CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The following days were a whirlwind of preparation. King Preston and Queen Nerissa gave me permission to order their seamstresses about, calling on them for any materials I needed. I worked cloistered in my chambers, utilizing a mannequin provided by a seamstress to hold my work-in-progress and a screen set in the corner of my bedroom to conceal it from view. In between communicating in secret with the rebels and tending to various tasks the king and queen gave her to help prepare for the ball—mostly, concocting various potions and tinctures that only a pixie could make—Aspen would visit with me or bring me untainted food.
In free moments, Aspen and Garrick each took turns escorting me to private areas of the castle where I could practice my magic undisturbed. Neither let me wander in the evenings anymore, not wanting to risk a chance encounter with a demon. The creatures were escaping earlier each night we drew closer to the solstice. More than once my sleep had been interrupted by the sounds of claws scraping along a stone corridor and shouts from guards fighting to subdue the creature.
Despite the power in my blood, Preston and Nerissa never called on me. Instead, they’d started commanding the guards to lock me in my rooms at night. The first evening I’d tested my doorknob, fury had burned in my chest, followed by worry. Did they know I was sneaking out to practice magic? Did they suspect Aspen and I were plotting? Or were they only being overprotective, ensuring their precious tool wasn’t injured or killed before the solstice?
If they did suspect us of anything, they made no accusations. At every dinner feast, Preston made a show of having me sit at his side, his willing possession. His trophy to display on his arm.
He and Nerissa didn’t tempt Garrick and me again either by sending the wolf shifter to my rooms to guard me. And they didn’t punish him for touching me either time I’d been attacked—not by demons and not by the fae in Northelm. But I didn’t fool myself for a moment into thinking the siblings’ lack of playing games with the two of us, their sudden disinterest in tormenting us, was a good thing. Instead, I knew it meant they were busy in preparations for the ball, solstice, and the coming wedding.
Each day, new items were delivered to my rooms. A wispy fae gown in shades of silver and black that was declared to be my wedding dress and was stored carefully in my wardrobe. A delicate silver tiara in a carved wooden case—one I knew was all for show, for I was to be a consort, not a ruler. A pair of flimsy black slippers to wear with my dress. Every time, maids with glazed eyes dropped off the items, leaving my stomach in knots at the way they avoided my questions about their personal lives or stared at me blankly.
I had to free them. I had to free us all.
The day of the ball dawned frigid, with billowing grey clouds gathering on the horizon, threatening a snowstorm. My stomach was a tangled ball of nerves as my maids brought me my breakfast, one I knew was laced with forget-me-nots, like always. After my days of exposure to the flowers and practice with my power, I felt more confident, though not nearly as confident as I’d hoped. I’d managed to conjure an ice blade on one occasion, but that was all. Anything beyond that or toying with frost and ice that I could dismiss with a flick of my hand had been impossible. It wasn’t as if I could have called on a snowstorm within the castle walls without giving myself away.
As I cradled my steaming mug of tea and gazed out the window, studying the clouds and wondering what the weather would bring, I tried to assure myself that the land was on my side. It knew my magic, my blood. It was connected to me, and I with it. I was meant to be here, meant to rule. Meant to protect this land from the undead souls and demons slipping through the entrance to the underworld.
The door creaked open, and Aspen, settled in a guard’s hand, dismissed the servants with a few whispered words before ordering the man to deposit her on my bed and leave. Once the door closed behind him, she sat cross-legged on the covers and studied me thoughtfully. “When the time comes, you’ll know what to do,” she said, as if reading my mind.
“A little magic isn’t the same as the power I need to wield.” I glanced down at the steam rising from my cup, enjoying the way it warmed my cheeks. “Coating the floor with ice so Preston and Nerissa might slip isn’t going to stop their death magic from wreaking havoc on our people.”
Aspen dipped her head. “True, but the fact that you can command a little power now even when in contact with the forget-me-nots is unheard of for pure-blooded fae. Before, you managed to wield powerful magic when your life was under threat, and you hadn’t consumed or been in contact with the flowers for several hours. Imagine what you’ll do today—not only with the message you’ll send in that gown—but also with the need to strike back and save lives.”
