by Bekah Harris
Oleander.
Sweet-smelling, beautiful, and deadly.
Chapter Twenty
Now that Jules was in the middle of a secret love triangle and doomed to be Prince Ardan’s obedient little puppet, things had been awkward. For instance, when the look of sheer horror shadowed Bear’s face when he had seen Ivy in the low-plunging black top, Jules had fought against every unfiltered instinct she possessed not to say something to him. She had confessed to Ivy and to Bear that she couldn’t be trusted because of the burning mark of doom Ardan had placed on her against her will, so there were things neither one of them could say to her that she desperately wanted to know.
But maybe she did know.
The only time she had seen them interact any more than a polite hello had been when Ivy had puked her royal guts out the night before, and Bear had held her up. Her best guess was that whatever feelings they’d had for each other at Kingston Academy were forbidden or banned or outlawed here in this never-ending winter. Not to mention the fact that Ivy’s new prince was apparently the jealous, possessive type, considering Jules had been unwittingly enlisted to spy on Ivy.
How did she get herself into these things?
The look on Ardan’s face when he had seen Ivy in that outfit had been Jules’ way of getting back at him. If she knew her best friend, Ardan wasn’t getting anywhere with her after the stunt he’d pulled the night before. Hopefully, she was making him grovel.
“You okay?” she asked.
Bear stood at attention beside Ivy’s door but his thoughts were miles away, judging by his vacant expression and tightly clenched fists.
“Fine,” he said. “Business as usual.”
“O—kay…?”
“I can’t get into it right now, Jules. And even if I could, I can’t trust that my words will be private. I don’t care about me, but right now, there are bigger things to consider than whether or not I’m okay.”
With that, Bear turned his head, the subject evidently closed for the foreseeable future. But something about the look on his face filled Jules with a sudden sadness that put a damper on her feelings of triumph over Ardan. Regardless of what Ivy wore, she was still trapped in an impossible situation.
“I’m getting some air,” Jules said. “Be back in a few.”
When Bear didn’t respond, she made her way down the bright white hallway until she came to a steep spiral staircase that led to French doors below. Shrugging, she hopped down the stairs and stepped into the cold winter air.
The courtyard or garden or whatever she was supposed to call it was breathtaking. The entire area had been landscaped to show off the beauty of the snow. A fountain served as the focal point with all the shoveled sidewalks leading to the centerpiece. The spray from the fountain had frozen mid-stream, creating a beautiful curtain of frozen water. All along the paths there were ice sculptures with features so real, they looked as if they’d been plucked from some wintry heaven—like God’s original models, cold and prismatic before He added light and color and blood.
She was examining a waist-high sculpture of a small boy when she heard the crunching of feet on the sidewalk behind her. When she turned, Padraic, Ardan’s older and more pleasant brother, was approaching.
Why are the hottest guys always the most unavailable? Such a waste.
While Ardan was good-looking in a Fae frat boy kind of way, Padraic was hot in a more responsible, wear-a-suit-to-work kind of way. They shared the same sharp, elfish slants and dark eyes, but Padraic’s were somehow less cruel than his brother’s, as if he really looked at you, rather than through you.
“Come to finish the job your brother started?” Jules asked. Just play it cool.
When Padraic smiled, his entire face changed. He looked lighter, less serious.
“Please don’t compare me to my brother. Bloodlines are truly the only thing we share.”
He held his arm out, as if he wanted her to take it. Must be a Fae thing—the chivalry. She had seen Bear lead Ivy around all over the Kingston campus the same way. She shrugged and snaked her arm through his. Why not?
“What are you doing here?” Jules asked. “The Winter castle is a popular place today.”
“Yes, so it would seem,” he replied. Did Jules detect a bit of sarcasm in his tone? “I have the unfortunate duty of escorting my brother to Queen Lyric today, watching him as if I’m his father, to make sure he makes amends with the Queen and Princess Ivy.”
“Sounds like a full-time job.”
“You have no idea.”
