by Bekah Harris
Bear felt in that moment as if a dam had just collapsed inside him, like that secret place where he locked down all of his emotions had just erupted, laying his tortured heart at Ivy’s feet.
“Please, Bear. At least say you’ll think about it.”
Before he could stop himself, he was nodding.
Ivy exhaled in relief and smiled at him. The first genuine smile he had seen from her since they had left the human realm. And he was smiling, too. She wrapped her arms around him again, holding him close.
“We’d better get back in there before Lochlan comes back,” Bear said.
Nodding, Ivy lifted herself on her tiptoes and planted a soft kiss on his mouth. Feeling both lighter and heavier than he had ever felt in his life, he stepped discretely from her changing room to resume his post by the door.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Padraic hustled ahead of Ardan as they navigated the labyrinth of hallways inside the Winter Castle. They had ordered that their top five teams of covert operations accompany them and had just left them in Lochlan’s capable hands moments before. Now, they would stand with Princess Ivy, presenting a united front as they launched their search and rescue mission.
A flutter of movement caught Padraic’s eye as they rounded the corner, and he nearly stopped in the middle of the royal hall when he caught sight of Juliet McKinnon. If he thought she had been stunning before, in her unique, wild kind of way, she was breathtaking now. Dressed in full fighting leathers the color of the midnight sky that highlighted her fair skin and slight figure, it was difficult to believe she was human rather than Fae.
“Something catch your eye, brother?” Ardan asked.
Padraic fought to control his temper despite Ardan’s arrogant smirk. He was half the reason they were in this mess. Ardan had always been a spoiled, selfish child. Because he wasn’t the heir, he hadn’t been raised with the same level of strict discipline and schooling that Padraic had. His involvement with Alena was just another example among thousands of how weak-minded he was.
“Where’s the guard?” Ardan whispered. “Barrett is his name, isn’t it? Why isn’t he at the door?”
“Considering the Winter Court was just attacked and their queen kidnapped, I’d wager that he’s off doing his job.”
Still, Ardan’s face was shadowed, the bones of his cheeks giving him a hollow, harsh look. Padraic shook his head. It was a familiar look. The same expression that had always darkened his features whenever he suspected another of slighting him. Their Courts were on the brink of war, and his brother was worried his princess might prefer her guard over him. Perhaps she would like him better had he not been bedding the poor girl’s evil Auntie.
“Where’s Princess Ivy’s guard?” Ardan demanded when they had reached Juliet. “He is never supposed to leave her side.”
Juliet hesitated for a moment, Padraic noticed, twisting her arm and rubbing it just over the Iron Cross. His heart pounded inside his chest. He had never before interfered with his family’s more undesirable habits, but there was no way he could watch this beautiful creature burn to death for protecting her truest friend.
“And he hasn’t,” she said. “He’s inside with her.”
“Alone? I hardly think that’s proper. I thought Winter was supposed to be the traditional court.”
Juliet didn’t respond. Not that she would have known about traditions of the Faerie Realm. Still, she was wearing an unconcerned expression, but around the corners, her eyes were straining. Clearly, she was struggling. She didn’t want to lie to Ardan, but it would hurt her to betray her best friend.
They stopped in front of Ivy’s door, staring down at her. Juliet glanced at Padraic, as if pleading for help. He looked away, pretending to be unaffected. He would only interfere if there was no other way. But then, an arrogant, jealous smile crept across Ardan’s face. Padraic’s gut writhed in his middle, as his brother leaned forward and spoke.
“Juliet, why is Ivy alone with her guard? And why are you standing guard at the door in his stead?”
Padraic’s heart pounded in his chest. If Juliet lied to Ardan, the mark would burn her alive. If she betrayed Ivy, she would be committing treason. She was, after all, a guest of the Winter Court. Padraic clenched his fists, prepared to interfere, but the look on Juliet’s face stopped him. Instead of looking scared, she corrected her posture and stared up into Ardan’s cruel face.
