by Emma Hamm
Emerald Rose
Celestials Book 2
Emma Hamm
Copyright © 2020 by Emma Hamm
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
For all the little monsters out there <3
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Chapter 1
“Parry.”
Danielle shifted her weight, swinging the heavy sword as if she were stopping an attacker. She paused, closed her eyes and imagined the soldier she fought.
Armor covered his body. Heavy and silver, it would impede his movements more than her own supple leather. Although his strikes would be stronger, she was faster.
“Lunge.”
She twisted, then bolted forward. The sword tip struck her imaginary foe, but slid off his breastplate. She’d have to do better than that if she wanted to kill him and protect her family.
“Counter.”
Her feet tangled together as she tried to sidestep an imagined attack. Danielle stumbled, twisted her legs, then fell onto her bottom in the dirt.
“Damn it,” she muttered, laying flat on the ground and staring up at the clouds.
Fighting looked so much easier when the soldiers did it in the yard. They all fought with each other, not imagined opponents, and their feet rarely tripped them up. Some of them ended up in the dirt. But it was usually because someone else put them on their ass.
Not their own foolishness.
Groaning, Danielle rolled back onto her feet and lifted the sword once more. She continued through the movements she had observed from her room in the palace.
All this would be much easier if she had someone to teach her. Danielle couldn’t see what she looked like as she parried, let alone thrusted the sword. Her form was probably atrocious, and that was why she kept falling down.
She could only sneak into the mirrored ballroom so many times before a servant caught her. They would inevitably tell her father, and then all this would be over. He didn’t want her to learn how to fight. He wanted her to be the little princess everyone thought she should be.
As she practiced the movements, she grunted out the words that haunted her sleep. “Danielle, fix your skirts. Sit up straighter. Smile, the people will think you’re cold.”
If one more person told her to smile, she would run away to the forests and never return.
The imaginary attacker shifted in her vision. Danielle countered, her feet following the path they were supposed to this time. With a shout, she struck out with her blade in an arc that would have beheaded any man who stood before her.
Deep in a lunge, she paused. Her thighs shook with exertion, but she felt good. Healthier and more awake. Sitting on a plush cushion only made her feel ill. She wanted to be outside in the sun, but sunlight made freckles appear on her nose and no foreign prince wanted a princess with spots.
At least everyone claimed princes hated freckles.
“Find a prince, Danielle, and you’ll be happy for the rest of your life.” She sang the words, then crossed her eyes and let the sword fall into the grass.
Finding a prince wouldn’t make her happy. Finding a prince would make everything worse. They’d have opinions, tell her what to do with the country which was her god given right to rule alone.
Even her father agreed. She would become the maiden ruler of Hollow Hill. But her father would only step down once she had a husband to “help”.
Marriage wouldn’t make things easier. It would distract her because eventually she would need to procreate. The mere idea made her stomach clench and gorge rise in her throat. She wasn’t old enough for children, and she didn’t want to go through the pain. Not yet. Maybe never.
Sweat dripped down her brow and stung her eyes. She rubbed them, then stared back at the sky, tracking the sun so she wouldn’t be late to return.
This was meant to be a trip gathering herbs for the local herbalists. She was certain they wouldn’t tell her father she had delivered nothing. And hadn’t for the past five times she’d used the excuse.
Eventually, that story would dry up too.
But she loved coming here alone. To this field in the middle of the forest which surrounded Hollow Hill. Green grass filled a small circle where none of the trees had grown. Stones encircled the small area, and a brook babbled at the other side.
She made her way to the running water, sunlight sparkling across its surface and making spots dance in her vision. The water was crystal clear and tasted like perfumed air. Danielle had drunk from its waters so many times she could hardly count them. Her mother used to bring her here, before... everything.
She sank down in the plush moss at the edge of the water and dunked her hands into the stream. Icy water made her fingers sting.
She lifted a handful to her mouth and sipped, drinking deeply and banishing all thoughts of the court. That’s what her mother had always done here, after all. They would come to this field together, pick flowers, laugh at all the things the courtesans had done.
Now, her mother didn’t laugh at all.
Frowning, Danielle stared down at her reflection in the water and sighed. She’d pulled her long, blonde hair back from her face severely. A pretty face, although one which looked better smiling than it did frowning. Her father said she looked too aggressive when she wasn’t smiling.
He was probably right. Danielle’s lips were a little too thin, and when she pressed them together, they looked downright shrewish. Her brows arched too much, making her look judgemental and cruel. Her jaw was too square, her cheekbones too high.
