Storm Princess Saga- the Complete Series

by Everly Frost

  Hooking his upper leg over mine, he draws my hips up against his before pressing us chest to chest and gently fitting my head into the crook of his neck. His big arms close tight across my back, covering as much skin as he can.

  I’m icy but he doesn’t wince once.

  He says, “Focus on breathing.”

  It’s difficult and not only because of the cold. I haven’t been this up close and personal with any male other than Baelen. For the next hour, my breath frosts against his skin, tiny crystals form before my eyes, and then… they melt. Like tear drops sliding against his chest, my breath freezes and warms, freezes and warms, over and over, one breath at a time, melting and evaporating. His skin changes color every time my breath touches it and where my body presses against his, turning icy pale, returning to normal, then icy pale again, minute after minute, second after endless second until… finally…

  I sense his breathing deepen. Relax. He didn’t show any deliberate signs of being affected by the cold, but now I realize how furious his breathing had been as the freeze seeped from me into him. He was fighting the cold for both of us.

  I close my eyes, greedily drawing on his warmth. Everything around us has turned completely silent. I’m not sure if that’s because the other gargoyles are sleeping or maybe listening to make sure I’m okay. Or maybe the seal formed by Cassian’s wings blocks out all sound.

  I find my voice for the first time in an hour. My vocal chords are stiff but I manage to speak. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

  He stiffens. There’s a long silence before he responds. “You’re apologizing for hurting me.”

  “I know it hurt.”

  “It did hurt.” In the same breath, he says, “You are very confusing.”

  “I guess I’m very confused right now. I don’t know why this is happening. I don’t deliberately do this every night. I didn’t even know about it.”

  “It’s only when the moon shines.” His arms slide up and down against my back as he shrugs. “It’s hard to miss the connection.”

  “But… why?”

  He doesn’t answer.

  I tilt my head back a little. Funny thing, there used to be a permanent sneer on Cassian’s face, but I haven’t seen it for a while. When did that change? Over the last four weeks, I’ve heard the stories of almost all of the gargoyles in this place, stories about their families, friends, loved ones, children. I haven’t heard his.

  I say, “Tell me about the Hideaway Clan.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “There’s always something to tell.”

  He says, “Not this time.”

  “Howl threatened you, but that’s not the reason you’re helping me. There’s more to it than that.”

  His breath catches and he freezes up again, but he can’t exactly run away. Not if he wants to keep me alive.

  My turn to shrug. “Or you could tell me about your clan.”

  He’s silent. I don’t think I’m going to get an answer to either question. I return my head to his neck to show him that I won’t ask again. Whatever part of me was producing the cold has receded, but it’s still there, deep somewhere. It will come back. I’m not safe until the sun rises again. I don’t want to push him away given that he’s my lifeline right now.

  I’m not exactly sure what makes him change his mind about speaking, but he says, “Hideaway had the strongest wings. Even stronger than the King or Queen. They called him Hideaway because the color of his skin could change and camouflage against any rock and he could, well, hide someone in his wings and protect them. Humans walked straight past him, never knowing he was there. His wings could even block deep magic.”

  That doesn’t sound like the kind of thing that would cause a whole clan to be treated as lower than the others. “Then… why?”

  He knows what I’m asking: why did the Hideaway Clan become servants?

  “Something went wrong. Maybe he hid the wrong person. Maybe he didn’t protect someone he should have. We don’t know why, but the King became very angry with him. To make up for it, Hideaway offered up his clan to serve the King for the rest of our days.”

  “So that is how you came to be a servant in the King’s home.”

  He turns my statement back on me. “Why did you serve in the House of Rath?”

  “All of the minor elven houses serve the major ones. We don’t own homes or land. The House of Mercy has always served the House of Rath.”

  “But you became the Storm Princess. Not them. They wouldn’t have been very happy about that.”