I traced the lip of my mug with one finger. Aspen and I had discussed many outcomes before, yet I still couldn’t help but ask the question again. “Do you think Preston and Nerissa would ever abdicate, or will we be forced to kill them?”
When I glanced at her, Aspen’s expression was tight. “Don’t feel any remorse or guilt for them, Ren. If they force us to end their bloody reign with more death, then so be it. They have killed so many. They have done so much to hurt you.”
I lifted my chin. “I’m not afraid. I’ve killed to protect Garrick, and I’d kill to save you too. You’re a good friend, Aspen. And I’d kill to save any other innocent person they tried to attack. I won’t hesitate if it comes to that. I just...” I frowned. “I wonder if killing them will make our future path much harder. The fae that support their rule will hate us even more if we slay their king and queen.”
“I’m afraid you’ll have resistance no matter what you do, with Silverfrost prejudice against humans ingrained so deeply. But you won’t be alone. I’ll be happy to stay by your side as an advisor, as long as you need me, and all my rebels would be proud to serve you.”
“Thank you.” I swallowed. “I suppose this is it then. The beginning.” And not an end, I prayed.
Aspen’s smile was radiant. “A wonderful beginning.”
Though it was only midday, the clouds had gathered in a thick blanket to stifle the sunlight and make it as dark as a gloomy evening. I sat quietly before my vanity, trying to ignore the glazed look in my maid’s eyes as she brushed through the long strands of my hair, leaving it to hang loose over my shoulders.
When she stepped back at last, I drew a deep breath and rose, crossing over to the full-length mirror in the corner of my room. I stared, taking in the effect of the ballgown gracing my form for the first time. Silver glitter dusted my eyelids, matching both my hair and the glistening strands in my dress. The sleeves were long and delicate, while the neckline dipped below my collarbones in a fae style without feeling immodest by human fashion standards. The skirts and bodice were full of stunning details, crafted with the fabric I’d found in Juniper’s shop and rippling with veins of silver and blue and violet, as well as bits of decorative black lace. And over all of it, enchanted with an elixir Aspen had concocted so their brittle, dried petals would not disintegrate and scatter, were sewn forget-me-nots.
From my sleeves to my bodice to my skirts, the blue flashed proudly everywhere. Stunning. Elegant. And the perfect message to Preston and Nerissa as well as the rest of the court and every ball attendee from Northelm: I would not be controlled, and my magic would not be contained. I was powerful, strong enough to withstand the forget-me-nots’ influence. Strong enough to withstand them.
Turning, I glanced over my shoulder to study the low dip of my dress in the back, revealing the Stormclaw emblem carved into my skin as well as the scars from the demon attack.
I couldn’t help the grin that curved my lips. I was ready.
A knock on the door had me turning, my pulse racing with anticipation. I couldn’t help it. Knowing Garrick was my usual escort and guard, I couldn’t wait to see his reaction to my gown. Couldn’t wait to have even a few minutes alone with him. Even if his mind wasn’t his own and the siblings controlled him, I knew I would draw comfort from his steady presence. I knew even if they forced him to fight on their side today, he was with Aspen and me.
After today, if all went well, he would be free of them. Never forced to be someone else’s pawn again.
When I turned, I was surprised to find I’d been so consumed in studying my dress that I hadn’t even heard the maids file out, leaving me alone. I stepped forward hopefully as I watched the knob turn.
Yet when the door opened, it wasn’t Garrick, but Preston who stepped inside. My stomach soured as his red eyes scanned me from head to toe, his nostrils flaring with annoyance.
“What is this?” he asked, his voice deadly quiet.
I lifted my chin defiantly. “My ballgown.” Ignoring the way my blood throbbed in my ears, I swept toward the door, eager to leave my chambers and avoid being alone with the king for a moment longer.
As I tried to push past him, Preston reached for my arm, pulling back at the last moment with a hiss when he realized he couldn’t grasp me without touching the forget-me-nots gracing my sleeve. I resisted the urge to grin in triumph as I opened the door and slipped out into the hall. The guards saluted as Preston trailed me.
