The Ice Queen (Dark Queens Book 3) (13 page)

Luminesa would need to be more vigilant in watching the children, along with keeping guard against the ice demons...not to mention the confusing riots of emotion she felt whenever Alador was near.

Baatha cried.

And in his cry she heard his words.

It wasn’t the Goblin or the murder you ran from, but the centaur male. Why?

The wind howled with her words, echoing through the dead forest of skeletal trees.

“I don’t know,” she said, “I don’t know...”

Alador

H
e’d looked for her throughout the rest of the day, but she’d vanished as surely as the Under Goblin had.

And though the castle was still warmed by magical white flames that refracted with every color of the rainbow, and there was a bounty of foods set out for he and the children whenever one of them even so much as stepped foot in the dining hall...the castle felt strangely empty without her in it.

He suspected she might be guarding the castle, ensuring no harm befell them. But he also suspected very strongly that she’d run away from him this morning.

Because of that touch.

That touch that’d rocked him to his very core.

He sighed. The only thing he’d been able to do after that was to keep a close eye on the children and make sure nothing happened to them, or against anyone else.

But they’d been happy...or rather as happy as could be expected under these conditions. Even Kai had come out of his shell a little and was laughing with Gerda as they’d eaten their lunch of soup and sandwiches.

Alador had taken the children to go exploring the castle proper once done. Eventually stumbling into a room that had been created with the express purpose of being a child’s paradise.

There was an endless array of plush toys, dazzling costumes for play, and stacks of children’s books.

The children had run into the room with delight, and he’d sat in a corner, taking turns glancing out the ice-paned window as he looked for her.

The children had settled down finally, playing quietly with each other, giggling over an icy checkerboard as Gerda bested Kai in a second round.

They’d had their fill of candies and sweets, it seemed whenever the children even mentioned it a silver tray of Turkish delights would appear to them, only to be gobbled down in the very next instant.

She had done this.

Provided above and beyond what she’d needed to, and asking for no words of praise in return.

She truly sought nothing from them.

And it bothered Alador more and more.

Turning his left palm over he stared at the marking for at least the tenth time, tracing the spidery lines of a snowflake that’d appeared on it the second he’d touched her shoulder.

He’d felt the bite of frost rage through him, but rather than make him want to scream, make him want to turn and run and hide, he’d craved more.

He’d not suffered from the burn, but instead had been consumed by it in a different way entirely.

Even now, remembering the way her power had rippled through him, had roared through his veins like a lion seeking whom it could devour, he shuddered.

Clenching his fingers tight as the tiny snowflake in his palm burned bright.

But on the heel of that powerful emotion came a thought...what did this marking mean exactly? Had she bespelled him, or—as he was more inclined to believe—had he been marked because his soul recognized its mate?

The thought so startled him that he shook his head. It wasn’t possible. Centaurs didn’t mate. Not in the traditional sense.

Except they did.

Though the herd often denied it, saying it was unnatural to be loyal just to one, there were rare and few cases of it. Chester and Kym, and even a few others in history.

There was even a mating ritual that was often taught to them as children, though they all laughed because surely it was nothing more than fables and fairy tales...every centaur knew what to do if by some bizarre stroke of fortune they were blessed to find one.

The door opened then—cutting him off from his thoughts—and a maiden with short blue hair that stood up shockingly like frosted icicles on her head, peeked her head in. “Time for bed, children,” she said softly.

“Have the castle grounds been checked over?” he asked her.

She nodded. “Yes. Astrid and the mistress have built snow monsters who are even now guarding the exits of the castle. And there are dark magic yeti’s in the castle proper.

He lifted a brow.

But she’d routed his question before he could even ask it.

“The queen built them to detect the dark magick traces of the Under Goblin. If he returns, we will know it.”

Gerda and Kai turned to look up at Alador.

“We’re frightened,” Gerda said softly, all smiles they’d worn earlier now gone as she grabbed hold of Kai’s little hand. “Can we sleep in your room, Alador?”

