Chapter 37
ANNA
Anna stared at David’s closed bedroom door, knock unanswered, wondering what she’d done wrong.
He’d been fine until this morning, and the change was abrupt, hardly detectable beneath the ice, but clearly something had happened.
When she’d woken in his bed, he’d been distant.
She chalked that up to a poor night’s sleep—he’d tossed about all night—but now she wondered if it was something more.
She tried one last time, her fingernail tapping lightly against the wood. “David? It’s me. Are you okay?”
She waited a moment, but no answer came. Maybe he wasn’t in there.
Giving up, she made her way back to the living areas. She hadn’t slept in her own bed in weeks. Maddy would be thrilled. Anna turned toward the door but paused in the doorway of David’s favorite sitting room.
Sean sat alone in the middle of the sofa, nursing a glass of wine. Behind him, the windows showed a gentle snow had begun to fall, Luster flashing in each flake, making the sky a canvas of silver glitter.
His troubled gaze lifted to her, and flutters of agitation and confusion sprinkled like confetti over his emotions.
Heat scalded her cheeks as she remembered the way his touch had pierced through her pixie network with spikes of unadulterated pleasure, unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
She’d felt almost drugged by it, drawn in by an overwhelming sense of rightness, of home.
Ignoring it, Anna pointed down the hall. “Do you happen to know what’s wrong with him?”
After a sip of wine, Sean shook his head. “Haven’t seen much of him today.”
She glanced back toward David’s bedroom. “It’s strange, right?”
He shrugged and set his glass down. His body lengthened in a lazy stretch before he stood. “Did something happen?”
Anna cast her thoughts back to the previous night, and fire spread through her veins.
Open your legs.
Look at me.
You’re a masterpiece.
You’re exactly where you belong.
It had been a good night, hadn’t it? She’d practically sparkled with happiness as she’d fallen asleep, but this morning, everything changed.
“I don’t think so,” she said to Sean.
Chuckling, her friend made his way closer. “Maybe he’s in his feelings and doesn’t want anyone to see.”
She laughed, letting the moment ease the knot of tension, but then their gazes snagged, his smile faded, and she thought of the sparks of pleasure that had ignited in his touch. She couldn’t fathom what it meant. All pixies felt different to her. None of them felt like that.
She opened her mouth to say something, say anything, but a sharp pain drove through her forehead, and her vision fractured into a hundred pieces.
The shards fell away to reveal nothing but cloudy gray, roiling with pain.
Far away, she sensed her knees giving out, felt something catch her before she hit the floor, electricity zinging through points of contact like lightning, but it was distant, dreamlike.
Her reality became the gray cloud in her mind. It shifted and transformed into an upright being, faceless, pulsing with her heartbeat.
“Hello, Princess,” the being said in a voice that was neither masculine nor feminine, but some amalgamation of both.
Too scared to speak, to even breathe, Anna did nothing, but the pain was too much. Across an ocean of nothingness, her body struggled and a familiar voice screamed for help, though she couldn’t make out the words.
“I have been watching you,” the being said.
Anna turned away. The gray shadow unfurled a dark tendril and pulled her attention back. In the distance, someone shouted her name.
“Do not be afraid, my love,” it said. “I shall harm you not.”
Lies. Her head was splitting in two. Trapped, Anna submitted to the creature and let her subconscious acquiesce, trying to focus past the pain in her head.
“There’s my darling,” it crooned. “You have a bigger role in this story than you know, Princess.”
No, Anna thought, begging to be free of the agony.
“You are mine,” it said. “You belong to me. When the time is right, you will come to me. You will reign at my side.”
Yes. The thought came unbidden. She’d say anything if it meant the voice would leave.
“Very good, child.” The voice sounded pleased now. Triumphant. “Caden Sidera will die before all is done. The pieces are already in motion. Nothing he does on his blessed path will stop what draws nigh. I will end him and prove Kassandra wrong. This time, I will triumph.”
Her chest stalled as terror froze her breaths.
“He holds you, my love. You are wise to keep him close. When you wake, tell him this: The plague is not coming. I am already here.”
Anna blinked, and the gray was gone. She stared at the ceiling of the Sovereign Suite, cradled in Sean Archer’s lap where he sat on the floor. Throbbing pain pulsed behind her eyes.
“Anna!” he said, shaking her. “Wake up!”
She rubbed her face. “What— I’m—”
“What’s this, then?” came a sleep-hazed voice, and Anna twisted to watch Isobel be dragged into the room by a harried Autumn.
