by Ana Calin
“All the more reason for you to be her first,” Sandros says. “And make sure she has an unforgettable experience. That way the poor thing will get at least a taste of what sensuality should feel like. With a little luck, in time, she might even guide Xerxes in the right direction.”
“I don’t think Xerxes wants to be guided. Her pleasure will never interest him. Better for her not to know what she’s missing out on. She would have to live with more than just the pain and disgust of being with that monster, she’d be full of frustration and regret, too. Besides, Xerxes could use my having taken her first as a pretext not to honor the blood bond we’ll make. The magic world allows that, if one of the parties genuinely feels betrayed.”
Sandros frowns his dark eyebrows. “Yeah, about that. Do we even know how to make a blood bond?”
“Our officers for Lore and Ancient History do. Edith Snowstorm’s family.”
“We’ll need more than that to—”
“Relax, I have a plan.” I pause, contemplating the situation. “I’d never do this without one. We’re standing at a vital crossroads in the history of all realms. This cold war between fire and winter fae has been going on for so long, and has been so bloody, that the chance of ending it is priceless.” I look into my half-brother’s eyes. “We can’t risk anything going wrong, Sandros.”
“So you’re basically sacrificing the girl, fully aware that she’s going to live a life of hell with Xerxes.”
My lips press in a hard line, but I have to look the truth in the face.
“If this were only about me alone, Sandros, I’d rather fight Xerxes to death than put the girl through this. But thousands upon thousands of fae lives depend on this. So many are dying every day in this war over supremacy.” I stare out at the ocean as the final sunrays drown into the horizon.
Arielle
“THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS, sick, unacceptable,” I snap as I pace my chamber. I hitch up the folds of my pale blue dress, and drop them angrily. “He’s not only selling me to the highest bidder, he has me dress up like a courtesan, too.”
Edith stares at me from the bed where she’s sitting with her legs tucked under her. The tense look in her otherwise soft brown eyes tells me she just wants me to calm down, I’m making her nervous.
I turn to the vanity table mirror, trying hard to keep back the swear words pooling in my mouth. I’m wearing a pompous dress with a corset that Edith helped tighten around my body, because Xerxes likes seeing women’s bare shoulders, especially when they’re delicate, like mine—or so Minerva relayed to us through Pablo, when she sent the dress. Also, she’d forwarded the order that my breasts should display a ‘nice swell’, without a necklace to soften the impact.
“I look like a—” I want to say prostitute, but clench my teeth on time. Pablo has just appeared in the door.
“Everything is set, Milady,” he says. “We’re leaving.”
Another reason why I could spit Lysander in the face. The man seems set on going from wrong to wronger every freaking day. That he sells me, and puts my life in danger, is one thing, but he also insisted that Edith and Pablo came along as my own small retinue, to mark my status as a noble fae.
I square my shoulders, and wait for Edith to join me before starting to the door. The guards wait for us to pass them, then I hear them marching behind us, their metallic footwear clamoring against the castle floor. By the time we reach the ground floor, where we can hear the ocean waves crashing against the castle’s rocky base, a small army has gathered behind us.
In the middle of the main hall we meet three other small armies—Minerva with her people to the left, her predator eyes fixed on me; Sandros with his military squad of fae in silver and metal to the right, and Lysander right in front of me in all his splendor. He’s wearing mailed armor that hugs his muscular body in a way that would make any woman drool, his shiny golden hair flowing to his broad shoulders, his chiseled warrior-king features set in grim determination.
Something stirs in my core when I look at him, but force myself to keep my wits about me. I clench my fists, hiding them behind my back, making sure that he can’t see that I’m struggling. I have to stop ogling Lysander, or he’ll realize that I have an urge to touch his body. It looks indestructible, and I can’t help wondering what it would feel like on me.
He takes a step forward, his men slamming their heels into the ground. It reverberates against the castle walls with the sound of war.
“As we expected, Xerxes has asked for a meeting, so he can see the ocean king’s descendant with his own eyes.”
I notice more fae noblemen appearing on the winding stairs that glow with icicles and magic, heads leaning over the ivory banister at the upper levels.