For all her looks, she was made to be a warrior. She should have been fighting at the forefront of battle.
But they couldn’t afford to lose the firstborn princess of Hollow Hill. So instead of learning how to fight with the other soldiers, Danielle was here. Hiding in the forest, hoping no one found out she’d stolen a sword from the barracks.
She didn’t hear the bushes rustling until it was far too late. Perhaps if she’d kept her sword, she might have been more prepared. Just having the weapon made her more aware of her surroundings.
As it was, Danielle didn’t notice something was approaching until she heard a branch snap. A dark shape emerged behind her in the water’s reflection.
Her mind couldn’t quite process what it looked like, even as the stream warped its reflection. Large wings stretched from its back, horns reached above its head like a demon from the storybooks.
She didn’t react. She froze in place because there couldn’t be a monster looming above her
like a horrific nightmare come to life. Her mind must have conjured her worries into reality. It wasn’t possible the creature reached for her neck.
A clawed hand grasped the long column of her throat. She had a moment to gasp in a lungful of air before it pushed her down and dunked her head into the stream.
Cold water washed over her face and up to her neck. She burst into action, wrapping her hands around the strong fingers which only closed like a vise. Claws dug into her soft skin and she saw blood bloom in the water. The daggers attached to his hands sank deep into her shoulders, although she couldn’t feel the pain.
She scrabbled at the creature’s hand, trying hard to draw blood of her own. But it didn’t release its hold. It only squeezed harder until stars sparked in her vision and she couldn’t think of anything but death.
Was this how the princess of Hollow Hill died? Killed by a monster in the forest no one would ever know existed?
She wouldn’t allow it. Danielle forced her body to relax and when it thought she had drowned, she kicked out with her legs. One foot connected hard with its knee. The creature let out a grunt she heard even underwater and released its hold just long enough for her to wiggle free from its grasp.
Dragging herself across the stream, she scrambled to the other side and rolled onto her back.
It didn’t give her time to escape. The creature gave one heavy beat of its wings and then it was on top of her again. This time, it wrapped both hands around her throat and squeezed hard, pushing her into the ground with its weight.
Danielle held onto its wrists, but she couldn’t force it to release her. It sat upon her, straddling her waist and pinning her down.
She couldn’t move.
She couldn’t free herself from its grasp.
Wide eyed and terrified of the death which awaited her, she stared up at the pale creature. The wings she’d seen in the stream’s reflection were even more formidable this close.
Pale, almost ghostly, its ragged wings were filled with holes and faint white scars creating a lace pattern over the thin, lavender membrane. It had broken one of its horns at some point. The jagged edges had long since healed, yet the rough, half horn still looked painful.
Eerily, its face still looked human. A man’s face, though grey in tone and somehow wrong, stared down at her. His expression was twisted with aggression and hatred, yet familiar.
He might have been a man she would see on the street if not for his colored skin and fangs which poked out from his bottom jaw. How strange it was to be killed by a creature she never knew existed. That no one knew existed.
With the same suddenness as he attacked, the creature loosened his grip on her throat. He stared at the forest with a frown.
Danielle wheezed in as much air as possible, certain he would squeeze again. His claws still grazed her neck with clear intent. If she made a sound, he could rip out her throat.
The ringing in her ears stopped, replaced by the sound of thundering hooves approaching through the forest. Guards. Likely sent to search for her by her father, which meant this creature recognized the sound.
How did he know what horse hooves sounded like?
And it was certainly male. The creature leaned away from her, hands still placed at her neck, but she could see its broad shoulders, bare of even a stitch of clothing. The flat planes of his chest rippled with muscle. He was stronger than any soldier she’d seen in the yard. His muscles weren’t puffy like the human men she’d seen. Instead, they were wiry and strong.
She swallowed hard through the pain in her throat. A dribble of spit slid down her cheek, but she didn’t dare move. He stared intensely at the forest.
Perhaps he knew if the guards found her dead body, they would kill him. It didn’t matter who he was or why he was there. Ten guards could kill a creature such as this. Although, with wings, he might fly away.
A quiet whimper escaped her lips. The creature flicked his gaze to her, his censoring expression a warning.
“Please,” she whispered. “I don’t want to die.”
Danielle didn’t know the reason the creature had attacked her, but she didn’t think he was an animal. If he knew guards were dangerous, then he’d seen them before. And he wore clothing. She could feel fabric pressed against her belly where her shirt had ridden up. Animals didn’t wear clothing.