Sean let out a relieved sigh at the sight of them. “Something happened to her. She was…seizing or something. Will—Will you kiss her?”
Anna jolted, trying to push herself out of his arms. Rays of electric pleasure lanced from every place his skin touched hers, then connected to an entire network of terrified concern.
Sean’s network.
She ceased struggling. He didn’t seem to notice, too focused on Isobel’s progress across the room. Bel rubbed her eyes and yawned while Sean’s emotions brimmed with anxiety.
David entered the room, gold hair ruffled. He froze at Anna and Sean on the floor, head cocked. His gaze slid to Autumn, and he managed to ask a question with a simple raise of his eyebrow.
While Autumn explained, Isobel knelt before Anna. “What happened?”
Anna spluttered out what she’d seen, but the headache bloomed, sending pain down her neck, and she fought the urge to curl into Sean’s embrace and cry.
She wanted David. Wanted these to be his arms. But he neither spoke nor approached, and the emotional aura from his area of the room was nothing but ice, even as she told them what the being had said to her.
“Isobel,” Sean said when Anna’s words broke on a wince. “Please?”
Shaking herself, Isobel nodded, though a deep crease had formed between her eyebrows. “Right, sorry. Of course.” She bent and set soft lips against Anna’s, which only made everything worse.
The throb didn’t abate. Instead, a new pain strung beside it, stemming from her kiss—because there was nothing in her body that needed healing. It was all in her head, like someone had sliced through her mind and left it bleeding.
When Isobel finally backed away, she shook her head. “There’s nothing wrong with her.” She looked at Autumn. “What could it mean?”
A tear leaked from Anna’s eye.
Sean’s brow creased. “There has to be. She was seeing things and convulsing in my arms.” A bright shard of horror lanced out from the place David stood, still silent, then disappeared behind ice.
Sean’s gaze fell to Anna, and he pulled her close to his chest. “What role are you supposed to play? What pieces are in motion? What does that even mean, I am already here?”
Giving up on trying to be strong, Anna turned into him, letting his shoulder block the lights that felt like daggers in her eyes. He smelled of woodsmoke and fresh snow, a heady combination conjuring images of warm blankets and cozy fires.
Sleep would be so nice…
“Maybe the plague isn’t the treasonous beliefs like they’ve said,” Anna whispered. “Maybe it’s the person spreading them.”
The room went deadly still.
“But who is it?” Isobel said in a small voice.
No one answered.
As Isobel backed away, Autumn stepped forward. “Can you stand, Anna? We probably need to get you somewhere to lie down.”
She tried to push herself up, but her weak muscles, the strange sparks from Sean’s skin, and the pain stopped her.
“No, don’t,” Sean murmured. He stood with her still in his arms, like she weighed nothing at all. A quick glance at David told her she’d get no comfort from him. He’d retreated from them all, caged in ice, hiding everything.
Still being weird.
She shut her eyes, determined not to worry about it. “My head hurts,” she said as Sean carried her down the hall opposite David’s. “Wait, where are you taking me?”
“To Isobel’s bed.”
Eyes still closed, Anna tried to protest. “She doesn’t have to give up her bed. I can go to my own—”
“She can sleep in my bed,” Sean said.
Oh. Duh.
“I’d feel better if you were close,” he continued without looking at her. “That was terrifying.”
He placed her on something soft, smelling of roses, and Anna blinked her eyes open. The room was lovely, with large windows that peered out on fat fluffs of snow, falling from the sky.
“We’ll check on you in a bit, okay?” he said.
Autumn dashed in after him, holding a nightdress. “You don’t have to sleep in those leathers. Here, take this.”
Anna stared at the fabric, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to undress herself.
“I’ll help you,” Autumn said, and Sean stepped out.
Once she was alone, wrapped in cotton and Isobel’s thick blankets, Anna’s eyes fluttered closed. Outside the door, male voices rumbled her way, sharp and aggressive, but she couldn’t make out any specifics.
Sleep came soon afterward. Fitful. Shallow. She dreamed that David stood at her bedside, gaze flickering over her, cataloguing every flaw, but when she woke the next morning, she was alone.
Anna’s head ached and her ears rang. The gray vision replayed against her eyelids.
The plague is not coming. I am already here.
What did it mean? And why had it chosen her as a herald? Would it return?
Most importantly, who was she? Now more than ever, she needed to understand her origins.
You have a bigger role in this story than you know.
Princess.
What could it mean? Would she ever find out?
Autumn was the first to check on her, sometime after sunrise. Anna attempted to rise from the bed, but a wave of dizziness toppled her right back onto the sheets.