“Because, of course, they’re in her room sucking face right now only an hour after her mother was kidnapped.”
Ardan stared at her a moment, torn between skepticism and belief.
“Really, Your Highness?” she added. “Nice to know you have such a high opinion of your fiancé. Bear’s helping her with a personal matter, and I’m standing watch, so that if any unwelcome guests should arrive, someone can alert them.”
“What kind of personal matter? Don’t forget what happens if you lie to me.”
Jules shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s personal.”
Padraic held his breath, waiting for the worst, but Juliet was perfectly fine. She hadn’t even broken a sweat. He raised his brows at Ardan, who eyed the human with skepticism. Padraic tried his best to hide his smile, but he wasn’t sure if he succeeded or not. Juliet was the most intriguing human he’d ever encountered. She revealed the truth with such acerbic sarcasm that Ardan didn’t actually believe the words she had just stated. It was a thing of beauty.
“Well, are you going to let us in?” Ardan snapped.
“Of course,” Juliet said.
She knocked lightly on the door and opened it to reveal Ivy standing at the window and Barrett nearly to the door. “Your Highness, Prince Padraic, Crown Prince of the Unseelie Court, and his brother.”
Ivy turned. “Won’t you please come in?”
If anything had been going on between Ivy and her guard, it wasn’t evident. She merely looked worried, probably over her mother. Barrett, on the other hand, looked as though he could take on the entire Summer Guard with his bare hands. Without a word, he stormed past them to resume his post at the outer door.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Lyric watched Alena saunter away just after the cell door rattled and clicked closed, locking her inside. She still felt tired and woozy from the Oleander that had been used to poison her tea. If she had been alone, she would have suffered the same fate as her husband.
Dristan.
He was a good man, but Lyric had never grown to love him as he had hoped. Despite his efforts, she had never felt more than friendship. It had always been a source of deep sadness for Lyric because she had always wished she had been capable. But her heart had belonged to Lochlan long before her father had abdicated the throne, making Lyric queen—which required her to marry. It had always been Lochlan. It would always be Lochlan.
She thought of him now. Lochlan was so unlike Dristan. Strong. Calm. Always so certain of himself. How could she have helped but love him? And when it came time to produce an heir, Dristan had been unable. For so long, Lyric had believed the fault had been hers. But then, she had conceived Ivy. Lochlan had worried for Lyric’s safety, but if Dristan ever suspected he wasn’t the father, he never said a word. Perhaps he never knew at all. He had always been more than happy laying the blame at Lyric’s feet.
She would never forget the moment she told him the news. Her stomach had twisted as she had entered his study.
“I am with child,” she had said. She recalled how she had fought to remain calm, her heart hammering wildly as she struggled to keep her voice even.
Dristan had risen from his chair, scooped her into his arms, and swung her around the room. “Finally,” he had said. “I thought this would never happen.”
And so Lyric’s secret was safe—and had been these seventeen years. Ivy was the product of her centuries-long affair with her guard. And it was her love for that daughter that had led Lyric to her dank, musty cell deep in the belly of the Summer Court. Her sister had made a dangerous power play—one
that would end her life if it failed.
And it would.
One thing Lyric had learned about her daughter in the past weeks was her unwavering sense of loyalty. Lyric had done what any mother would have done, and Ivy—fierce and loyal like iron—would come for her, bringing the full force of Winter with her. Perhaps the Unseelies, as well.
“Mother?”
The familiar voice pulled Lyric from her thoughts. When she looked up, she was startled to see Violet. Her human daughter stepped into the only patch of light in the room.
“Oh, Violet,” Lyric said. “Please tell me you were no part of this.”
Violet hung her head. The pain washed over Lyric in waves of heat that threatened to consume her. This human child she had loved almost instantly had been the one to betray her.
“I know you resent Ivy. I know you must hate me, but to help Alena…to aid her in her political games… She tried to poison us all, you know.”