The sound of hooves approached, and the creature had to make a choice. He leaned close to her, his lips twisted in a snarl, staring into her eyes with so much hatred it made her sweat.
He dragged his claws down her throat, the fine points pricking her skin. She didn’t feel warm blood, but she knew he left welts.
His hot breath fanned over her mouth. Great puffs of air as he snarled, then released her neck to slap his hands onto the ground at either side of her head. She flinched, closed her eyes and accepted her end.
But death did not greet her.
Wind, stronger than any gale, slapped her face. When she opened her eyes, the creature was gone.
Danielle sucked in a deeper breath, terrified, her thoughts racing. Why had it left her? It had attacked her, it meant to kill her, and yet the soldiers made it leave her alone?
She scrambled toward the forest as the hoofbeats grew ever closer. They couldn’t see her like this. Soaking wet, clothing askew, bruises around her throat. What would they think?
Likely that she needed to be dragged back to her father and married off to avoid a scandal. No one would believe her if she said a monster crawled its way out of the forest. Hollow Hill was the safest place in all of Ember. They’d call her a liar and marry her off to the oldest prince they could find.
So, instead of begging the guards for help as she wanted to, Danielle hid in the bushes. The guards rode by with their silver saddles wearing azure plumed armor.
She pressed her hands to her lips to still the sobs shaking her shoulders as the anxiety and fear pressed down upon her. Why had the creature let her live?
It didn’t matter now, she supposed. She just had to make it back to the palace without it trying to kill her again.
Chapter 2
Danielle snuck in through the servant’s quarters, pulling her cloak over her head and darting past the few maids still in the kitchens. Most were in the washing stage of their daily work, which gave her the perfect opportunity to race past them.
The palace was stunning on a good day, but today it was immaculate. Likely some visiting prince was coming to speak with her father. That was the only time he wanted to make sure the palace sparkled.
And sparkle it did. The entire building was adorned in silver edges. The white marble floor bounced the light up to the tin ceilings. Marble figures lined each hallway, depicting gods and heroes who had saved Hollow Hill in the history books.
She always tried to rush past the statues. Their eyes followed her with disapproving gazes.
Danielle slipped through the halls on silent feet, hoping no one would stop her. Their princess was expected to be clothed in delicate fabric, gliding with a poised air. Instead, she wore leather leggings, a matching breastplate, and bruises around her neck like pearls.
Only one obstacle stood in the way between her private quarters and peace of mind.
Her father’s study.
She could already hear voices burbling from inside. Tense, hissed words muffled by grey ash doors. It boded well for their princess, but not for whoever was with her father.
Every footstep felt as though she were banging pots and pans, even though she was barefoot and deathly silent. He couldn’t possibly hear her. She’d taken her shoes off long before the palace so she could step with purpose. Her cloak didn’t drag on the ground, nor did any skirts grace her legs to slide along the marble.
Yet, Father’s voice rang through the door, “Daughter.”
Danielle froze, wincing. Maybe if she didn’t move, he would think he had misheard and would continue talking with the other man in the study. If only she could still her thundering heartbeat as well.
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“I know you’re out there, Danielle.” His grumbled words rang with anger held in check.
Her luck had always been terrible when she tried to hide from her father. No matter how quickly she ran, or how sly her plan, he knew her every move.
She tucked the neckline of the cloak closer to her chin, popping the lapel so it would hide as much of the bruises as possible. Wiping her slick palms on the fabric only made her feel a hint better. He would know she was nervous by the wrinkle in her brow.
Everything would be all right, she told herself. She just had to hide the bruising, and that could be covered with makeup for dinner tonight. He’d never know if she didn’t tell him. As long as he didn’t find out, she could continue her adventures. Otherwise, she would be bound to this castle until she turned to dust.
Still, her knees shook as she pushed the door open to the study.
Her father sat at his carved, white marble desk. His beard had been freshly cropped close to his face, black stubble striking against his pale skin. Vibrant blue eyes stared at her with enough disapproval to sear the skin from her bones. He wore the official colors of Hollow Hill, silver and icy blue.
She didn’t recognize the other man, although that wasn’t surprising. His long face made him look more like a weasel than a man. His suit was too big for his thin frame, and his eyes were too small for his face. The way he looked her up and down made her skin crawl.
And when she met his gaze, his face warped. His eyes sank deeper into their sockets, his cheeks become more hollow, and strange scars laced over his forehead. But then she blinked, and he was a normal man again.