell you everything. We’ve only met. There wasn’t time. Surely you can agree. And it wasn’t as if you revealed your true parentage either. Daughter of the evil queen?”

  Heat slapped at her cheeks. “While that is true, in my defense, I had recently discovered it myself.” Averell released a frustrated breath. “And no, there hasn’t been time for everything. Not even time to grieve.” Another sob climbed her throat. It was all too much. “Perhaps there never will be now.” How unfair her life, when it had just become interesting, no longer belonged to her.

  “You cannot think like that,” he cautioned in a low voice, but he didn’t come toward her.

  Shock rolled through her as what he’d said sank into her consciousness and past the grief still numbing her mind. “You are a prince.” It wasn’t a question. All this time she’d been entertaining—kissing! —a spare prince. He was royalty and she was a commoner… well, even that was muddled at this point.