by K. Webster
“That’s enough,” Ryke barks, gripping my arm and yanking me back.
Yanna glowers at him. “Get your hands off my sister, you monster!”
Ryke summons his fires and his palm blazes red-hot, sending Yanna stepping back several paces. He snuffs out his heat and then pulls a cloth from his pocket.
When he reaches up and pulls my crown from my head, Yanna cries out in horror.
“Elzira,” she whimpers, fear in her voice. “Run.”
“If she runs, I’ll catch her,” Ryke promises in a wicked tone, sending a chill straight down my spine. He sets the crown at my feet and then he ties the cloth around my head, silencing me from speaking.
I don’t fight him.
I knew this was coming.
He uses his whip to bind my hands behind me, reminding me of our first encounter.
“Queens look pretty on their knees,” he rumbles, nudging the backs of my legs with his knees, forcing me to fall forward. He catches me by my hair before I land painfully and eases me the rest of the way down. “Lovely.”
“Elzira,” Yanna says tearfully. “I’m so sorry.”
Ryke snorts as he walks over to her. He toys with a dark strand of her hair, his heat making the air around him ripple.
“Why are you sorry?” he asks, his voice sounding slightly amused. “Because you can’t save her?”
She nods, fat tears streaking down her pretty face.
“All you’ve done your entire life is try to save hers,” he says as though he feels sorry for her. “You’ve dedicated your entire life to this dying, Cold Queen. Is that true, Princess?”
Yanna’s brows furl together and she cuts her eyes to his. “She’s my sister.”
“She is the present.” Ryke glances over at me, his fiery eyes cold. “What about the future, hmmm? When the frigid queen has drawn her last breath and is a queen no more, where does that leave the selfless sister?”
“I don’t know,” she murmurs, peeking up at him beneath her lashes. Her plump lips part and her jiggly breasts quiver with each breath she takes.
His fingertip strokes through the wetness of her cheek. “Perhaps a princess is ready to be promoted to a queen.”
She looks up at him, her lips twitching with a smile. “A queen?”
“Beautiful and feared,” he says. “A fiery queen of the Volcs.” His head nods my way and he walks over to me to run his fingers through my hair. “Are you weak, Yanna, like your dear sister here on her knees and missing her crown?”
It’s then my eyes lock with Yanna’s.
The love has hardened into something much harder than ice or stone or diamondblade.
Hate.
Her laugh is cruel as it echoes in the dining room. “Weak? I will never be weak…like her.”
I stiffen, affected more than I imagined by hearing the words tumble from her mouth.
“It’s her fault, you know,” Yanna says bitterly.
“Her fault?” Ryke goads. “Your mother’s death?”
Yanna trembles with anger. “No, our father’s favor. She was the cloth covering his eyes. Elzira, you blinded him.”
Ryke asks the question I wish I could.
“How so, Princess?”
“He was blind by his love toward her. His sureness of the fact she’d become a great queen one day. He favored her and treated me as an insignificant daughter. An ignorant child not worthy of love or a future.” Her features tighten with anger. “When they died, I vowed to dethrone the witch.” She sneers at me. “My mother made sure of that.”
My beast inside me rattles, desperate to ravage the world around me. Instead, I keep it on a tight leash.
“Your mother?” Ryke asks. “She betrayed the king?”
She shakes her head. “No, she loved him. So much so that she took him from Elzira’s mother.”
What?
“Go on,” he urges.
“She slowly poisoned her. So often, before bed, she’d whisper just how she’d done it, too. I listened in awe,” Yanna says dreamily, making my stomach clench in horror. “I learned.”
My poor mother. She wasn’t sick from some incurable disease. My mother was attacked by a friend who wanted her husband.
“You were a child, yes?” Ryke probes.
“The kingdom was to be mine,” Yanna hisses. “Mother promised me so many times. I was to be queen of the Norta Icelands.”
Her betrayal is a worse cut than that of Cavon’s. This one cuts to the soul.
Ryke walks over to her and leans in to inhale her. She relaxes at his proximity. “And now, Princess?”