  Is he grinning? I tilt my head back to see, startled at the way Cassian’s smile changes his face. It’s lazy, confident, with a hint of challenge.

  I say, “Well… I guess… I was the first Princess from a minor house.”

  “What about your former master?”

  “Rordan Rath? Baelen’s father avoided me while I was Princess.” Even though he was the only male allowed near me. “I thought it was because I nearly killed his son. But now I think it was for my protection. He tried to keep me separated from elven politics for as long as he could.”

  I shift a little, feeling like I have to defend Baelen’s house. “The House of Rath isn’t like the other major houses. They are warriors. Were warriors, devoted to protecting others. I guess it’s a different kind of servitude. Not cleaning floors but preventing death. Most of them died when the Storm first struck… Rath land sits on the border between our countries. It was hit first and the devastation was… so many elves died…”

  I clear my throat, wondering why I just told him all of that. And whether I should have.

  Of all the things I just said, Cassian hones in on the one thing I don’t want him to. “You almost killed Baelen Rath?”

  “I… uh…” My thoughts whirl. What was I thinking talking about my past? It’s dangerous to tell him any of this. I keep my answer to the minimum. “The storm chose me but he was standing close by at the time and it struck him too. He was badly hurt.”

  “That’s why he shares the storm’s power.”

  Because I poured lightning into Baelen while the Storm poured lightning into me. “Yes.”

  Cassian is quiet for another moment. “There’s something I want to tell you and then you’re going to stop asking questions and I’m going to stop answering them and we’re going to sleep.”

  “Okay?”

  “Growing up in King Roman’s home, I had access to a lot of information. Most of it, I gave myself access to, if you know what I mean.”

  “You mean you sneaked into places you shouldn’t have?”

  “I found out something I wasn’t supposed to know. When the King died, he took the secret with him. Nobody else knows. Not even Howl.”

  If I was worried about telling him things I shouldn’t, then what he’s about to tell me might make us scarily even. I glance around, wide eyed. If the other gargoyles weren’t listening before, they are now.

  “They can’t hear us,” Cassian says, another rare smile gracing his face. It changes him, relaxes his mouth, lights up his eyes in mesmerizing ways. “We’re sealed in here. I have the same wings as Hideaway. I’m the only gargoyle in my generation whose wings block everything—magic, sound. The only reason we’ve had this conversation is because nobody else can hear us.”

  I whisper, “What do you know?”

  His smile remains. “The gargoyle who became the storm, who gave her life to become the destructive force that killed your elven King… she was Supreme Incorruptible. The heir to the throne. She was royalty.”

  The Storm was a Princess? But… how… what…? I can’t even identify which question screams at me first.

  His arms tighten again, one hand rubbing my back between my shoulder blades, easing out the sudden tension in my torso. “Now sleep.”

  True to my promise, I don’t ask any more questions, even though I burn with them. The Storm, my Storm, my Elyria with the broken wing, was royalty.

  Despite the tornado of
questions churning at the back of my mind, the soothing motion of his hand on my back is impossible to ignore. My eyes drift closed. My breathing slows. I fall asleep in the arms of this ferocious gargoyle.

  32. Cassian

  Marbella sleeps, but I can’t.

  Up close, her scent is too strong, too dangerous. Her storm power used to mask it. Then the stench of the mine covered her skin. But now, the deep, familiar scent is unmistakable—a scent she shouldn’t have. I inhaled it when I flew her up to her hammock, but I put it down to a confused memory. Lying with her now in this enclosed space, her naked chest pressed against mine, it’s undeniable.

  There are mysteries about her that I can’t solve and lying awake won’t do me any good. She’s warm now, safe.

  I exhale against her hair, my palm pressed against her back, my leg hooked over hers. My fingers rest against the nape of her neck, curled into her hair. As I shift, her head tilts back, but she doesn’t wake, her breathing deep and trusting. She let me help her when the others tried to protect her from me.

  Contentment.