He cornered me halfway down the hall, seizing me by the hair, where there was no danger of brushing against a petal, and roughly shoving me into a dark alcove. A marble statue of an old fae queen, her smile cruel and arrogant, leered down at us. “Your presence at this ball is meant to rally confidence in your magical abilities,” Preston snapped. “So what is this foolish display? Why would you cripple yourself?”
My eyes watered as I struggled against him, trying to wrench my hair free. “Don’t you know?” I gritted out. “Human blood isn’t affected by the flowers the way fae blood is.”
Preston’s eyes narrowed as he jerked my head back, forcing me to meet his gaze. “If you don’t obey...”
I swallowed, my words coming out bitter. “I know, you’ll punish me, because I ‘belong to you.’”
“No,” Preston snapped, leaning closer. Cold air enveloped me. When he ran an icy finger down my face, I shuddered. “I’ll punish your wolf.”
He released me abruptly, causing me to stumble. “Let’s go.” He stormed down the hallway, and I did my best to keep up.
Strains of music as instruments were tuned and the gentle rumble of conversation and laughter hit me before we rounded the final corner to the ballroom entrance. Beyond the double doors, servants milled about on a balcony overlooking the space, where countless candles flickering in chandeliers and candelabras cast a warm glow on everything. A wide staircase carpeted in blue and silver stretched down to the polished ballroom floor. Tiny sprites darted above the larger fae guests, their lights adding to the magical radiance of the night as they twirled through the air, moving to their own silent music. Glittering silver garlands, blue ribbons, and stunning bouquets of fresh white roses—gathered from I-knew-not-where—all added to the warmth of the party. It was a little jolting to take in, given the circumstances. Preston and Nerissa were the last people I would imagine hosting such an inviting party, but then again, hadn’t the would-be assassin accused them of extravagance and waste?
Perhaps this wasn’t only a way for them to enjoy excess, but also a means of providing a distraction. A garish celebration to celebrate me, Silverfrost’s savior, and to lull both the court and citizens from Northelm into a false sense of security, even as men and women were dying in battle against Ashwood. Even as Ashwood was invading our kingdom, pressing ever closer to the capital.
One of the servants posted near the doors dipped into a low bow at the sight of Preston and me before announcing us. “King Preston and his fiancée, Florentia Silverfrost!”
I forced a smile on my face as I stepped forward at Preston’s side. He refused to take my arm to escort me, avoiding the forget-me-nots. Instead, he seized my hand, his grip sharp and painful as he guided me toward the steps. My eyes swept the ballroom below, snagging on Nerissa, who was clothed in frothy layers of silver and blue, and then finding Garrick standing stiffly nearby. As at the last celebration, he was clothed in leather and a fur-lined vest, as if Nerissa refused to let him wear finer attire. Despite his status as her betrothed, it seemed she wanted everyone to forever remember that he was beneath her, a servant. Her hunter. And yet, the leather and fur complimented him perhaps better than anything else could. In the glow of the candles and the sprites’ flashing lights, his gold eyes were rich and warm and striking. His muscular figure might have been tall and imposing to others, but to me, the mere sight of him was a reminder of the reassurance and safety he offered me.
As Preston and I descended the stairs, the loud conversation and laughter ceased, guests quieting as they took in my dress. Heads dipped toward one another as winged women and horned men whispered to each other, speculating. I kept my demure smile firmly in place. Once I would have shunned such attention, seeking solitude in the human world, where anyone talking about me only meant shameful rumors and being rejected or mocked. But here? I wanted them to look. Let them fear and avoid me, or let them respect and follow me. Let them know I was not to be controlled or trifled with—that I was not meant to be a mere consort, but their queen.