“I could be your queen too,” she breathes, clearly taken by his handsomeness and decadent scent.
Ryke smiles at her, lighting up the entire room with the warmth of it. “I’d like that,” he croons. “But first, Princess, you must prove yourself to me. Loyalty is huge where I’m concerned. Trust is even bigger.”
She nods rapidly, her breasts bouncing in tandem with her nodding. “Anything, my king.”
A swell of fury sends a wave of snowflakes billowing around the room. Ryke cuts me with a hard glare. I take a deep breath and calm my emotions. He stares at me for a beat longer before turning to her.
“Kill Elzira. Here. Now. And then I will marry you. We’ll rule over both kingdoms side by side.” He smiles at her again. “You almost succeeded, didn’t you? Without my intervening?”
Yanna glances over at me, hatred gleaming in her eyes. “I tried,” she breathes, her neck burning red with anger. “Oh, how I tried.”
“The tonics?” he probes.
She frowns at him. “How did you now?”
“They don’t call me Truth Seeker for nothing, Princess.” He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Go on.”
“The billibone tonic takes away the pains in her stomach. The voxin leaf tonic gives her energy. The yellowberry tonic is known for attacking hidden diseases. When taken daily, she could keep death at bay.” Yanna laughs cruelly. “Poison, poison, and more poison.”
“Yellowberry?” he asks. “Honnin drops?”
She smirks. “Your father had them eradicated, but my mother grew them on the castle grounds. We continue to grow and harvest them.”
My stomach lurches, but for once, not from pain or sickness. It’s because I was so stupid all those years. Not until Ryke came along did I begin to see the facts he silently presented me with. He knew of my stubbornness and allowed me to come to my own conclusions. I may have come to them slowly, but I arrived there nonetheless.
“The chilly baths,” she continues, fueled on by her hate for me. “The lack of fire. All ways meant to send her to death sooner. I even tried to starve her.” She glowers at me. “But you just wouldn’t die, sister.”
Another wave of cold rage consumes me.
Ryke stalks over to me and kneels behind me, snarling in my ear. “You will remain on your knees, Punisher. You will obey me.” His fires sear me between my wrists and the smell of burnt hair fills my nostrils. He rises again and walks over to Yanna, taking her hand in his. “Let’s dine together, shall we?”
Icy tears roll down my cheeks. It’s painful to hold back. To not destroy her for her betrayal. Instead, I stay kneeling beside my crown, a queen disgraced.
He pulls out a chair and helps her sit before barking out to the servants to bring the meal. Familiar faces who’ve worked for me my entire life enter the room carrying covered dishes, their sneers fixated on me. When they see Yanna, they smile and nod, proud of her dirty work. Ryke sits on the edge of the table near Yanna.
“These are your loyal servants who betrayed your queen to aid you?” he asks, looking at each one.
“They are,” she says proudly.
The air around us chills as my fury goes unchecked. Steel scraping stone is the sound that can be heard as I produce my diamondblades. I sling them out, aiming for the servants who tried to kill me. Sickening sounds resonate as the blades make deadly purchase, sending them all falling to their feet.
Ryke shoots me a malevolent look when he yanks a blade from his shoulder blade. Had he not been sitting where he’s at, the blade would have taken out the rotten, betraying princess. Pity.
“Don’t worry,” Ryke purrs as he lifts a lid from a plate. “I won’t let her hurt you. We haven’t had breakfast yet.” He slides off the table and chuckles. “What? You don’t like pastries?”
She blinks in confusion at the plate. The same plate she offered me all these years when she was trying to get me to eat so I wouldn’t waste away and die. Little by little, she poisoned me with pastries and tea. She sucked out my life with cold baths and no fire. And I let her. I let her because she was my sister and I couldn’t see the truth.
The Truth Seeker saw what I couldn’t see, though.
He separated us and healed me. Kept me away from my killer. Loved me when I needed it most.
“What?” Ryke asks. “Not to your tastes?” He walks over to me and strokes my hair. “Perhaps we can come up with a more creative way for you to die.”
