by D. L. Boyles
“That’s the thing, Philip. When you discover the truth, the whole truth, about who I am…you will want to undo everything. This, this bond…what if it isn’t real?”
“Must we always fight?” he asked, giving her his best smile. Philip slid on his knees so that he was directly in front of her and reaching out, he pressed his hand against her back, drawing her in closer. “Not that I don’t enjoy our banter, but could you at least let me win once in a while?”
“To appease your male pride?” she asked. “Or because you can never achieve it on your own?”
Philip chuckled and brought his other hand up to touch her face. In the distance, he could hear and smell Nur, but he didn’t care. This moment was about him and Snow and nothing else.
“What are you doing, Philip?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
“I’m going to kiss you.” Her eyes flashed wide for a moment and that fear he’d seen on her face before dissolved, replaced by a desire that reflected his own.
“Why?”
“You have a habit of asking me that.”
“And you have a habit of not answering me,” she said.
“Because…I want to. Because, Snow, I have wanted to for a very long time and…and I do not care about the tesalari or the naked male who is watching us. It doesn’t matter what things I will discover about you, Snow. What matters is this moment and the next and the one after that. Each one of those moments will be the same because in each one, I will still want to kiss you.”
Snow grabbed hold of him and pulled his face to her slowly, her eyes watching his until they were so near to one another that her lashes fluttered shut. Philip brushed his lips over her eyelids, down the side of her face to her cheek. “Snow, tell me you want this, too.”
Her eyes flit open. “No matter how foolish it might be, Philip, I want this. I want you.”
Then, he pulled her closer, their bodies crushed together, and pressed his lips to hers. It was soft and tentative at first, but then he pushed further and she gasped, her fingers digging into his uninjured shoulder and into the hair at the back of his neck. She breathed his name but if she meant to say something, it was brushed away as his lips claimed hers once more. Snow’s body pressed against his, her lips moving in time with his own and for a long moment, everything in the world was as it should be.
Suddenly, Snow’s body went rigid and inhumanely still. One moment, she was alive with passion—directed at him—and the next, her head lulled backwards and her body went entirely limp in his arms.
“Snow!” Philip panicked. His shout brought Nur running in their direction, and despite all that he tried to revive her, Snow was unresponsive to everything around them.
Chapter Fifteen
The Sparrow and the Farewell
“King Stefan! Queen Isadora! Come quick, come quick!”
“What is it, Flora?” Stefan asked, jumping from the bed.
The maid beat on the door as though there was a fire.
Isadora was annoyed by the interruption. “Flora, can you not tell that we are busy?” Stefan had finally come into her chambers as he was seeking comfort for the loss of their daughter. The moments were few and far between when he came to her willingly. Most often, it was one of Merriweather’s draughts that lured him there. This morning, however, he came of his own volition and she loathed to have him removed.
Poor, poor Audora. Isadora almost missed the girl but not enough to truly mourn her absence. It had been a difficult eighteen years, feigning an attachment to a brat she would have rather given to The Hunter as she’d done with so many others. Merriweather had insisted back then, however, that the girl would be the key to establishing herself as the queen. Now that she was ‘gone,’ fallen asleep under Malecinth’s curse, Isadora could have Stefan to herself as it always should have been. Thanks to Malecinth, and The Hunter who aided in her efforts, she could now be free from all pretenses that she was a doting mother.
“I am sorry to interrupt, more than sorry for it,” Flora told them, curtseying with her eyes glued to the floor but not hesitating in the least to enter the room.
“Flora!” Isadora shouted, pulling the blanket up over her half-naked form. Flora had seen her fully naked, but not in such a compromising position with Stefan in the room. It was way too personal and she would reprimand her maid in a much more severe manner when Stefan was not looking.
“It could not be helped. I knew you would want to know right away.”
Flora looked up at them then, her eyes squinting at Stefan as though he might bite her and then at Isadora as though…she expected the worst.
“It’s Princess Audora. She is awake.”
∞∞∞
Audora sat up gasping for air, her hand flying to her throat, which burned as she sucked in mouthfuls. Her eyes were well-focused, her eyesight seemingly more efficient than it had been before. A hundred different smells assaulted her nose and her ears ached from the excessive noise of gathered people.
A soldier rushed to her, lifting what appeared to be a glass dome off her resting place, allowing it to crash to the stone floor of the courtyard into a million pieces. All around her, flowers were piled high and insects buzzed amongst them, the sounds of their tiny wings vibrating the air uncomfortably.
Another soldier reached out his hand and she took it, crawling off of what had been an obvious display case meant to showcase the sleeping princess—her. She took a few steps away from it, the crowd of gathering onlookers parting as she did so.
Several of them spoke to her, but what drew her attention was the familiar gasp of a maid she once trusted. Merriweather’s face was ashen, her mouth agape. Behind her, Flora and Fauna scampered away, eyes large, faces stricken.
“Where is the queen?” she asked no one in particular.
Soldiers snapped to attention, some hurrying to retrieve the queen, she supposed, which was fine by her. She’d not be here when Queen Isadora reached the courtyard. Never again would she call that woman mother, and never again would she trust her.
Reaching up a hand, she brushed her fingers across the tip of her ear, feeling the peak that had formed. Her tongue ran across her teeth, discovering the elongated canines she…expected? Someone in the crowd gasped but Audora paid them no mind. “Did you know?” To her, no one existed in that space but her and Merriweather, who nodded with a look somewhere between regret and pleasure.