“I don’t hate you or Ivy, Mother,” Violet whispered. “That’s just it. You freed me. You freed me from Prince Ardan and the Winter Court. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Lyric was silent for several moments, dumbstruck by Violet’s confession.
“Then why? Why would you help Alena?”
“She promised me safe passage to the Summer Court,” Violet said. “You have to know how I feel about Damarion. For weeks, I was by his side as you attempted to negotiate for peace with King Zane and Queen Vera.”
Prince Damarion. So that’s what this was about. Lyric felt as if she’d been struck with a closed fist.
“Oh, Violet. If you had truly wanted to come here after everything that happened, I could have helped you. But we talked about Prince Damarion before. I thought you understood.”
“How is Damarion any worse than Ardan? You can’t wait to marry Ivy off to him.”
Lyric’s heart swelled to bursting with pain. It made her sick to think of Ivy marrying Ardan, especially after learning he had been Alena’s little errand boy. But, then and now, it was impossible for Violet to marry a Summer prince.
“Prince Damarion is heir to a throne. He would never have married the heir of Winter. And Ardan, despite his shortcomings, will provide a necessary political alliance our Court desperately needs. All that aside, I fear Damarion would never be able to give you want you need, even now that you are free to marry.”
And what her daughter needed was love.
Violet didn’t have to say it. Its story was reflected in her eyes, etched into her features. Revealed in her actions. She had involved herself in Alena’s treasonous plot all for a Prince who could never truly be hers. Damarion, any Summer prince, really, would never give Violet the kind of devotion she craved. Even as a small child surrounded with every luxury the Winter court could provide, Violet had always wanted more than the material. One more hug before bedtime. One more story. More help with her studies. More walks in the garden.
“Oh, my sweet girl.”
Lyric’s tears flowed freely then. Perhaps if she hadn’t been queen. Perhaps if she hadn’t always been pressed by some matter of the Court, some plot against her, some looming war. Maybe if she had been able to be more of a mother, Violet wouldn’t be so desperate to love a Summer Prince. She would want the same sort of devotion from Prince Damarion—which was something the Summer Court would make impossible with its many distractions and frivolities.
“Alena said you would never help me gain entry to an enemy court,” Violet said. “She said she would get me close to Damarion. And she did. By the king’s orders, I am one of Queen Vera’s ladies.”
Lyric approached the door, slipping her hands through the bars. Violet, her eyes brimming with tears, took her hands.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered. “I didn’t know Alena would order them to take you. I swear I didn’t know. I stole the key. I helped her escape. But I never would have done anything to harm you.”
“She didn’t try to harm me,” Lyric said. “She tried to kill us both. Had she succeeded, she would’ve taken Ardan out, as well. What do you think Alena will do to you if you stand in her way?”
Violet stared at her, wide-eyed in disbelief. “She tried to kill you? All three of you?”
“It was Oleander,” Lyric added. “It was in our afternoon tea.”
“Just like Father.”
“Yes,” Lyric said. “I suppose that little mystery is finally cleared up at last.”
Violet slipped her hands from Lyric’s and began pacing, wringing her hands.
“What can I do? How can I help?”
“I need the Summer Queen,” Lyric said. “I need to speak with Queen Vera. If you have her ear or can slip her a written message, I know she will meet with me. I doubt she even knows I am here.”
“I’ll do my best,” Violet said. “Mother, I’m so very sorry.”
Lyric sighed. She couldn’t be angry with Violet. Not really. The entire situation could be traced back to the night she exchanged Ivy for Violet—both babes made changelings through no faults of their own. The pain that accompanied the truth was not their fault, either, but it was a burden they would all carry. A burden Lyric had acknowledged so many years ago but had allowed her love for her daughter to dominate her fear of consequences. And so she had taken the risk. The promise of Ivy’s return—and the love she was surprised to feel for Violet—had compelled her to see the plot through to the end. And now, they were all living with the consequences. Lyric sighed, looking at her beautiful human daughter.