He shook his head. “No. I’ve nothing but piles of straw, it is not nearly suitable for children.”

“Do not worry, children,” the maiden said as she stepped inside, and unlike before when the maidens had been dressed as scullery maids, this one was dressed in thick icy plates of battle armor, “you shall each have a guard standing just outside your doors. The Goblin will not return this night, he’d be foolish to try.”

Alador wasn’t so sure, but had no wish to frighten the children either.

Holding out her hands to them, she waited for the children to slip their hands into hers.

“I will check on you before I go to bed.” Alador promised. Then looking at the ice maiden he said, “Perhaps the guards should—”

As though knowing his thoughts, she smiled serenely. “We know what’s happened this morning, and we’re now prepared. An attack such as that will not occur again.”

Alador raked his gaze down her form, studying the body armor again. Not that he didn’t believe that they’d try to be prepared, but even he couldn’t fathom how a slight child like Gerda had been able to take on Antigua in the first place.

“Do not worry, male,” the ice maiden repeated, “the yeti’s can taste dark magick, if the Goblin returns, we will know it.”

He supposed there was nothing more to be said after that. It didn’t sit right with Alador to leave the children alone, and yet, he knew he’d have no choice but to stay with Luminesa in case the ice demons returned.

Gerda nodded slowly. But Kai pursed his lips tightly. The boy was upset.

Understandable really. No doubt he was worried about his family. Worried about how to leave this place. He might be younger than Gerda, but Kai seemed to better understand the kind of danger they now found themselves in.

Tomorrow Alador would make an extra effort to comfort the boy as best he could. But right now he needed to find the queen.

They needed to talk about what’d happened this morning.

Once the children were out the door, he stood, and went in search of her.

~*~

Luminesa

L
uminesa heard his footsteps long before he’d entered the glass room.

She did not move from her spot, didn’t turn her face to look at him, she continued to gaze up at the nighttime sky ablaze with winter’s kiss.

But she did light the hearth behind them, filling it with the heat of frost fire, a lambent flame that would not melt ice but warmed the room up.

He inhaled deeply, pausing only once he’d gotten to her side.

“The moon is so full tonight,” she said softly, taking a quick second to glance at him.

He nodded.

The moon looked triple the size it normally should, a giant, glowing orb filling up the navy sky with its soft radiance and turning the snowstorm into a crystalline shower of light.

“Thank you for going out of your way to keep us warm, I know it cannot be comfortable for you,” he said.

Hugging her arms to her breasts, she turned, looking up at the tall, exotic male and wondering all over again why it was that she felt so relaxed in his presence.

“You’re welcome. But it is not uncomfortable for me.”

Those green eyes she’d dreamt about last night studied her so intently that for just a moment, Luminesa forgot how to breathe.

And the world around them ceased to exist.

She forgot about the snow outside, the howling winds, the children sleeping warmly in their fur-lined beds, the Goblin’s riddle, or even the fact that if she couldn’t figure out his game in a month’s time she’d cease to be who she was.

What she was.

Because right now, the only thing she could focus on was Alador. And how his words from last night continued to haunt her.

“I do feel,” she finally admitted into the heavy silence that hugged them.

The muscle in his jaw tensed.

“Keenly,” she whispered.

“I am sorry. I should not have—”

But she didn’t let him finish, instead she shook her head. If she was going to be honest with him, if she was going to open her heart to him then she couldn’t look him in the eye as she did it.

And as much as it hurt to turn away from him, she did. She faced that night sky and whispered her truths out into the world for the first time since the dawn of her rebirth.

“I ran away from you this morning because what you did, when you touched me, it broke something in me.”

“I am—”

“No.” She shook her head. If he said anything else she’d lose what little dregs of bravery she now possessed and would never be able to get this out. “Please just listen.”

From the corner of her eye she saw him nod.

