Kingdom of Roses and Flame (Fated Fairytales #2)

Chapter 1

Belle

I scanned the shadows beneath the trees, arrow nocked, my bow half drawn.

My sister Ella stood beside me, eyes closed, channeling her magic into the ancient oak. This was when she was at her most vulnerable. This was when I mattered.

Wood creaked and groaned as the tree stirred, its limbs moving, but not with the wind. Animated with her power, it would now stand guard, a new sentinel against the terror ravaging our land: the beasts.

“It’s done,” she said as her lavender eyes slowly opened, a mirror of my own. They took a moment to find me and were duller than they’d been minutes ago.

I lowered my bow.

My sister was the most dangerous creature in this place, with the power to speak to animals and command the forest. Yet every new enchantment took its toll, and exhaustion pulled at the corners of her mouth.

I wasn’t sure which weighed on her more: the burden of her magic or the crown she’d never asked for.

I placed my hand on her arm. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. You need to rest.”

She straightened, her chin raised. “I can’t. I’m queen.”

My jaw tightened, my chest hollow. She might be the queen of the Bloodvale, but I couldn’t help but see my little sister. The one I’d spent my life looking after. The one I’d promised our father I’d always protect.

Now she was the only one who could protect our kingdom.

My eyes flicked to the trees. The woods had grown still. I reached for an arrow, then paused as the roar of hundreds of beating wings filled the silence. We snapped our heads up as a flock of crows streaked across the blood-red sky, circling above us and calling out in a chorus of screams.

“There’s been another attack,” Ella said, her face draining of color. “They’ll lead us there.”

How many bodies would be left behind this time?

Ella whistled, and our horses galloped over. I looped my bow over my shoulder and swung up into the saddle as my sister did the same.

“Find Cassius!” she shouted to the crows, then spurred her mare as a part of the flock veered off, beating toward Castle Silverthorn.

Her husband, the king of the Bloodvale, was a bloodsucker, and the only one in the kingdom who’d fought one of the beasts on his own and lived.

We charged our mounts into the woods. Where branches should’ve torn my skin and roots tripped the horse, the forest pulled back, shaped by Ella’s magic. Trees groaned as their limbs bent, and a dark tunnel formed ahead of us.

Ella rode through the rain of falling leaves, her silver hair streaming behind her. The crows boiled above the canopy, leading us on, their shrieks an omen of what awaited us: death.

This was the seventh attack in a month. Almost twice as many as the month before. Not long ago, the beasts had never left the cursed woods.

They were growing restless.

A crimson light appeared ahead, and moments later, we burst from the tunnel into rolling pasture. The horses accelerated into the open, and I tightened my grip, struggling to keep my seat.

The birds flew in waves before us, beating toward a small cluster of farms and cottages, not unlike the homesteads near our manor.

I squinted against the setting sun, searching for movement along the dirt road that led to Silverthorn Castle, Ella’s new home. “Where’s Cassius?” I shouted over the drumming of hoofbeats. “Shouldn’t he be here by now?”

“I don’t know. It depends how long it took my birds to find him.”

Without the king, we wouldn’t stand a chance against the beasts. Their claws were made for ripping flesh from bone, their tusks for piercing armor.

My hand instinctively slipped to my bow. I’d probably be dead before I even nocked an arrow, but the bow had kept us fed in winter after Papa died, and the quiver was a comforting weight against my back, something to stave off the gnawing helplessness inside me.

We reined our horses in as we reached the first farm.

The old stone farmhouse could’ve just as easily been our home, the mangled bodies in the barnyard our own. They lay unmoving, lit by the setting sun, their blood seeping into the soil.

“We’re too late,” Ella whispered.

I didn’t have the heart to say that we were always going to be too late.

“Maybe there are survivors,” I whispered. That’s who we were here for, as faint as the hope might be.

She glanced at the crows circling over the fields, then slipped out of the saddle. “The beast is moving west. We have time to check.”

A dozen white shapes lay in the splintered remains of the sheep pen, their wool streaked with blood and dirt—a chilling reminder that the beasts didn’t hunt for food alone. It was terror they sought, and isolated farms like this one offered easy pickings.

“It’s probably hunting down the rest of the flock.” I twisted in my saddle to look toward the castle, its spires glinting in the distance. For a godsdamned bloodsucker, the king sure was slow. I dismounted and pulled an arrow from my quiver, setting it on the string. “Let’s get this done fast.”