I lifted my eyes again toward Garrick as Preston and I neared the last step and the crowd surged backward, parting to give us plenty of room. Normally, I would have assumed it was a sign of respect, but I knew better this time. This time, they were afraid, granting me a wide berth so as to avoid their skin accidentally brushing against my forget-me-nots. Garrick’s expression told me he wasn’t under Nerissa’s control, not yet at least. His eyes were locked on me, all-consuming. Heat licked at my cheeks as I returned his stare. I couldn’t read his expression, but I sensed he wished he could silently communicate something to me across the ballroom. That he was on my side? That he found me beautiful?
I was tired of unspoken words between us, of wishful thinking and hopes. After today, we would be free. And I ached to tell him how I felt, to see if there was even the chance of a future for us beyond friendship.
“Stay with me,” Preston muttered out of the corner of his mouth as the musicians began to play and conversations slowly resumed in earnest. Everyone we passed bowed or curtsied respectfully, their eyes barely lingering on their king before latching on me, tracing the petals gracing me from head to toe. I felt eyes burn into my back when I walked by and they glimpsed every scar carved into my skin. While the demon claw marks were a sign of what I’d survived, I wondered what their reactions were to the Stormclaw emblem. Did most think it was Preston’s right to mark me as his, lowly human that I was? Or were they repulsed by such an open display of his violence and cruelty?
I could only hope most thought the latter.
Time passed slowly as Preston escorted me in a slow circuit about the room, engaging in meaningless chatter with countless courtiers who studied me warily, offering backhanded compliments or honeyed words meant to flatter and win them my favor. I scanned the room surreptitiously any chance I had, taking note of where Aspen was perched on Juniper’s shoulder, chatting animatedly. Other rebels I recognized from the makeshift infirmary were posted about the room, looking for all the world like casual guests deep in their enjoyment of fae wine, rich food from the wide array laid out on the side tables, conversation, and dancing.
It took numerous conversations before anyone broached the topic of the flowers covering my dress. “I don’t understand the forget-me-nots,” a woman with slitted pupils that reminded me of those of a snake murmured. She flicked her gaze up and down, her lip curling in disgust. “I thought your power was supposed to dismiss the creatures back to the underworld.”
“The power in her blood will send them back and seal the entrance,” Preston cut in sharply before I could say anything. “Don’t fret about the forget-me-nots; they’re a silly human choice of hers. She knows the heavy price if she fails to close the door to the underworld.” He cast a sidelong glance at me, his eyes burning with a threat. Challenging me to dare to deny him.
I itched to show him what little effect the flowers now had on me. I longed to see the fear in his eyes when he saw his and Nerissa’s efforts had no longer leashed my power. But I wanted to wait for a moment when more of the court could see me, not here when we were in a corner of the room.
The woman sniffed, stepping back from the hem of my gown, apparently choosing to see my display as proof I was nothing but a weak human with pitiful magic. Not evidence I could overcome the flowers’ influence.
As Preston seized my elbow and led me away, the musicians launched into a new song. “Time to dance,” he muttered, and my one comfort was that he appeared as repulsed by the idea as I was.
While one of his cold hands latched onto my waist, the other grasped my hand, pulling me out onto the dance floor. I couldn’t help but wish that, like last time, someone would shoot an arrow at him and cut short this miserable show of ours. As we wove around other couples, nearing the center of the dance floor and drawing more eyes toward us, I drew a deep breath and concentrated. I pulled away from Preston, and before he could react, lifted a hand and directed icicles to form on the garland stretched overhead. They sparkled golden in the flickering light, drawing countless stares and inducing scattered gasps and whispers throughout the crowd.
Preston froze, his eyes widening with fear before narrowing in fury. He seized my wrist, yanking me toward him until I was uncomfortably close. “You’ve made your point, Snowflake,” he hissed. “Now dismiss the ice.”
I had countless rebels on my side and a plan to fight back today. I wasn’t afraid of him. “Why?” I asked. “Afraid my showy magic will prove to your court that I’m even more powerful than they’ve been led to believe?”
Preston scowled. We ended our dance in silence, and without another word, he slunk off the floor toward his sister, leaving me free to approach the tables. Per Aspen’s advice, I selected a glass of fae wine, sipping it as I dodged the courtiers who tried to approach me with questions. If they were on my side now, they would join the rebels and me later. Otherwise, I was in no mood for more shallow conversations and false politeness.