“Violet, you weren’t mine to take, and you weren’t mine to love,” Lyric whispered. “But I did take you, and I do love you as if you were my own flesh and blood. I hope you know that, despite all of the ways I’ve failed you.”
Tears streamed freely down Violet’s cheeks. Nodding, she sniffled, held Lyric’s gaze for a moment more, and then turned away to blend with the shadows.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ivy stared into Ardan’s dark glare, raising her chin and straightening her spine. He and Padraic had sauntered through the door just as Bear was about to exit. The look Ardan had given Bear had been lethal, twisted and jealous like child in a tantrum because he refused to share his toys. Well, Ivy was nobody’s toy, least of all Ardan’s.
“You are his equal.” Her mother’s words echoed through her mind as she fought back the fear summoned by Ardan’s cold stare. Ardan, who had basically admitted to conspiring with Alena only a few hours ago. How dare he question her with such a look? As if he hadn’t been sleeping with the enemy for God only knows how long. It only made her more resolved that her decision to choose Bear was the right one—if Bear would only honor that choice...
Padraic cleared his throat, though, and the spell was broken. Ardan finally looked away.
“Let’s take a look, then,” Ivy said.
She crossed the room to the large table in the corner where she ate breakfast each day. Padraic unrolled a large map, along with what appeared to be blueprints, and spread them out for her to see.
“What are we looking at?” Jules asked, coming up beside them.
“This is a map of the Summer Court, and these are the plans for the Summer Palace,” Padraic said, pointing at a gray area near the bottom of the map. The blush that blossomed across Jules’ cheeks when Padraic addressed her didn’t escape Ivy’s attention. Well, well, well…
“This is the only way into Summer—through the south portals beyond the castle walls in the Hawthorn Wood. Once we are through the portal, we can take cover in the Forest of Midsummer. Our forces will then fan out and surround the castle. Our archers will create a diversion while our extraction team will go in and retrieve Queen Lyric.”
“And what if they fail?” Ivy asked.
“I’m leading the soldiers at arms,” Ardan said. “If anything goes wrong. We storm the castle with our weapons, infused with Unseelie magic, and unleash the Hellhounds and Red Caps. We’ll bring enough chaos that no one will be worried about who is escaping fro
m the dungeons. Winter will have its queen back by sunrise.”
Ivy met his eyes this time, but she could hold his gaze only for a moment before he glanced away with an unreadable expression. Was this his way of making amends? For telling her he was sorry for his part in Alena’s escape? Ardan didn’t exactly strike her as a military commander.
“I assure you I’m up to the task, Your Highness.” His tone was acerbic. Cold.
“No one ever suggested otherwise,” Ivy snapped.
Before she could say more, Lochlan entered, reporting that Winter’s remaining forces were on stand-by near the gate. Without another word, he stood behind Ivy, looking over her shoulder at the plans. He pointed to three alternate entrances to the Summer Castle.
“The queen will not be held in the main dungeons,” he said. “She will be kept in the lower dungeons where it will be difficult to penetrate. The castle curves just here—” he pointed to the far wall of the castle. “The ground slopes away from the structure, and there is a lower chamber where King Zane keeps prisoners he wishes to keep anonymous.”
“What happens to the prisoners in the lower chamber?” Jules asked.
“The worst things you can imagine,” Lochlan said. His eyes darkened then, swirling in a liquid brown current that reflected his anger. “Torture. Slow death. Starvation. Pain. If Alena has her way, this is where Queen Lyric will be.”
“Agreed,” Padraic said. “I would wager that no one in the Summer Court other than Alena, King Zane, and few trusted guards even know Queen Lyric has been captured.”
“Yes, the Summer Queen is not known for her willingness to share her husband,” Ardan said, meeting her eyes. “Something we have in common.”
His gaze was filled with such warning that Ivy fought to stand in place, rather than taking a few backward steps. Thankfully, Jules shut down the entire moment.
“You mean you don’t like to share King Zane with the Summer Queen?”