“The meeting will take place on neutral ground,” he continues, his powerful voice filling the hall, traveling upward to the gathering on the stairs. “The Flipside won’t do in this case. The danger of either of us having hidden allies is too great—his argument, not mine.”
“I know where this is going, and it’s unacceptable,” one of the gathered noblemen puts in. “We punish people for crossing those borders, we can’t break the rules ourselves. If crossing over becomes an option, many will find ways to take it.” I recognize him as one of the older fae from the Council, leaning on an ivory cane, bright magic coiling around it. Aunt Miriam told me about it, it’s the sort of magic that comes only with exquisite wisdom.
“It was Xerxes’ request, and I accepted,” Lysander replies. “I can’t back out of it anymore, Iridion. Besides, this will be a highly secured meeting, it will not meddle much with the human world. It’s taking place at sea.” His ice-blue eyes find mine. Damn it, why does my heart jump like this every time he looks at me? He is a villain, and I must resent him.
“What do you mean at sea?” old Iridion inquires.
“We’re meeting in the middle of the ocean,” he says. “It’s the safest thing to do, since we’re using the ocean as a portal. We dive in on the Flipside, and emerge in the mortal world at the spot where we’re supposed to meet. We come back the same way. With so much water around, Xerxes won’t have fire to draw on and hi-jack this.”
“It’s all well-thought of,” Sandros adds.
“Be careful, Milord,” Iridion warns. “I’m afraid you’re underestimating Xerxes. He’s known for his cunning. If he agreed to this, he might have an ace up in his sleeve.”
Lysander smiles. “So do I.”
People murmur. My eyes fly to Minerva, whose gaze is charged with lust. My teeth crunch.
Lysander walks closer to me, drawing my attention back to him. “Before you hate on me too hard for this dress,” he says low enough that only I can hear him, “Let me tell you it’s special. Once inside the water, you’ll see.”
Lysander signals two of the servants, and they come forth with clothes for Edith and Pablo. They bend their heads and stretch out both arms, offering the outfits to the sweet winter fae and the nerdy servant boy. The clothes are pale blue, the same color as my dress, but far less pretentious.
“Put them on, so that you can withstand the portal. The ocean can be vicious.”
The two servants accompany Edith and Pablo to a side room, where they can change. I look down at my dress. It’s got pretty folds that resemble sea waves, and the corset is made of a fabric that feels like satin. It’s beautiful, and it showcases the shape of my body nicely. At least I think it does, considering the way Lysander looks at me. It sends thrills down my spine.
“All right then,” Minerva raises her voice. “I will have the rescue squad ready. At the first sign you need us, we’re jumping into the portal.”
I stare at the army behind her. “You’d be bringing all of them?”
She stares me up and down like I’m beneath her. “The half-breed still underestimates supernatural power. She clearly thinks such a squad unnecessarily large and too heavily armed for the occasion. But maybe it’s better that way. If she did understand the complete scope of the threat she’s facing, she�
�d probably go mad.”
“I’m sure if I’d been given the chance to grow up in the supernatural world, I would have better knowledge of that scope. But unfortunately my family had to hide me away from supernaturals in order to keep me around, and breathing.”
Giggles ripple all around. A fae whispers, “she told her,” somewhere close. Waves of pleasant emotion touch my skin—not my own, but that of fae that actually start to like me simply for having defied this bitch. I can’t help but glance at Lysander, too curious for his reaction. I think I see a small smile in the corner of his beautiful mouth, but it might be just wishful thinking.
Crimson stains Minerva’s cheeks. She raises her sharp chin like a banshee, her thin lips sucking lemon until her mouth pulls into a dark red pucker. When she unclenches her jaw to say something, she doesn’t get the chance to. Edith and Pablo re-emerge, Edith in a simple, pale-blue dress, and Pablo in a suit. He is pleasant to the eye with his ashen hair and intelligent young features, and now that I see him dressed smartly, I notice he moves with almost the same grace as Edith.
