The Glass Queen

by Gena Showalter

  My determination to end her reached new heights.

  “And the bracelets?” I asked gently. “What’s the meaning of their tradition?” Would he tell me this time?

  He brushed his thumb along my spine. “They serve as a constant reminder that we do not serve ourselves, but each other. At birth, every avian is given three bracelets. The red one represents family. Blood of my blood. The yellow represents a commitment of marriage. The dawning of a new life together. The third is white, to be exchanged for another bracelet on the child’s sixteenth birthday, when they choose their own path. We acquire others for significant achievements that aid our people as a whole.”

  I did a quick, mental count of his bracelets, recalling some were thicker than others. “What does the thickest one represent?”

  He pursed his lips, but said, “War. Each time I execute a successful campaign, a new string is added around the metal band.”

  Whoa! “You’ve had a lot of successful campaigns.”

  “Yes,” he said, offering no more. “I might not have lived with the avian, but I had people. There was Roth and Farrah. Vikander, a fae prince, and Reese, a mer who lost his life not too long ago. I fought for them and wear my wars to honor their sacrifices.”

  What a beautiful picture of friendship, loyalty, and love. “Women who visited the Temple often whispered about a fae named Vikander.”

  “That’s the very one,” he said with a sure nod.

  “But I didn’t even tell you what those whispers suggested he did.”

  “It doesn’t matter. They were speaking of Vikander.”

  I chuckled, loving this playful side of him. “So what happens if a bracelet falls off or gets stolen?”

  “They never fall, and they can’t be stolen. They are magically bound to us, growing as we grow, and they must be given freely to be removed.”

  As we descended, I figured I had time for one more question. “What is amour?”

  He got real tense, real fast, and I feared I’d overstepped. “It is a special dust the avian produce when they are...very happy.”

  Was that why the amour had been so important to Leonora? She’d wanted to be the one to make Craven happy? “Why keep the information a secret? Actually, how has this information been kept secret for so long?”

  “The avian have always given false histories to the masses, and kept the truth for ourselves. This prevents our enemies from knowing how to fight us properly.”

  Tricky.

  We neared treetops that glowed bright blue, a haze of mist sparkling like diamond dust, but Saxon didn’t slow and... I squealed with delight as he twisted and twirled at top speed, somehow avoiding a single strike of a tree branch. Only soft leaves caressed my skin.

  He landed on a boulder next to a majestic waterfall. Cool mist dampened me as the dragons skidded over the water. I twittered happily.

  “Such skill,” I called to my babies.

  Saxon motioned to a crystal-clear pond, where water lilies floated over the surface, perfuming the air. “This is your surprise. We’re going to swim.”

  I fluttered a hand over my suddenly racing heart. “Swim?” I’d always wanted to swim. “I’d love to, very much so, but I don’t know how.”

  “Then it will be my pleasure to teach you.” He flipped his gaze up, where the dragons circled us. “Go play, but stay close and out of others’ view. Squawk if you need us. And no peeking.”

  They gave him a look, like, Sure, Dad, then shot off, disappearing in the trees. The next thing I knew, Saxon had tightened his grip on me and jumped into the pool.

  I laughed as cold but refreshing water enveloped me in a single gulp, clothes and all. Had I been alone, I would have been terrified, but with Saxon holding me close, I was exhilarated.

  He kicked his powerful legs, propelling us up, up. I was still laughing as we breached the surface. Droplets slipped into my mouth, and the most divine sensation came over me.

  My insides tingled as if I’d swallowed a magical peppermint tree. “What’s happening?”

  “The water is bespelled by the forest’s guardian. Anyone who swims is cleaned, inside and out.”

  Amazing. “Queen Everly did this?”

  “You know of Everly?”

  “Yes, Sax.” I rolled my eyes. “Even I have heard of the new Empress of the Forest.”

  His features softened when I used the endearment. “That isn’t what I meant.”

  “Well, then—oh! Help me.” The weight of my dress was pulling me down, down. “My clothes,” I screeched, kicking my legs frantically. I continued to sink, even with Saxon’s arms banded around me.

  He held me up without sinking an inch himself, and I took comfort in that. “No need to worry, Asha. The clothes are coming off. With your permission, of course.”

