Scorched Wings (Entangled with Trickery #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Dahlia

Dahlia’s pulse raced as the Frost King’s pitch gaze followed her, his mouth slack.

Hate burned there.

She stifled a sob and yanked her slingshot and blade from beneath the mattress.

Quickly, she shoved it in the pocket of her dress.

Lia gazed around the lavish darkened room with tear-filled eyes.

Nothing here belonged to her. She’d already taken every simple piece of jewelry and had hocked it, the coins hidden in the laundry room.

Glancing at the closet, she shook her head to dispel the panic threatening to fog her mind. The fancy dresses and expensive jewels from Astera would leave a trail. She couldn’t afford to take them.

The Frost King gasped out a breath, and Dahlia squeezed her eyes closed, salty tears tracking down her cheeks.

You cannot leave him.

Lia rushed to the ceramic pitcher next to the headboard and poured a glass of water, sloshing droplets off the sides as her hands shook. She was not sure what was in the poison ring, but maybe some water would help flush some of it out?

As if that could erase what you’ve done.

Dahlia moved back to the foot of the bed and slipped her hand beneath her husband’s strong neck and lifted his head, holding the trembling glass to his deep blue lips.

“Drink,” she rasped.

Neve glared up at her, his fingers twitching at his side.

“Lo bietelle.” She poured some water between his parted lips, but it trickled from the corner of his mouth, and out onto the bedding.

He’d refused to swallow. “I know you do not trust me, but there was no other way. You need to drink.” Her voice broke, and more tears dripped down her cheeks when he continued to glare at her, his pulse thrumming swiftly against her fingers.

Time was slipping away. It was only a matter of time before someone went looking for the king.

She needed to be long gone before that happened.

Lia set the cup on the trunk at the end of the bed and then wrapped the covers over Neve’s body as he began to shake. “Goodbye, Reillov,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his heated cheek.

Dahlia stepped away and turned her back to the giant who’d wormed his way into her heart. She gasped for breath and bent over, pressing her hands to her belly. Bile burned the back of her throat, and she dry-heaved.

Murderer.

Tears and snot mingled on her face as she dry-heaved again.

Killer.

She squeezed her eyes closed and tried to catch her breath as panic threatened to swallow her whole.

She couldn’t let fear cripple her. Lives were at stake.

Lia straightened through sheer will. She moved to the bed and used the edge of the covers to wipe her face clean.

She ran her shaking fingers through her tangled locks.

She pinched her cheeks and schooled her expression.

Time to perform.

“I do not deserve your forgiveness, but I am sorry for everything all the same. Please forgive me.”

She turned her back on him and strode to the door. Lia hesitated with her fingers on the doorknob.

Go. It’s now or never.

Lia spared the Frost King one last painful glance, his dark gaze searing her. “I’m so sorry,” she mouthed. She slipped out, closing the door behind her, smiling sheepishly at the guards stationed outside.

“Afternoon, gentlemen,” she said, hoping her pinched cheeks passed as a blush.

“Reilleve,” they murmured almost in unison, their knowing gazes running over her.

She knew what they saw. A rumpled female who looked well loved. Their drawn conclusions and her penchant for sneaking out would serve her well today.

Lia kept her pace sedate as she moved to the main staircase and downward to the glass corridor that faced the frozen lake and the famed Mirror Bridge. If anyone came looking, they’d search toward the main entrance. Hopefully.

Dahlia slipped into an alcove and darted into the servants’ entrance hidden behind it. Her legs shook as she raced down the stairway, the skirt of her dress trailing behind her. She’d just condemned the frost giant king to death.

At her own hand.

She gasped, sagging against the wall, her whole frame shaking.

“Murderer!” her conscience screamed.

Lia forced herself to continue, slowing only when she spotted a maid. The valles bobbed a curtsey but kept moving up the stairs. Becoming the roving, peculiar human queen had worked in her favor. No one batted an eye when they saw her skulking about the palace.

She took the next left and out, into the healer’s wing.

Momentary relief crashed over her as she spotted Loshika washing some herbs. It was a risk not leaving straight away, but she had to warn her friend. The giantess set her flora onto the counter and turned off the water.

“Reilleve,” the healer murmured. “What do I owe this pleasure?”

Lia forced a trembling smile onto her face, nodding to the other nonnae, who bowed before returning to their tasks. “Would you walk with me?”

Lo’s expression sharpened as she scanned Lia’s face. The healer dried her hands on her apron. “As you wish.”

Lia held her arm out to the giantess, then she led them back into the nearest servants’ stairway.

“What is wrong?” Loshika demanded, her lips pursed. “You are sweating and reek of fear.”

Dahlia swallowed hard, praying that she could trust the healer. “I’m leaving. Now.”

Lo blinked slowly. “You are running.” She cocked her head and inhaled deeply. Scenting Dahlia. “Have you been hurt?”

“No, but I cannot stay. Lives are at stake.”

“Why tell me?”

“Because you’ve been one of my dearest friends while in this frozen prison.” Her throat clogged, but she forced the words out. “I’ve done something that will put everyone close to me in danger.”

“You wanted to warn me.” Loshika pursed her lips and took Lia’s shaking hands in her own. “What have you done, Reilleve?”

“Treason,” she whispered. The word tasted bitter on her tongue.

The giantess soaked in her words. “You shouldn’t have told me that.”

“I had to. I know how Loriians deal with traitors.” She squeezed Lo’s much larger blue hands. “They slaughter family lines and all close connections. You must leave.” Lia shook her head. “I’m so sorry to jeopardize everything you have at the palace.”