  I finally have a description for the feeling inside me. Odd, that that’s the way I feel despite my burning need to kiss her, explore her body, and stroke the fire she keeps tightly controlled, to give her a different reason to sigh.

  I wonder what would happen if I woke her and asked her for permission to do more than stroke her back.

  Remember not to be so polite.

  Elaina’s final admonition is a painful challenge. She’s gone. I lost her, but every time I look at Marbella, I see Elaina’s red hair, her determination. But not her love.

  I nearly stroke Marbella’s cheek, almost nuzzle her awake, nearly ask for what I want, but then I remember the look on her face when she spoke about Baelen Rath, the way she looked at Crimson Court when she severed the connection between them. She traveled into the heart of Erador to heal him. Only the truest, most unbreakable love could cause her to do that.

  Her heart is missing. It stays with him and I can’t fill that wound.

  I have no choice but to be polite.

  33. Marbella Mercy

  I wake to Cassian pulling my shirt back over my arms. His wings still seal us in and I’m glad for that because otherwise I’d be putting on quite a show right now. He buttons up the front even though my fingers have thawed and I could do it myself.

  When I’m fully clothed, he says, “The sun is up.”

  The seal breaks and the morning air rushes in. He slips over the hammock’s edge, spreads his wings to stay afloat, and shakes them out, rolling his shoulders and turning his neck side to side. Then he drops out of sight.

  I lean over the edge, watching him go. Just as he reaches the ground, another gargoyle swoops in from the Cavity’s entrance, someone I haven’t seen before. Cassian stiffens as the newcomer speaks. The conversation finishes when Cassian gives the stranger a curt nod, and then the other gargoyle flies away.

  I look up to find my whole team waiting for me to speak. They look like they barely slept.

  “I’m okay,” I say, guilt spreading through me as I wonder how long they stayed awake and on guard during the night. There was no way I could have given them a signal though. I was completely sealed in.

  Llion looks relieved. “I’m very glad to see it, Lady Storm.”

  “What’s going on down there?”

  Far below, Cassian has called a number of guards into a group.

  Llion shakes his head. “I guess we’ll find out. Are you ready?”

  The flight down is too short for my liking. The other team leaders are already there, herded into a group by the guards. The closer I get to the ground, the more agitated Cassian seems to become.

  As soon as we set down, Cassian speaks to everyone. “There will be no mining for three days.” He waits a moment for the news to sink in. “The King has declared a celebration in honor of finding the Lightsworn Heartstone. He will be sending extra food. You may all rest and eat.”

  He spins to me, the stern lines back on his face. Any hint of the protective personality I saw the night before has disappeared. He is General Cassian again. “Except you, Princess.”

  Instinctively, I recoil, bumping into Llion. My friend steadies me, his reassuring hands remaining on my arms. Jasper edges toward me through the group. I haven’t had a chance to speak with him in days.

  Cassian’s delivery of the next news is flat and unemotional. “You have been called to the Palace.” He glares at Jasper as Jasper reaches my side. “Alone.”

  “When?”

  “Now.”

  Instinctively, I catch Jasper’s hand. Howl is calling me back. No doubt to gloat about his new toy. If my face is as expressive as it looked the other day, then there’s no disguising the contempt I feel right now. Despite my lost storm power, I feel stronger than when I left Crimson Court.

  I ask, “Will you be coming with me, General Cassian?”

  “Yes.”

  Of course. He goes where I go. I probably shouldn’t feel this way, but it’s a comfort that he’s coming with me. Especially if I wake up in the night and need help again. Hopefully that won’t happen since it took a heartstone to wake me from my icy sleep the first time. “When you’re ready then.”

  A smile ghosts around his mouth, quickly hidden. He signals the waiting guards and they bring the large crate I arrived in. I squeeze Jasper’s hand before I clamber inside. “Use the time wisely,” I whisper to him and Llion.

  “We will.”