Slowly, I edged my way toward a shadowy corner, ducking behind one of the stone pillars stretching toward the ceiling. Here, I breathed a sigh of relief as I studied the crowd, awaiting Aspen’s signal. It felt like hours had dragged by already, and I was growing more anxious as time passed.
Downing the last of the wine in my glass, I froze when I noticed a fae servant slip through the crowd, approach the queen, and dip his head to whisper. Nerissa stiffened, spoke briefly to her brother, and then quietly vanished through one of the doors with the servant. I frowned, wondering what news she’d been given. Did anyone suspect the rebels’ plans, or did it have to do with the war? Preston made his way through the crowd, playing the role of charismatic host as if he wanted to do everything he could to distract his guests from noticing his sister’s absence.
And Garrick was nowhere to be seen. I set my empty glass down on the floor behind the pillar and sank against the wall, letting the chill emanating from the stone seep through my dress and cool my heated skin.
“I suppose you can learn all you need to know about a party if the guest of honor is hiding,” a low voice said at my side.
I startled, turning to see Garrick leaning against the wall nearby, his gold eyes luminescent in the shadow cast by the pillar. “You managed to slip away too,” I said, grinning.
“You look...” Garrick hesitated, tipping his head as he scanned my form, as if he hadn’t already stared at me the entire time I’d entered the ball. “Ethereal.”
Hoping he couldn’t see the blush staining my cheeks, I settled back against the wall, turning my tone playful. “Ethereal? Whatever do you mean?”
Garrick stepped closer, his voice pitching lower. “I think you know, Starlight.”
My heart slammed into my chest as wild and hopeful thoughts spun through my head. “Garrick,” I whispered, “will you dance with me?”
Regret flashed in his gaze. “I can’t.”
My eyes darted about our concealed space. “Then not out there. Here.”
Garrick shook his head. “It’s not that.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against the wall, keeping a careful distance between us. “They forbade me to touch you at all. Even if I only touched your sleeve or put my hand on your waist.” His throat worked as he swallowed. “It”s another test of my obedience when I have free will, and you know what they”d do if I failed it. I can’t be the one to hurt you again.”
My heart sank. Of course Preston and Nerissa were still playing their sick games, making the rules even stricter when they suspected I would be more tempted than ever to touch Garrick. “Then let’s dance like we would in the mortal world, only never holding hands.” I stepped forward, turning to the side and pulling my arm close against my hip.
He blinked, as if recalling some of the dances he’d witnessed at the ball in my hometown, the night we first met. How did it already feel so long ago, when only days had passed? He mimicked my stance, stepping up beside me and keeping his own hand held carefully away so it wouldn’t graze mine accidentally. We moved slowly to the music, circling one another and then reaching out our hands as we spun together—never holding hands, never even letting them brush. Our bodies never collided as we stepped near enough that I could feel his warmth, but stayed far enough apart that I could only dream of him pulling me in, dancing with me as Preston had.
“See?” I said with a grin as we paused across from one another, the song coming to an end. “We can still dance as friends.”
Something flared in Garrick’s eyes as a new song began. In a blink, he’d stepped so close to me I was forced to move away, my back striking the stone wall. “What?” His eyes burned.
“I said we can still dance as friends,” I managed, scanning his expression, trying to read the look on his face.
“Friends.” The word came out husky as he pressed his hands on either side of my body, hemming me in without touching me. He dipped his head to meet my gaze, trapping me in the molten gold of his eyes. “If I could touch you, Starlight, I would not be dancing with you as a friend. I wouldn’t touch you as a friend.” I couldn’t move as he leaned closer, his breath caressing my face. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched his fingers flex against the wall, as if it took every ounce of his strength to hold himself back from touching me. “If I could,” he went on, “I would ensure every touch I gave you was searing. I would kiss you until your knees went weak.” He pulled back, inhaling sharply as if he’d been struggling for air too. There was a desperate look on his face, a heart-wrenching tangle of hope and despair, desire and adoration. “Because...I might never deserve you—and I might be forced to obey them, my very body belonging to them to control—but every piece of my heart belongs to you, my Starlight. Gods have mercy on me, but you’ve captivated me from the first moment I saw you, and you’ve enchanted me every moment since. I shouldn’t even dare to think the words, and they don’t feel like enough...but I love you. So don’t call me a friend, I beg of you. Even if you don’t feel the same, please spare me that. I already have to watch him touch you and claim you, and it’s the worst sort of torment.”