  Wait. “We’ll be naked?”

  “If you would rather remain dressed—”

  “No, no.” Excitement and anticipation doused that sudden flare of nervousness as he floated me closer to the shore.

  Except for my bath-time experience, I’d never been naked with a boy. But... I wanted to get naked with this one and no other.

  “For our safety, we probably should disrobe,” I said as casually as I could manage. “I mean, if you think we should.”

  “I do.” He lowered his chin, looking every inch a predator. The water had slicked back his hair. Strain had tightened his features, and his pupils had dilated. “For our safety.”

  He sounded like a predator, too, all growly and hot.

  For some reason, hearing that tone was like receiving a deluge of pure confidence. A flirting know-how I’d never before displayed and hadn’t learned from Leonora. “But, Sax,” I purred. “Removing our clothes means you’re the one getting the reward.”

  He jerked at my tone. “If getting you out of a dress is my reward for cleaning a stable,” he said, his eyelids sinking over his eyes, “I’ll be cleaning a stable every day for the rest of my life.”

  He’d just said...he’d just claimed... I think he’d just melted my brain right along with my heart. He wanted to spend every day of his life with me?

  He reached a spot where he could stand, then helped me out of the soaking gown with expert precision. He got me out of my shoes, too, tossing everything to the shore...and suddenly I was standing in water that only reached my navel while wearing nothing but a corselet and a pair of panties. Cool air raised goose bumps on my damp skin, but Saxon’s gaze kept me warm.

  He traced a finger along the chain that held the ring, his blistering expression unchanging. “You never remove this.” A statement, not a question. “Your mother gave it to you, you said.”

  “That’s right,” I replied, cautious. Every time before, a discussion on this topic had soured his mood.

  “What did she tell you about it?” He tugged his shirt over his head, baring his chest, then tossed his boots ashore.

  His nipple piercing glinted in the sunlight, mesmerizing me.

  He removed his pants, leaving only his undergar—no, he removed that, too.

  I wouldn’t look down at the water. I wouldn’t—

  The clear water hid nothing.

  I’d looked down, and oh, sweet goodness. I jerked my gaze heavenward, my heart thudding. I’d just glimpsed a male member for the first time, and I didn’t know what to think. I probably needed another look—two looks, verging closer to five—ten before I made a decision about it.

  In the interest of my education, I performed a second once-over. When I licked my lips, Saxon belted out a laugh. A rusty but charming sound that made me want to laugh, too.

  Before I could study the new object of my fascination, my avian fell back into the water, taking me with him to swim us to a deeper part of the pond.

  “The ring,” he prompted a second time.

  Oh, yes. “My
mother didn’t tell me much about it, to be honest. Only that it belonged with me.”

  “One day, if you’d like to know more about it, I’ll tell you. Now lie back.” He eased me into a supine position, keeping one hand underneath me to hold me up.

  Long locks of my hair formed dark ribbons in the water around me. “You won’t let me go?”

  “I swear it. I won’t let you go.”

  As I continued to float, he urged me to try other positions. No matter which way I angled, he remained true to his word, holding me up, unwaveringly patient as I screeched questions.

  Like now. “How long does it take to drown?” I demanded as I flailed, water splashing. I had turned stomach down, and if my face went under one more time...

  “You’re not drowning. I’ve got you.”

  I sank a little, swallowing a mouthful of water, and yelped. “Why are you letting me drown, Saxon?”

  He snickered. “If I allow you to drown, Asha, you can punish me at your leisure.”

  “How comforting.” Eventually, though, I got the hang of everything. “All right. I’m ready. You can release me into the wild. But stay close.”

  For the first time since we’d entered the water, he eased his hands away. I glided my arms and legs this way and that, just as he’d taught me and...yes! I didn’t sink. “I’m doing it, Sax! I’m doing it.”

  He beamed at me. “I’ve never been more proud of you, Asha.”

  I...didn’t know what to say or how to act. I’d never made anyone proud before.

  I dipped underwater—on purpose—to cool my overheated cheeks. As I came back up, Saxon cupped my nape and eased me closer to his body. In this location, my feet didn’t reach the bottom, so I had to tread before him. But that was okay, because he’d taught me how to do that, too.