Padraic stopped then and turned Jules toward him. “Forgive me, but may I?”
He reached out as if he wanted to touch her hair. Jules shrugged again. “Sure, knock yourself out.”
Jules’ heart hammered against her sternum as Padraic stretched his hand toward her and gently touched the messy spikes of her hair.
“I didn’t expect something that looks so dangerously sharp to feel so soft.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what Ivy says about me in general: I’m milk chocolate with a hard candy shell.”
“What an interesting way to put it,” Padraic said.
Clearly, he had never eaten American candy.
Before he finished his examination of her, he traced the cold metal earrings she wore, his fingertips grazing her neck. Goosebumps pebbled up across her flesh.
Clearing his throat, he held out his arm again and continued walking. For the first time in her life, Jules was at a loss for words. Why did this guy make her so nervous? Had to be the otherworldly qualities—the greenish skin, the dark eyes. She’d never seen anyone as different or as beautiful as him, and the novelty of it made her a little squirmy.
“How are you enjoying your time in the Winter Court?” he asked.
“Not as much as I would be if your brother hadn’t tricked me into betraying my best friend. You wouldn’t happen to know an Unseelie royal who could undo what’s been done?”
“Barrett informed me about the Iron Cross. My brother should not have marked you, but it is not illegal in either realm.”
“Well, maybe it should be.”
“Perhaps when I am king, I shall remember this moment and abolish its practice. Until then, my brother’s business is his own. As it stands, nothing will change until I am king.”
“And when will that be?”
“Upon the death of my father.”
“Don’t faeries live forever?”
“Unless something tragic befalls them. You see the problem now?”
Jules nodded. What Ardan had done to her was totally legal. And as Ardan’s brother, Padraic couldn’t undo Jules’ mark without betraying his family. Which he was obviously not willing to do. She knew there had to be something wrong with him, if loyalty could be deemed a bad quality.
“As it stands, I am sorry you have been put in an uncomfortable situation with your friend. My best advice is to bear the mark with as much stealth as possible. Ardan will grow tired of his games soon enough, and then, I will see to it that you are released from your deal and returned home safely. Until then, Miss Juliet, I hope I shall see you often.”
What the h-e-double hockey sticks did he just say?
Had the future king of the Unseelie Court just said he was interested in dating her? She fought against the treacherous little beasts fluttering around in her belly and tried to suppress a blush that completely ignored her brain’s command by blossoming across her pale cheeks. Taking a shaky breath, she cleared her throat. Get ahold of yourself, loser.
“Um, not to be a downer or anything, but don’t you, like, have some dark Unseelie princess waiting for you back at the castle? I mean, she probably wouldn’t appreciate you spending your time with me, a lowly human. No better than a pet.”
“I have no contracted attachments if that is what you are asking. The Winter Queen sought her daughter’s engagement to my brother to unite the kingdoms. She needed our protection from Summer and Autumn. The Unseelie Realm stands alone, banished by the ki
ngdoms of Seelie after rebels from each seasonal court united and staged an uprising intended to loosen the rather stringent rules—such as contracted marriage—mandated by the other courts. That uprising failed, so its participants were banished from the Realm.”
“And so you established your own?”
“Exactly.”
“So, unlike Ivy, you can date who you want.”
“Yes, I can ‘date’ who I want.”
“Oh.”
Jules felt her cheeks flush once again and had just opened her mouth to change the subject when a scream pierced high and shrill above the silence. She followed the direction of the sound to Ivy’s window, which overlooked the courtyard.
Then, she met Padraic’s eyes.
“Should we be concerned about that?”
“Absolutely.”
Before Jules could panic, Padraic grabbed her hand and sprinted toward the castle door.
Chapter Twenty-One
The scream was like a thousand needles ripping through Bear’s flesh.
Pulling his dagger from its sheath, he kicked the door with as much force as he could muster without even bothering with the handle.