My thoughts were wild, my heart light. He loved me. No matter what today brought, I could cling to that. It was his freedom I fought for. Our future. Our love. For that, I could win. I would win.
“You...love me?” My voice came out strangled. I shook my head to clear it, my thoughts racing. “But they cannot own you after this evening, and Preston won’t be able to pretend I’m his. We can’t let them dictate what we do anymore. They won’t hurt us again, Garrick.” I studied his face—the white-blond lock of hair across his brow, the beautiful gold of his eyes, the stubble dotting his jaw—and gathered my courage. “Kiss me.”
Garrick’s eyes widened, his breaths turning uneven. “What?”
I lifted my head the smallest bit, desperate to close the gap between us but also not wanting to risk something he wasn’t willing to chance as well. “Kiss. Me.”
Those two words were all it took to snap the last of Garrick’s restraint. His hands moved immediately, cradling my face as he lifted my chin and closed the remaining space between us. His body molded to mine, and his mouth consumed me. There was so much want, so much need, between us, every caress of our lips sharing the words we’d left unspoken for so long, making vows of a future I finally dared to believe was within our reach. He ran his thumbs along my jaw, tangled his fingers in my hair, dropped his other hand to my waist and tugged me into his embrace. Just as he’d promised, his every touch was searing, as if his fingers could brand me, claiming me as his and undoing every unwanted touch and awful scar left by Preston. And his kiss was devouring yet tender, turning my head light and my knees wobbly.
When we broke apart at last, gasping, a glint of mischief flashed in Garrick’s eyes. “This is where you ask me, Starlight.”
“What?”
He flashed his teeth in a wide grin, his eyes darting to my lips. That was when I remembered the words he’d said the first night we met, and my heart jolted, but not unpleasantly. I won’t bite...unless you ask me to.
I swallowed, a blush suffusing my cheeks. “I... Will you?”
“Close enough,” Garrick said huskily, leaning forward to capture my mouth with his again. He took his time, as if he were savoring the feel and taste of me, and then he caught my bottom lip with his, nibbling it gently.
I couldn’t help my giggle as he drew back, only to trace a path of whisper-soft kisses along my jaw and neck. My laughter died in my throat as he planted another over my pulse, and then moved upward, his teeth gently scraping against my earlobe. I let out an embarrassing gasp. “Maybe I knew I shouldn’t flirt, shouldn’t want you,” he murmured against my neck, “but I’ve wanted to do that since the first night we met. Why else do you think I teased you so?”
Then, as suddenly as he’d lost his restraint, he sighed and straightened, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead before pulling back enough to lay my head against his chest. His chin tucked against my hair, making me feel secure as I listened to the steady beat of his heart. But as I evened my breathing, I realized the arms that clung so tightly to me were shaking.
“Garrick?” I drew away, lifting my head to stare up into his face. Tears gleamed in his eyes.
“I shouldn’t have done that. I fear what they could make me do to you again,” he confessed. “I’ve held myself back, kept those words close to my heart, told myself I could never kiss you—wasn’t worthy to even think of you—because I can’t bear to see you suffer. And if I’m the cause?”
“You won’t be,” I cut in sharply. “I promise it.” I settled a hand against his cheek, relishing the roughness of his stubble against my skin. “We’re going to free you from them.”
Movement over Garrick’s shoulder caught my eye, and I paused. Was it the signal at last?
But instead, a pair of blood-red eyes peered at me as Preston leaned against the pillar, arms crossed. “How touching,” he mocked. “Free the dog from the blood oath he willingly made? You truly think highly of yourself, don’t you?”