“We’re meeting Xerxes on a cruise ship, the Belinda,” Lysander says. “We’ll use the ocean as portal, and when we emerge on the other side, we’ll swim to it.”
He faces me, as well as Edith and Pablo who flank me on each side.
“When we emerge into the mortal world,” he says, “we’ll have to find a way into the ship from underneath. We can’t risk anybody seeing us, whether crew or tourists. Since none of you three has experience with the ocean as a portal, you’ll need support. Edith goes with Sandros.” She petrifies when she hears it. One glance at Lysander’s half-brother is enough to understand why. Big, with his wild dark hair and those demonic golden eyes, he could drive chills into anyone, especially someone as delicate as Edith. “Pablo will go with Eldan, Sandros’ best soldier.” That’s the man on his right, a white-haired, sharp-eyed and hawk-nosed fae. “You, princess of the ocean, will go with me.”
My head snaps to him, my heart stopping. I stare at the beautiful king in his ice-metal mail that hugs his powerful body.
“No, you can’t burden yourself with that,” Minerva reacts, but I can hear the jealousy in her tone. “You’re the king, you’re far too important, you cannot risk—”
“The most important person now is Arielle,” he cuts her off, his eyes cold and sharp.
He holds out his hand for me, which has taken the form of a gauntlet. The moment my fingers touch the metal, a jolt goes through me. It’s cold, and so sleek it’s hard to believe that it’s organic. And yet it is, I know it.
I walk next to him, and I can’t help thinking he does it as if he’s taking me to the altar. He holds my gaze the entire time, and warmth rises inside of me, turning into heat. I bite my lower lip, afraid this is arousal, and he’s going to see it.
“Relax,” he says quietly. “Let me adjust your body temperature. It might get icy down there.”
He leads me to a huge archway opening to the ocean, presiding over all the others. My teeth start to chatter. I’m filled with both excitement and fear. When I think we’re going to step onto that ledge, and look down at the waves crashing against the rocks at the bottom... Luckily, Lysander understands perfectly what I’m going through.
He holds my hand as I step onto the ledge. My heart beats in my throat, and my blood pressure must have sky-rocketed. My vision blurs as I look down at the wild foamy waves that now rise higher, as if reaching for me, wanting to pull me down into them.
“Don’t be afraid,” Lysander says as he steps onto the ledge by my side. “Don’t focus on what we’re about to do, focus on the warmth in your body.”
I move my attention from the threatening ocean to the rising heat in my core, realizing it’s Lysander that’s causing it.
I look at him from the corner of my eye, his golden hair floating like silk around his head, his chiseled profile so beautiful that it hurts. The sharp lines of his cheekbones, the strong contour of his jaw, his skin that seems made of snow and ice, the bastard is magnificent. He could be so easy to love, if he weren’t a villain.
My eyes rest on his beautiful lips, sensual and yet with a strong, manly contour. I let his beauty pull me in, distract me from the awareness of what we’re about to do. And as I let it pervade me, I become aware of something else—Minerva’s glare stabbing my back, poisoned with jealousy.
“Just remember one thing,” Lysander says. “Before we hit the water, take a deep breath.”
A thought starts to form in my head, but Lysander jumps into the waves with me, and my mind goes blank.
I swear this moment falling down into the waves, hand in hand with Lysander, is the longest moment that ever existed in time. I cry out, a long sharp scream as my hair whips around me, the folds of my dress flapping loudly. The wind presses against my nostrils, making it impossible to breathe. The water races closer to my feet, and I manage to pull myself together enough to swallow a deep breath in the last second.
Our legs pierce the water, a high wave curling over us, pushing us under. Powerful currents pull at my feet, and my hand slips from Lysander’s sleek metallic grip. I scream No, bubbles leaving my mouth as the current pulls me under.
The dress begins transforming, crawling on my body like a second skin, to the point that it’s almost painful. It makes close contact with my body, squeezing the water off of me. I’ve lost the breath of air I’ve taken when I screamed, and I flail desperately, when I see Lysander’s face swimming to me, his golden hair floating around him.
