Chapter 1
Ask, and you shall receive.
Not.
Warm rays of sunlight blanket my skin. I roll my shoulders back and sigh. I tip my chin up, almost tempted to open my eyes and look into the sun.
“Don’t let him win.” My whisper is a chisel carving my wrath into my heart.
My eyes snap open. My nostrils flare. A faint scent of spice drifts in the air. The cool stone presses into my skin as I lean against the balcony.
The royal gardens blur; my gaze darts, swifter than a hawk diving for prey.
There, the markets. Distance hums of songs and cheer stretch across the grounds to reach my ears. Stalls overflow with goods now that the borders have been reopened. Even the lower markets, too far to be seen from my vantage point, share in the festivities.
That is why my husband doesn’t want me to leave the inner walls. The hatred between vampires and fae still lingers.
Sex with a vampire can only cure contempt for so long. Galen and I are not enemies-to-lovers; we are enemies-and-lovers. The ‘and’ is like a valley that keeps two mountains separated. It will never be filled. Mountains don’t cross paths overnight; it takes centuries to inch closer.
That’s a very long time. I’m willing to bet one of us will kill the other before then.
And after what my husband is about to do, his death is imminent.
No matter how many times I let Galen thrust into me, he still wants the attention of his people over the respect of his queen. So, I have no choice but to move on with my new plan.
Destroying the one thing he adores. His public image.
‘It’s what the people want,’ he claimed.
It’s been only one year since the vampires and fae declared peace. The era of The King’s War was finally over. It’s as if the soil of this world were mere fabric we assumed we could grab and sew into a quilt of our own desires.
Do those men who stole the land consider the plight women had to endure when sewing it back together? How mothers grieve sons and daughters who died in battle, how we are forced to be maidens again, who are hostesses that bring cheer to their guests, regardless of who the guests are?
That’s why men are such great rulers. They take, they don’t care. They lack the empathy that women possess. Women think and consider what we want, but by then, it’s gone. We are left with nothing.
I did consider my marriage to Galen. Yes, we are enemies, but maybe if he saw how strong I was, that could change.
Galen was shocked at my demand.
What do men do when they face someone as strong as they are?
They test them and plunge a knife in their back. They get rid of them, or if they are truly tyrannical kings, they keep them, make them feel less than, force them to heel, like you would a dog.
As Galen meets with his council, he thinks I have bowed down and accepted his rejection.
“Think again,” I whisper as I laugh bitterly under my breath.
“Queen Selene.” My lady’s maid steps out onto the balcony with a red velvet box in hand.
I don’t know her name, and yes, that makes me a bitch, but she’s also a spy for my husband, so that makes her a bitch, too.
I was not allowed to choose my ladies, but I was granted the choice of decorating my chambers, so there’s that. That should make me happy and agreeable, right?
My chest sinks. Don’t be a spoiled brat. Smile. Wider, yes, show your teeth.
It hurts my cheeks to smile this widely.
Too bad.
My eyes lock on the box she has in her hands. “Another gift from the king?” I ask.
I don’t want his gifts. I want him to do one thing for me and not the crown!
This marriage isn’t an alliance!
Don’t let the term alliance trick you. It’s always a precursor to war. Every other kingdom out there knows it, and they are preparing because kings like only two things. No, it’s not women and ale, jewels and crowns.
They like armies and land.
And now that my husband has my father’s backing, no other vampire king will dare challenge him. In fact, Galen will make it a point to march on our neighboring kingdoms to claim more land.
Soft fabric brushes my fingers as the maid gently pushes the gift into my hands. “He has sent an outfit for tonight’s feast, as well,” she says gently.
I eye the balcony. Should I throw myself off?
The number of feasts we have is causing my waist to grow. Even fae have to watch what we eat, just like the humans and mages do. “What is tonight’s dinner for?” I ask as I stare at the box; the plush velvet is smooth as water, and the fabric alone is worth a gold coin.
It’s heavy. Much too large to be earrings or a bracelet. Maybe he finally decided to collar me like the dog I feel like I am.
My maid glances down toward the market. “The feast is for the arrival of the Western squad. I believe a new general is to be named at the dinner.” Her tone is sharp and fast, like a fox running for its life as wolves chase it.
Each time a new general or leader deserving of praise comes back to the castle, the king throws a feast in his or her honor. He usually gives them land or titles, which is followed by another feast. Then, one more feast to send them on their way.
“What new general?” I demand. My vision pulses in sync with my furious heart. The box begins to slide from my sweltering grip.
“General Titus Tarragon, my Queen.”
You did it, Galen. You made sure I would never, ever love you!
My last hope that Galen would give in is choked off.
The box drops from my hands. My lady’s maid dives for it as if it were a newborn.
And me? I am on the verge of collapsing.
She reaches for my trembling hands and places the gift back into them, forcing me to accept it. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“You have nothing to be sorry for. This is the price of war.” Kings, princes, fathers, sons, brothers… they all die.
Just like my brother did.
War ignores titles. It’s the only time we’re all equal and can show how monstrous we are. That’s the only way to survive.
“Would you like me to start a bath for you? I can have a bottle of wine brought to you.”
Is she offering me death? To drink myself into a slumber? The water can grant me an exit.
I know Galen parades me like his trophy. I can accept that, but I want his respect along with his cock. Oh, and one more thing. I don’t want him to give a title to the man he was throwing a feast for tonight!
So many women often drink away their sorrows. I refuse to be one of them.
“Tell the smith to have my bow ready,” I coldly declare.
The maid’s face pales, but she nods and rushes out of the room. I scare the women in this court because I like to hold a bow more than a limp, drunken cock. My knife skills are better suited carving my arrows than chopping vegetables for dinner.
It earns me respect from many of my husband’s soldiers, but it fuels gossip among the chattering females. Neither of which Galen likes. He doesn’t want his men to respect me because I can fight, so he has built me a training field hidden from their eyes. A place of solace I actually do enjoy.
Sable, my twin, also wields weapons. Galen let’s her roam this castle freely. Hers manifest in a sharp tongue and a wealth of hidden secrets. She endures the long parties, drinks with the wives, flirts, and fucks the men.
They fail to see how she stops drinking and listens, collecting all their secrets.
Blades dull with use, but secrets are like diamonds, never chipping as they strike. The only thing that can destroy them is another diamond, another secret.
Sable is a rock that absorbs everything: cold-hearted, unmoving, uncaring.
Unlike a sponge, you can never squeeze Sable; you can never make her release anything unless it was on her terms. She’s much better at playing the role of a royal woman, but make no mistake—she is as conniving and vicious as a kingslayer.
You think I’m bad? Sable’s a new definition. As the second-born, she was taught she was less than, so she is determined to become more than everyone.
I slap my fist on the balcony, bracing it. “You knew this day would come and smack you in the face, so just make sure you don’t turn your head from the force of the blow. Don’t let them see how it affects you,” I hiss.
I clench my abs tight and shove away my tears.
I have never seen the soldier named Titus; oh, apologies, I mean General Titus. Ballads about him have reached my ears.
They haunt me, keep me awake, which allowed me the endless nights I needed in order to form a plan to kill him.
I’m going to get my revenge, whether my husband agrees or not.
Ballad of the Heart Thief
Hair black as night, sword held tight; Titus charged forth with a soldiers might.
Target in sight, he was ready to fight.
He aimed his dagger, causing the fae prince to stagger.
With one firm slice, he cut the prince open nice. Tore out his heart with just one dice!
He shoved the prince back, dropped him like stone, then claimed victory for our king to own.
And just like that, the war was done. Another crown was claimed, and all was said and done.