Her eyes widen when I grab my crown and rise to my feet. He takes it from me, places it on top of my head, and then brushes his lips over mine. “Get your vengeance, wife.”
“Wife?” she sputters. “What are you talking about?”
I grin wickedly at her. “While Ryke and I were negotiating, he opened my eyes. Then, he made love to me. He slowly rid your poison from my veins.” I turn to accept a deeper kiss from him. “And after he nearly died from poison that Cavon clearly got from you, we married in a quiet ceremony yesterday because I couldn’t bear to spend another second without him.”
“You witch,” she hisses.
“Did you really think someone like him could love someone like you?” I taunt, loving to see the traitor squirm. “Tell me, sister, can you make the sky rain ice?”
I motion downward and let out a scream of rage. Ice slams from the air and into the stone around her—tall spikes caging her in.
“Tell me, sister, can you make the temperature drop at the snap of your fingers?” I cackle when I snap and the air becomes deadly cold.
Her teeth chatter together as the air clouds white at her heavy breathing. “Y-You should have d-died! C-Cavon was weak! Your k-king is weak! Our f-father was weak! I’m t-the only strong one h-here! I d-deserve to b-be queen!”
I rush forward, summoning my cold through my fist and forming a sword forged of diamondblade. Her eyes widen as I near, but she has nowhere to run to. Between the bars of her icicle prison, I slide in my diamondblade sword right into her stomach. She gasps and gapes at me as though she can’t believe I’ve stabbed her.
“I wouldn’t die because I was meant to become this,” I snarl, pulling out my blade only to send it back through her chest. “A queen, a wife, a monster.”
Yanking my arm back, I punch out again, this time right below her heart. I purposefully miss it so I can prolong her death. Blood spurts from her mouth and then runs down her chin.
I stare at her unblinking until her lids droop and I can feel the life draining away from her. The thudding of her heart that could be felt vibrating through the diamondblade slows to a stop. She takes no more breaths. The last thing she saw was the fury of a queen she thought she could destroy. The betrayer was betrayed by her own flesh and blood.
Heat wraps around me from behind. Ryke’s hand grips my fist as he summons his fires. He melts the diamondblade sword enough to disconnect me from it and then he pulls me away from the carnage I created.
“How do you feel?” he asks, his face nuzzling the side of my head as he inhales my scent.
“Like the future is here and we’re ready to embark upon it together.”
He nips at my ear. “To the Hidden Lands we go, my wife. We’ve won the Battle of The Damned, but the Moral War awaits.”
Ryke
The day before…
“You’re brooding,” Elzira says from the window, her posture stiff and her tone cold. “A man planning to leave the one he loves broods. Are you truly planning to leave me?”
Bloody, infuriating woman.
Open your damn eyes.
Some truths need to be found, not revealed as a gift. The seeker must hunt and find them alone. This is Elzira’s path, not mine to forge for her.
“If you really believed that, I’d be dead,” I state. “We both know you’d never let me leave.”
She turns and scowls at me. Her blue eyes glisten with tears. A pause as heartache flashes in her gaze. I recognize truth being discovered, whether she wants to find said truth or not. “The honnin drops…” Her bottom lip wobbles. “Are they round and yellow?”
Ahh, smart queen.
“They are. I think I’ve heard them referred to as yellowberries here.” That’s my gift to you, my queen. A hint. Although I don’t think you need hints anymore.
A tear races down her cheek and she hastily swipes it away. “Billibone and voxin leaves? Did you know those are poisonous as well?”
I walk over to her and take her hands in mine. “Not at first, but Mazon confirmed it for me.”
“Why not tell me?” she demands. “Why let me discover this myself?”
“Would you have believed me if I told you your own sister was trying to kill you?” I ask, my brows furling. “You would’ve sent an icicle through my heart.”
She lets out a teary laugh. “I would have.”
Leaning forward, I kiss her forehead. “This castle is a tomb. Do you really want to stay here after it tried to kill you?”
A heavy sigh escapes her. “I don’t. I want to go with you to the Hidden Lands and then…” She frowns. “Back to your kingdom?”