When he’s close he wraps his metallic arms around me, and pulls me into a kiss. Time stops as I blink under water, feeling those perfectly contoured lips on mine. When he parts them and blows air into my mouth, I understand what he’s doing. I run my arms around his neck, and hold on to him as he swims downward, towards the dark depths of the ocean.
He unlocks himself from me, but holds my hand, which is now covered up to my fingertips in what seems like pale blue scales. The deeper we go the more the light fades, and the water pressure weighs heavier, pressing down on my back.
It’s amazing, experiencing the ocean like this. One by one colorful lights appear, adorning the darkness like stars in the sky, in colorful shapes so beautiful I forget what I’m doing here. It feels like I can touch galaxies in skies made of liquid void. I think about water predators, and whether or not they’d be dangerous to us, but I think we’ve been moving too fast for that. The pressure is now too much, but when I think I can’t take it anymore it just stops, and decreases as if time moves in reverse.
The heat inside my body keeps me connected to Lysander, in a way that makes us part of each other. I realize that I feel him inside me in an almost sexual way. His face, his hair, and his entire body are glowing, gold and ice and steel. A feeling of joy envelops me, a feeling that things are just as they’re supposed to be. The feeling is so strong and so pleasant that I stop kicking the water.
But something hits me from behind. I turn to look, but can’t see more than a whirl through the dark water. To my surprise, it seems we’re leaving it, and not heading toward it. Light starts to filter through the waves again like daylight through lace curtains. A school of fish races past us, creating a vacuum that pushes us back, but Lysander pulls me forward.
Soon I can see the surface rippling above my eyes. I emerge out of the water, drawing one deep breath. I tread the water, looking around. My wet hair clings to my forehead and my face, but I can still see Lysander, his hair glowing in the sunlight. His brother shoots up from the water, too, along with Edith, and Eldan with Pablo.
There’s only water as far as I can see, but Lysander points to something in the distance. His arm is now only corded muscle, white and glistening with seawater, without the metal and ice layers.
“There,” he says.
We all look in the direction he pointed, and spot a cruise ship. It’s far enough that it seems small, but close enough that I can make out its shape.
As we swim
towards the ship I wonder when we hit the bottom of the ocean. It all happened too fast, but I would have noticed if we’d hit solid ground. And I’m sure we never did. I make a mental note to ask Lysander if that’s how water portals work.
Cold starts to seep into my body. I remember it’s around Christmas time here in the mortal world.
“God, it’s freezing,” I say to Lysander, my teeth chattering. He reaches over and winds an arm around my waist, pulling me to his side. He’s completely naked in the water, his body white and shining beautifully like snow in the moonlight.
“Why is it colder than on the Flipside?”
“It’s not, but the connection between us ripped when we emerged at the surface. That connection was what kept you warm.”
As he drives warmth into my body, a Christmas tree adorned with lights becomes visible on the highest deck at the ship’s rear.
“I can’t believe it,” I whisper. “You arrested me from the mortal world in November, and it’s already been a month. It seemed like days to me.”
“Your confusion is normal, one can lose track of time in supernatural realms,” Lysander says as he swims towards the ship.
“Sure, especially when one goes through hell there,” I sting him.
“Now. Dive and follow me,” he says.
I can hear the air fill the others’ lungs as they pull in a deep breath. Lysander holds me firmly by my waist with one arm.
“Ready?”
I breathe in deeply, and nod. We dive in, hand in hand. He leads us under the ship.
The feeling is glorious, and overwhelming at the same time. Just imagine seeing the underbelly of the Titanic floating above you. It’s so close that the propellers could cut us to pieces. But they move slowly under water compared to our speed as Lysander pushes through the whirls they form. When we’re at the middle of the ship we swim sideways, rising to the surface.
Just a little above water level there’s a hatch.
“We have to move quickly,” Lysander says as the others join us. We form a tight cluster now, plastered to the ship’s side so nobody can see us. “If the ship tilts only a little it would be enough for water to seep in through the hatch, and the alarms would go off. We don’t want that kind of attention, it would lead to our discovery, so we have to move fast.”