Ella hurried forward and dropped by one of the bodies. She knew I couldn’t stomach the sight of blood; she’d always been the one to dress the game I brought home.

I picked my way through the yard, sorting the beast’s movements from the chaos of hoofprints the way I’d learned to read deer and boar.

It had slaughtered the sheep, then chased down the two farmhands, one after the other.

Then it had circled the house—not in a rage, but with purpose.

It was stalking its prey, looking for a way in.

Someone might still be inside.

I glanced back at my sister, who was kneeling beside the body of a woman. She shook her head. Both dead.

“Check the barn for survivors,” I said, noting the absence of tracks leading that way. “I’ll check the house.”

Slinging my bow over my shoulder, I hurried up the low slate steps and grasped the door handle.

Locked. A shiver raced over my skin, and for a second, my vision flickered—a woman fleeing.

The beast crashing through the room, ripping through her spine with its claws.

Her body, bloody and motionless among the fallen stones.

Bile burned the back of my throat, and I released the freezing handle, stumbling backward down the stairs. My hand was numb, the cold burrowing into my fingers as if I’d dipped them into ice water. What in the hells was that?

My overreactive imagination. That’s all.

And yet, I couldn’t shake the cold that had slipped beneath my skin.

Crows erupted from the rooftop, and I snapped my head to the west. The flock was racing toward us and fast. I bolted toward my sister.

“It’s coming back!” she shouted as she came around the side of the barn. “We need to get inside!”

I caught her arm. “No, the house is a trap.”

Her eyes widened. “The horses.”

Screeching crows lanced through the sky, and I yanked Ella against the side of the barn, clapping my hand over her mouth. “Too late,” I gritted between clenched teeth.

She froze. Gravel scuffed. Then a shadow shifted at the edge of the barn. I tightened my arms around my sister. The bow hung on my shoulder, dead weight. Shooting it would only draw attention.

If the beast came our way, there was only one thing I could do to buy Ella time.

Our horses bolted as a hulking shape lunged forward from behind the barn. It moved impossibly fast for something so large, but the horses had a lead, and they fled into the darkness before it could tear them down.

The beast lumbered to a stop. Double the size of a black bear, its shoulders were lined with jagged spikes, and its clawed hands could easily crush a man’s skull. It turned, angling its head as it sniffed the air. Then it went still.

Sweat slicked my skin. It had scented us.

We were fully exposed against the side of the barn, hidden by merely a stretch of shadow.

There was nothing we could use to defend ourselves, not even a pitchfork.

I eased my hand from Ella’s mouth and whispered, “Call the crows,” in the lowest tone I could manage. She nodded, then gave a sharp whistle.

The beast spun, but before it could lunge, the space between us exploded in a mass of feathers and beaks.

A furious bellow shook the air, and the beast tore at the crows as they swarmed around it, pecking and clawing relentlessly.

Step by step, it backed away. I turned and unlatched the barn door, then pulled Ella into the darkness.

We collided with a post, a bale of hay, the edge of a pen. And finally, a ladder.

Outside, the beast roared.

“Climb!” I shouted.

My sister scrambled up the rungs. I was right behind her, shoving the bow off my shoulder to push her up through the narrow opening, then hauling myself after.

Wood splintered beneath us, and I kicked the ladder away as the beast ripped through the wooden wall as if it were paper.

We froze near the hatch, not daring to move.

My eyes hadn’t yet adjusted, but the sickening scent of death wafted up as heavy footsteps stopped beneath us.

Gods, where was the king?

Squeezing Ella’s hand, I prayed the beast couldn’t hear the thundering in my chest. It sniffed, and its breathing turned into a low, rumbling growl—and then it slammed its claws into the beam beneath us. The wood began to splinter.

“Leave us!” Ella screamed, her voice filled with unnatural power.

The beast roared in cruel defiance of her magic, ripping into the wood with renewed fury. The beam shook, then splintered further. The slats beneath our feet lurched, and we stumbled backward against the hay.

“My power won’t affect it—” Ella tumbled to her knees beside the hatch as the monster’s claws ripped through the sagging floorboards.

Her magic, which could move a forest, meant nothing here. My bow was just as useless. I had to get her out of here.

I sprang forward and hauled Ella to her feet, shoving her toward the far end of the loft just as the floor beneath me gave way. I crashed down in an avalanche of hay and splintered wood, screaming.