  My team’s concerned faces are my final view before a guard closes the hatch and the crate rises into the air.

  I tumble out of the basket onto the grass right outside Harem Hall. The only advantage to being transported in the basket is that it was dark inside and allowed my eyes to adjust to the brighter sunlight. Steely-eyed guards watch my every move as I straighten my clothes. At least I’m not in a dress this time, although something tells me that’s not going to last.

  Cassian looms over me, grabbing my arm, making me wince. His jaw clenches. If there was a hint of a smile before, it’s long gone. He growls, keeping it low, “Don’t forget where you are.”

  It’s a warning. I paste a suitably terrified expression on my face, although my wince is real. But the fact is… I’m not afraid of Cassian anymore. He had plenty of chances to hurt me and didn’t. I’m not afraid and… I don’t think he wants me to be.

  I stumble across the grass as he pushes me through the line of guards. He isn’t allowed beyond that line, so he shoves me toward the steps where two females I don’t recognize wait to take me inside. I follow them without speaking, passing through the opulent rooms at the front of the building.

  Like last time, they direct me to the bathroom first. After I’ve washed and dressed in a clean robe, they lead me to the room at the back where the females dress.

  I stop short. The room is empty. “Where are the others?”

  One of the females directs me to a chair and the other starts brushing my hair. “Where are Carmen and Gilda?”

  The one brushing my hair places a finger against her lips. Okay, so they can’t talk to me, but now I’m worried about the two females who brought me provisions. I sit surrounded by anxiety while they put my hair up into an intricate design that allows long strands to fall across one shoulder. So far they haven’t presented me with a dress. My gaze darts around the room. I don’t see one anywhere. But they’re clearly getting me ready for something.

  I take a moment to check myself in the mirror and I’m startled by what I see. My skin is pale, translucent from top to bottom, even my hair is a lighter shade of auburn. My eyes are washed-out green, glinting with an edge they didn’t have before. My shoulders and upper arms are defined with visible muscles, but my lips are brighter red, flushing darker when I press them together. Could all of this be a consequence of being underground and working hard for the last month? Or more to do with the way I turn into ice when the moon is out?

  The females finish their w
ork and leave without a word. I remain in my seat, not sure what to expect or do. So much time passes that I eventually slouch forward, leaning on the mirrored bench in front of me.

  A sixth sense warns me and I glance up into the mirror.

  “I’ve missed you, little doll.”

  I glide from the chair, ready to face Howl as he prowls into the room, making it seem small and cramped. He rolls his broad shoulders back, displaying his wings and the now multi-colored veins running through them, some green, some blue. A second heartstone—this one the color of an icy blue pond—rests next to the first. It’s their colors that intertwine through his wings.

  I draw myself up to my full height. Not very tall or intimidating but, hey, I can try. He pulls up short, mid-stride inside the room. His harsh gaze moves from my head to my bare feet.

  “How curious,” he says. “Cassian was right.”

  “About what?”

  “You’ve changed.”

  I circle around him as he approaches so that he remains at the same distance. This seems to amuse him. “I heard you had a difficult night last night.”

  Cassian must have told him everything. I’m guessing that was the deal: watch over me and report back. “It wasn’t the first.”

  “I suspected the heartstone’s awakening might cause you some pain. You may not have your power anymore, but deep magic will always recognize itself.”

  I frown. He seems to think my bad night was purely because of the heartstone. It had started that way, but the rest of it wasn’t. Maybe Cassian didn’t tell him everything after all. Maybe Cassian is smart enough not to tell him everything. Howl interprets my scowl as an unwillingness to admit weakness.

  “Don’t fret, little doll. It hurt me too. Holding a heartstone for the first time is like… well… connecting with lightning. You would know what that feels like.”

  Painful. Terrifying. I hope it hurt him a lot.

  “Why am I here?” I haven’t been able to maintain the distance between us and before I know it, I’m pinned in the corner. I smother a sigh. At least I tried.