Turning her palm over, she stared at the horse hoof marking that’d appeared not to long after he’d touched her. She wasn’t sure what it meant, all she knew was anytime she touched her finger to it, a shot of warmth pulsed up her arm like a welcoming wave and that somehow, someway...Alador was becoming so much more to her than just another centaur male.

Taking a deep breath, she plunged feet first into her tale.

“Long ago,” she began, “I was not the woman you see today.”

The only sound she heard was his steady, but heavy breathing. Closing her eyes, she tried to imagine that it was just her here; that no one else was around, that no one could hurt her again. That she was safe and protected. It was easier to speak that way, when she was separated from the rest of humanity, when there was no one around to make her feel...alone.

Thinking back on that day a hundred years ago, Luminesa finally let herself give it life again.

“I thought I’d known him. Or known him well enough to feel safe in going to his tent.”

She tracked the flurry of snowflakes that fell right in front of her, swirling and twirling in the blustery wind. Her eyes were glued to the night, awaiting the first flicker of ruby red demon eyes.

Her heart thundered in her chest.

Luminesa recalled that night with the type of startling clarity that usually only came from a fresh memory. But no matter how many years passed, how many lifetimes she walked through, or how many silent admonishments she’d given herself that Josiah of Scarta no longer lived, she could also never forget.

His callused palm landed on her shoulder, and just like before his touch burned her to her core. A fire that she didn’t want to leap back from, but rather, jump headlong into.

He was giving her a chance to change course, a chance not to say the words hovering on the tip of her tongue. Words that she’d swallowed for so long that giving them life now felt a lot like squaring off against a demon crawling straight from the deepest, darkest pits of perpetual fire.

The first tear rolled down her cheek, crystalizing the moment it fell off her chin.

“His name was Josiah of Scarta. A man I’d known all my life. We’d been raised together as children in the same, little village. I thought I knew him.”

Funny how time could pass, a hundred years, but always some memories—the ones that cut through a person’s soul—could remain just as startlingly clear today as they had the day it’d happened.

She’d been a bar keep at a local tavern. An unassuming, mild mannered woman with brown hair and brown eyes...nothing truly extraordinary about her. She’d liked people and generally thought the best of them.

“The genie woman—Nixie—she walked into my tavern. She’d come on an errand from her newest master. Josiah said he wanted to see me again.”

Looking out the window, she didn’t see the snow dusted plains of night, but the depth of sorrow in Nixie’s eyes as she’d asked the favor of Luminesa. Compelled by her own bonds of servitude to perform. Luminesa had known immediately that Nixie hadn’t wanted to do what she’d been forced to do.

It’d been that hesitation that’d compelled Luminesa to go, not for Josiah, but for the slave woman. To save her the heartache of forcing Luminesa to go if she chose not to do it willingly.

“So you went, to spare the genie the pain of using her magic to compel your willingness.”

Alador’s deep voice, so wise, so full of insight, caused her to tremble. Why did she like him so much? She hardly knew him, and yet, he was the first male since the night with Josiah that she genuinely liked.

He took her hand.

And she let him.

Even as every molecule inside of her froze. Because once again she was bombarded by emotions. The warm feeling rippling through her stomach in waves from the rough feel of his ridged palms and fingers.

The smell of him invaded her brain, a mix of moss, earth, pine, and man.

Her fingers were so pale compared to his bronzed ones. Slender, and small, to his large, strong ones.

She couldn’t help but look at him, and was drowned by that malachite gaze that pierced right through her soul.

Yesterday morning when they’d met he’d been what everyone else had ever been to her, distrustful, uneasy, angry even. So what had changed between now and then?

He bent his forelegs and then his back, kneeling on the floor and bringing her down with him.

Again she suffered the thought that she should shake free of him. But his was the first touch that made her feel something other than dead inside, and goddess help her, but she was coming to crave more.

Then his strong forearm banded tight around her waist, and he dragged her flush to his side, so that she was settled upon him in a half sitting, half supine position.