Loshika blew out a short breath, her nose slightly wrinkling. “I never aspired to be here. The palace has never been for me.” She ducked to hold Dahlia’s gaze. “Where you go, I go.”

“I can’t ask that of you. Life will not be easy. It will be dangerous.” She blinked back her tears and swallowed the lump in her throat. Murderer. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“I know you and what lies in your heart.”

“But I’ve . . .”

“Not now. We must leave.” A pause. “But I expect you to tell me all once we escape this place.”

“I will.”

The giantess nodded once. “I never really unpacked. Let me grab my pack and gather my herb bags. We can get to the horses with the ruse that we’re foraging for herbs.

You’ll need to ditch your clothes. Stowed in the laundry, I presume?

” Lia blinked at Lo, who smiled sharply.

“Come now. We’ve spent a lot of time together.

Did you really think I didn’t know what you were up to some of the time?

” Loshika squeezed her forearm. “I’ll meet you there. ”

Lia nodded, her stomach churning. “Can I ask a favor?” The giantess arched a brow in question. “Will you send a healer up to the Reillov? He looked sick when I snuck out of our bed.” It wasn’t the smart decision, but she couldn’t leave him like that.

Her stupid fickle heart would be the death of her.

“It will be done.”

Dahlia bolted down the stairs, her heart in her throat. A million things could go wrong. Loshika could be betraying her right now. Someone could have discovered the king already. A servant could be gossiping about how she’d seen the queen shaking in the servants’ corridor.

She picked up her pace, arriving all too soon at the laundry. The warm air was almost suffocating as she entered. The servants bowed as she passed. Lia ducked into a linen closet, closed the door, and shucked off her fancy dress with shaking hands.

Clumsily, she donned a simple but heavy-made dress, leggings, and boots.

She slung her bag over her back and then tossed the plain cloak over the top, clasping the wool at her neck.

No one watched her as she slipped from the closet.

She weaved through the steaming vats of cloth and out into the servants’ hallway.

She pulled her hood over her hair and moved back into one of the hidden servants’ corridors and waited.

Time to see if the healer had really meant what she’d said.

Minutes later, Loshika appeared, bag in hand, no warriors in tow.

Lia waited a few moments longer before stepping out of the shadowed corridor.

The giantess caught sight of her and strode in her direction.

She caught Lia’s arm and pulled her back into the stairwell.

In silence, they fled to the bowels of the palace, their steps echoing on the stone spiral staircase that seemed to go on forever.

When they reached the bottom, Lia kept her chin downward as they entered the immense cavern that held the training grounds and horses. She kept pace with Lo. No one seemed to notice them. Each step she took toward freedom, Dahlia expected someone to call out or to give chase.

The hair at the back of her neck prickled as they entered the grassy paddock, and Lia searched for Anwen. Her guilt made it feel as if someone was watching them. Lia hesitated to call her mount as she scanned the area. No one seemed to be paying close attention to them, but her skin was crawling.

Because you’re a murderer.

“Don’t call your horse,” Loshika whispered. “Most mounts are for communal use. Only those with highborn blood own such a creature. Let’s move toward the waterfall, away from the training grounds. The guards won’t look twice at us if we play this right.”

Dahlia’s stomach dropped as they moved around the curving rock that jutted out into the grassy field. The waterfall loomed to the far right, crashing onto the jagged black rocks that protruded from the frozen lake edge.

Lo chose two horses for them, and they both mounted quickly.

Thank the stars the beast wasn’t as wide as Anwen.

Her thighs only slightly ached as she shifted to get comfortable on the immense beast. How she was going to ride bareback was something she’d worry about later.

First, they needed to escape the palace.

The pair approached the exit, and Loshika lifted a hand to the two warriors stationed on either side of the wide black-stone corridor leading out to the Glace Lake.

“More herbs?” the taller warrior drawled, looking bored, his gaze briefly flicking to Lia and back to Lo.

“It’s the perfect time for it,” Loshika replied. “The harvest is short this time of year.”

The shorter warrior grunted and waved them forward, his eyes tracing over Lia in disinterest. “There’s a storm brewing. Be careful, nonnae.”

“We always are.” Loshika clicked, softly urging her horse forward, Lia following suit.

She knotted her fingers in the creature’s mane to keep from shaking as they passed the guards, the horses’ hooves ringing against the stone. The frosty breeze nipped at her cheeks as they escaped into the biting fresh air.

Storm clouds gathered to the north, and the wind whipped across the ice, drifting snow. They needed to be well away from the palace before the storm hit.

“Did you send a healer to the Reillov?” she asked, her lips feeling numb.

“I did.”

Fear curled in her gut, chasing some of the numbness away. Surely, someone had found him already. They had to move. In her mind’s eye, she could see warriors swarming down the spiral staircases in search of them.

“We have to run.” She whistled, eyes to the sky. Astrylles were highly sensitive to their bonded’s call. Several circled above, one drawing closer.

Serenity. Time to go.

Loshika smiled, but it was all fangs. “Across the ice we shall go.”

Terror crashed over Dalia, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it as she followed the giantess.

Her mount picked up speed, never wavering on the ice, its studded hooves digging into the frozen lake.

Her jaw dropped as she spotted a gigantic color-changing fish racing beneath the ice, looking like bolts of watercolor.

As if called, she glanced over her shoulder to the palace that looked as though it was set on fire by the sunset. She couldn’t take back what she’d done, and it would likely haunt her for the rest of her life.

“Goodbye,” she whispered, the wind gobbling up her words.