“It seems you have changed since your birthday,” Merriweather said, a wry smile inching its way into her expression. “But if you have hopes of reaching another, you should fly away.”
“Fly?”
“If you are aware of the physical changes, Audora, you must be aware of the rest.”
She was. There was some bit of knowledge tickling the back of her mind, an awareness that hadn’t been there before. Unsure what it was, she allowed herself to reach for it, that subconscious thing that called to her. When she did, she surprised herself as well as everyone else. she was no longer a girl…but a bird.
The last thing she recalled of that courtyard were the stupefied looks of all those who watched her go, a happy grin on Merriweather’s face and the shrieking rage of the queen as she entered the courtyard several minutes too late.
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Thank you to all of you readers who purchased this book and gave it a try. I hope you will thoroughly enjoy Book Two, Broken Curse, coming out May 28, 2021. Get ready for an adventure into The Wilds and Winter.
If you liked this book, please consider leaving a review online. If you didn’t, well, while it may be a blow to my inner creative, sensitive soul, I would still appreciate your feedback in the form of a review so that I can adjust fire in the future.
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Final Thoughts and Thanks
This is the first book I’ve published. I was extremely nervous about it. You may not believe this, but I started off with Westerns as my literary (and TV) love, switched over to sappy contemporary romance novels courtesy of my Aunt Dee, progressed to historical fiction on random read recommendations from fellow soldiers, Amber and Carissa, then mixed it in with Christian fiction and Christian non-fiction, and eventually I fell in love with fantasy, which has firmly remained my true love. The scary part of that for me, however, is that my family and friends are fully grounded in one or all of my previous loved genres and looked at me like I was an alien when I said I was going to write fantasy, or shrugged their shoulders and said, “I don’t get into that.” And when I mentioned faeries, they had no clue what I was talking about and assumed I was writing about Tinker Bell. Getting those looks from your support network does not exactly boost one’s confidence. My husband was very wise and told me that if I’m writing to impress other people, it’s probably not worth the write anyway, just do what I love and have some fun. Thus, that is exactly what I did. Thank you, my love, for believing in me.
I promised my grandma that I’d dedicate my very first book to her whether she ever reads it or not. So, here it is, Gram. She was less than enthused with my genre and storyline when I pitched it to her over the phone, but she said, “Well, I always thought you’d make a good writer.” That was a boost, and when I called to tell her that I’d actually done it, she told me she was “tickled” to hear that I’d given it a try. Whether she reads it and loves it or not, I did it and I know she’s proud just like she was when I turned a plethora of ridiculous events and choices in my life into something good that she now smiles about. Well, maybe everything except for the tattoos and nose piercing.
I’d like to thank my kids for sacrificing mom time so that I could write and for putting up with my many moments of being “on a roll; Mommy’s off limits for the next fifteen minutes.” To my husband, who will probably never read my books but has been a huge champion who really pushed me to get it done, thank you. Thank you for believing in me and championing me to others. I could not have done this or any of the many other wild imaginings I’ve dreamt up over the past twenty years if it were not for you. And thank you, Kay and Pat, who have been like moms and friends all wrapped into one, and the rest of my hallelujah ladies who have gotten me through. You may not get into my fantasy kick, but you encouraged me anyway, even when you didn’t understand. Thank you to George and Erica and your promise to buy all my books even though you were amongst the ones who looked at me funny when I said I was writing ‘fantasy.’ To Dyan, a fellow author and friend, who offered support along the way. Thanks to my cousin, Greg, and his wife, Mandy, who volunteered to be one of the first to read my book. And I know I may be a bit of a rogue, but there was quite a bit of prayer – yes, prayer – that went into this book and whether you agree or disagree with some of my more intimate scenes from this book or the next, I did want to write something true to the genre and true to my own appeals. I have my personal beliefs about what is and isn’t appropriate that may go against another’s. Regardless, I tried to stay true to where I thought I was being led, and at the end of the day, we can agree to disagree if we must, but I wrote it and will stand by it. Thank you, again, to my grandma, Louise, who has always been an avid supporter of mine even when she didn’t particularly care for what I was doing, the order in which I was doing it, or the many blunders I made along the way. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Virginia and Lisa, who helped me and guided me through my blunders amid their own 2021 trials during power outages and crazy weather and never once deviated or blew me off. They gave me real and vital feedback that I will cherish, and between the two of them, I have no doubt I’m becoming a better writer. You’re both a blessing.
About The Author
D. L. Boyles
D. L. Boyles hails from the Midwest where she resides with her husband and three of their four children, their oldest now an adult and mom herself. Completing the family is her cat-dog duo - the jury is still out whether the dog thinks she's a cat or the cat thinks she's a dog, a few fish, and the fastest aquatic snail she's ever seen. She spent twelve years in the military and has a degree in Religious Studies and History. Her favorite things are coconut water, Fall, and planting trees...much to her husband's mowing dismay. As far as reading goes, D.L. Boyles is a lover of fantasy, historical fiction, and some contemporary fiction. As a mom who has done lots of driving with her kids, she's spent years making up stories to entertain them and now those stories are finally working their way into print - even if they aren't all reading material for the Littles. Want to keep connected? Check out the D.L. Boyles - Author Page on Facebook.