The first thing he registered was Ivy, kneeling beside her mother, who was sprawled on the floor at a strange angle. Lochlan was beside Ivy, barking commands at Madra to call extra guards to help. Ivy had closed her eyes, her shaking hands hovering over Lyric’s chest.
“Explain,” Bear barked to Ardan, who was watching the entire scene with a shocked expression.
“I can’t be certain,” the prince said. “She served us tea, took a couple of sips, and then collapsed.”
“Had you or Ivy tasted the tea yet?”
“No.”
She had been poisoned. Just like King Dristan.
Someone, somehow, had gained access to the kitchens and contaminated the Queen’s afternoon tea. Or, perhaps it had been done en route to Ivy’s room. The tea would have been prepared and then tasted by the royal cup-bearer. So it had to have happened between the cup-bearer’s approval and its service. Unless the cup-bearer himself had done it.
“Call for Alastair. Take him into custody.”
Madra nodded and headed off to summon more guards.
Bear grabbed one of the two untouched cups of tea setting on the service cart. Lifting it to his nose, he inhaled. The heady, floral aroma swirled through his senses. Then, he dipped a finger in the liquid and touched a drop of the tea to his tongue.
Oleander.
He spat the excess liquid on the floor.
The air grew colder, frost crackling around the edges of the window frame and snaking over the walls as Ivy concentrated. Her breaths were visible in the cold. Flakes of snow drifted down from the ceiling, swirling as the frigid air circulated, lifting Ivy’s hair from her neck.
Bear glanced at Lyric, whose eyes fluttered open for a moment as Ivy’s winter magic counteracted the poison.
“It was in all the cups? Not just the queen’s?”
Ardan’s question caused Bear slowly to turn in his direction. “Yes. In all the cups, yours included. Whoever poisoned the queen didn’t want to leave anything to chance.”
“Do you know what it is?”
“Oleander. Official flower of the Summer Court.”
Ardan looked visibly shaken. Bear was positive the Unseelie prince knew something he wasn’t saying, but the fact that the poison had been in his cup, too, was enough to rattle him. With a bit of persuasion, he would probably flip.
“Ardan, what’s happened?”
Bear turned to see Padraic, with Jules in tow, fly through the doorway and leap into action. He slid down beside Ivy and placed one of his hands over hers, lending her whatever Unseelie magic she needed. Bear had heard of power sharing between royals, but he had never actually seen the act put to use.
“Where in the hell are the guards?” Lochlan barked.
Seeing that Padraic was giving Ivy his strength, the head guard stood, pacing back and forth inside the room, holding his head. He had ordered the guards be alerted several minutes ago, and there were still none to be found. He was visibly torn. He needed to see what had happened to the others, but upon royal oath, personal guards to the royal family were forbidden from leaving the royals they were sworn to protect.
Gradually, a strange sort of heat seemed to rise up from the floor and permeate the room. Bear guarded the door, pushing Jules in front of him away from the point of entry. The frost on the windows rapidly thawed to water and streamed like tears down the glass. The snow from Ivy’s magic heated to slushy blobs that splatted against the Queen’s face.
“Ardan!” Padraic shouted, looking frantically at his younger brother.
“Do something!” Jules urged him.
Finally, after a moment’s hesitation, Ardan rushed to Ivy’s other side, placing his open hand on her back and concentrated. The air in the room grew cold again as it butted against the heat of summer magic. Bear searched the room for the source of the new power, his eyes darting from corner to corner. Then, with a faint buzzing sound, they appeared.
Dozens of Summer Court Guards, brandishing silver swords, their points trained on Lochlan and Bear, appeared from thin air in the middle of the room. They must have broken through the protective wards. Bear passed his knife to Jules for defense while he unsheathed the iron sword from his waist and waited for the Summer Fae, their fighting leathers the color of moss, to make the first move. Lochlan watched them all with lethal precision, and Bear could tell he was evaluating the best strategy to protect Lyric and Ivy. One of the Summer guards, the leader whose name Bear remembered was Rune, drew his sword and waited.
“We’ve come for the princess,” Rune said. “No one has to die.”