“My castle is a relic. A representation of my father and the archaic ways of my bloodline. I don’t belong there, Elzira, any more than you belong here.” I kiss her plump lips that are warm. They once were chilled and blue, but not anymore.
“A castle in the Hidden Lands? We don’t even know what exists that way,” she argues.
“I’ve studied history books and pieced together what I think is the old lands of the gods before humans ever roamed the earth. Lands where people like you and I with our gifts had once lived. Lands that are now overrun by monsters who eat the flesh of humans. They’re smart and calculating unlike The Damned. I won’t rest until I’ve scoured those lands and made them my own. Until I’ve slayed every beast and won the Moral War.” I brush my thumb over her bottom lip. “Only the best for our children.”
“Our children?” Her blue eyes widen as she stares at me with hope gleaming in her gaze.
“I plan to marry you, the cold queen of the Norta Icelands, and hope you’re already impregnated by my seed. If it’s what you want, too, then we’ll marry this evening.”
Her smile is fleeting before she pushes back and curls her arms around her abdomen, her pain apparent. “I can’t let her live. I will have to kill my own sister.”
“She’s been trying her whole life to kill you. It must be done, my queen.”
She sighs heavily. “The fires…”
“We both know she isn’t allergic to sichee crawlers. She used your love and protectiveness over her as a weapon against you.”
“The baths…”
“Cold in hopes you’d catch your death by chill.”
She swipes another tear away. “In the back of my mind, I knew something wasn’t right. The way you’d behaved toward my sister and then how she’d been so fanatical about getting me my tonics…I knew.” Her head bows. “And yet I’d still been in denial.”
“It’s easy to be in denial when it comes to the ones you love.”
She sniffles. “It wasn’t until Cavon stabbed you that my world became clear. The moment you fell to the snow and didn’t get up, I knew. He’d poisoned you and all the thoughts I’d been denying crashed into me. I told Mazon to give you the gappenoil because it was the same thing he used to treat me. Cavon accessed that poison via my sister. I just knew.” The air dips several degrees. “How could I have been so blin
d? To both of them?”
“You were a child when your father was killed and you were forced to be queen,” I say gently, gripping her hips to pull her closer to me where she belongs. “You clung to the two people in your world and trusted them with all your heart. There’s no fault in love, my queen.”
“How do I know you won’t betray me one day, Volc?” she demands, turning her anger on me.
I smirk. “Because if I did, you’d impale me with your diamondblades.”
“Don’t forget it either, Ryke.”
“Never,” I vow.
Her body relaxes in my grip. “I want her to confess. Then, I want to make her pay.”
We spend the next hour planning her sister’s demise. And when we finish, I take my queen down to a quaint room where a priest awaits.
The affair is a simple one given two kingdoms are uniting. Neither of us is one for extravagance, therefore we’re eager for the joining and what it represents.
I asked Elzira if she wanted a diamond or a jewel on her finger, but she had something better in mind.
“Mark your queen as your now, forever, and always,” the priest instructs.
I take her left hand and extend her ring finger. Summoning my fires, I glance up at her before I do what I must. She lifts her chin in that powerful way that gets my cock hard and smiles. The scent of burning flesh infiltrates the air around us as the ice queen grits her teeth through the pain. When I finish burning a ring around her finger, I then follow it with my healing power, sealing the burn up and leaving a raised, pink scar in its wake. She pulls away her hand and grins at her new marking before turning her devilish eyes my way.
“Your turn, Volc.”
The priest snorts and then says the next part. “Mark your king as your now, forever, and always.”
She takes my hand and rather than burning me, she freezes the flesh on my finger until it turns black. It hurts, but I don’t dare pull away. When she’s finished, she heals me, leaving me with a pink scar that matches hers.
“A dark king and a white queen, bound together in matrimony until they take their dying breaths. I pronounce you King and Queen Bloodstone, first of their name, rulers of the Norta Icelands and Souta Volcanoes. Fire and ice. A powerful union no army, no ruler, no human shall ever break. Now kiss your queen and seal your fate, your highness.”