“I am sworn to protect the princess to the death,” Bear said in a low growl. He glanced at Ivy, who was staring at him with wide, pleading eyes. “So there’s going to be a fight.”
He could feel his eyes swirl as the magic that gathered inside him, cold and lethal. Rune didn’t move. Obviously, the Summer guards had found some way to enter the castle and prevent the guards from reaching them. Bear did the math. They were outnumbered by Summer, but they also had the advantage of both Winter and Unseelie magic, which, when combined, was a powerful asset. Based upon Rune’s expression, he had reached the same conclusion, but Bear knew the Summer Court had gone too far to turn back now.
Suddenly, an over-eager Summer guard burst from the back of their ranks toward Ivy. Bear narrowed his eyes, zeroing in on his target. Ivy had just registered what was happening when Bear launched his dagger, blade over hilt, propelled by Winter magic. Before Ivy could even raise her hands in defense, Bear’s knife collided with the guard, the iron blade penetrating his middle, knocking him several feet backward.
Fighting erupted then, the odds at least a dozen to one. The breath-stealing heat of
Summer collided with the brutal cold of Winter in exchanges of lethal icicles and swirling blasts of lightning. Bound by blood to protect the Queen and Princess, Padraic and Ardan joined the fight, both of them forcing dark ribbons of Unseelie magic rippling through the air and snaking around weapons, winding around ankles, tightening around throats. Summer weapons clattered to the floor. Fleshy pops thwacked in Bear’s ears as Summer soldiers fell to the ground. Strangled gasps echoed through Bear’s mind, tongues bulging out as Ardan and Padraic squeezed the life out of the Summer guards. Even Ivy, who was helping her mother to her feet, narrowed her eyes and focused in on one of the guards, who under her compulsion, turned his own blade on himself. The blood of the Summer Fae expanded beneath bodies in puddles turned black by Winter’s iron weapons. They were winning.
“Cease this fighting, at once!”
Queen Lyric had enough strength left to grab Ivy’s scepter from its spot against the wall and slam the circular edge of it against the marbled floor, sending forth a ripple of slippery ice that brought the guards to their knees.
“Enough!”
&nbs
p; Her voice was weak but still commanded silence. She struggled to stand as she clung to Ivy, who had helped her to her feet. The guards were still as they watched her.
“You have clearly prevented my guards from reaching us, and we are outnumbered. If I know King Zane, there are already more guards on the way. Now, tell me what it is you want.”
“Your daughter,” Rune said.
“No,” Lyric said. “If your King—and his mistress, I suspect—wish to take a prisoner, you shall take me.”
“No,” Ivy said. “No, let them take me. Let them take me. Your people need you.”
Lyric shook her head. “Our people need a leader, and you will make a fine one.” She turned to her daughter, affectionately tracing the curve of her face with her hand. “I gave you up once. I will never do it again.”
“But Milady,” Lochlan began—
Lyric silenced him with her hand. “Take care of her,” she said to him. “Protect her without fail.”
With that, Lyric pressed a frosty kiss into Ivy’s forehead, straightened her crown, and wobbled across the floor to accept Rune’s arm.
Lyric would be even more weakened by the heat of Summer, and if Alena was involved, there was no telling what horrors the queen would be subjected to. But Bear and Lochlan had both been commanded to let her go—and Queen Lyric’s orders had to be followed.
Lyric exchanged a long look with Ivy before she, along with the rest of the Summer guards, faded out of sight like a mirage, the sickly sweet smell of summer blossoms the only thing they left behind.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Something that had been stretching tight inside Ivy’s chest snapped the moment her mother disappeared. Now, Queen Lyric was a prisoner of the Summer Court. All around her, there was movement. Bear and Lochlan were speaking, their mouths moving, but Ivy couldn’t hear them over the shrill ringing in her ears. An arm snaked around her shoulders and pulled her close. Absently, she leaned into Ardan’s chest, accepting his offering but feeling none of the comfort he was attempting to give.