  “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” He grazed my cheek, collecting water droplets, his heated gaze searching mine.

  “Yes,” I replied, very serious. Because I’d always been beautiful to myself. How could I not be? I had come from my mother. “But thank you for the compliment. I will cherish it every time I catch sight of my reflection.”

  He grinned at me, sharing his amusement.

  “You,” I said, unable to look away, “are beautiful, too.”

  “Thank you. I will cherish the compliment every time I catch sight...of you.”

  Argh! He was melting my brain again.

  With my next inhalation, I picked up a new scent. Mmm. Sweet...rich...intoxicating. What was that? I breathed deep, deeper, hungry for more. My head clouded, even as different parts of me seemed to awaken from a deep sleep. The pulse at the base of my neck throbbed. My every cell buzzed. Flutters teased my belly, while warmth pooled between my legs.

  I thought...maybe... “The scent...it’s coming from you.”

  He parted his lips wordlessly, his expression somehow haunted and euphoric at once. “I think it’s...the amour.”

  He’d produced the special dust? I laughed, delighted. “I made you happy.”

  He met my gaze again, his expression fiercer than I’d ever seen it. My laughter died. His breaths turned raspy. So did mine. We breathed for the other, the space between our mouths diminishing as we both edged closer.

  Heart racing, I slid my hands up his chest. A chest he bowed out, seeking firmer contact.

  “My wings.” He settled his hands on my waist and squeezed. Voice hoarse, he said, “Touch them. Please.” The last word emerged as little more than a snarl.

  Yes. I would touch. I had to touch. My cheeks flushed as I reached past his shoulders with trembling hands, then fitted my palms over the hard outer ridge of his wings.

  A moan left him, and he closed his eyes.

  Suddenly I understood why my mother had told me not to ever, ever ask to touch an avian’s wings. It was a deeply personal act between two people who trusted each other...desired each other—an act we both desperately craved.

  I caressed those exquisite azure feathers, luxuriating in the softness, sharply aware of Saxon’s every reaction...and the reactions taking place inside of me. The increase of heat, turning my bones to molten gold. The magnified aches.

  “Sax,” I breathed.

  His eyelids popped open, amber irises aflame. “I want to kiss you. I need to kiss you.”

  Yes! “Kiss me,” I commanded him.

  And he obeyed.

  He pressed his mouth over mine and slid his tongue inside for a quick taste, the connection electrifying me. I melted into him, somehow remaining upright, letting my tongue chase his. More.

  With a groan, he gave me what I wanted. At first, I didn’t know how to return the force of his passion, but he didn’t seem to mind and it wasn’t long before I got lost in the throes, my body taking over. He kissed me faster and harder, and I instinctively followed his lead. Again, my aches magnified. The pulse at the base of my neck didn’t just throb; it galloped. My cells didn’t just buzz; they burned. The flutters didn’t just dance in my belly; they spread all over.

  He tasted like he smelled, all the delicious honeyed whiskey teasing my tongue. A special scent and taste just for me. Because I’d made him happy. A fact I would forever cherish.

  When a shadow fell over us, we broke apart, both of us panting. I glanced up to see the dragons swooping past, and I would swear they both blushed before they disappeared in the trees.

  I moaned, my cheeks scorched. “They saw us. On the plus side, I think we’ll get a little privacy now.”

  “That’s good.” His voice dipped. “There are things I want to do to you.”

  I shivered as Saxon carried me out of the water and laid me on a moss-covered rock. Cool air nipped at my overheated skin, steam seeming to rise from me.

  “Saxon,” I whispered, the interruption already forgotten. I wanted more of what he’d given me in the water. Needed it.

  He loomed over me, gloriously naked, water dripping from his hair. Flaring his wings, flinging more droplets in every direction, he blocked out the rest of the world. Just then, we were the only two people in existence.

  “Touch me,” he rasped. “Touch my wings again.”

  I stroked the feathers, and he returned his mouth to mine with a groan. This kiss was frantic, edged with desperation.

  When he settled his heavy weight over me, I thrilled. He covered me like a shield—the most beautiful shield in all the world. He touched me as I touched him. He kneaded me, and he played with me, making me moan, mewl, and beg. But what was I supposed to do for him? How did I make him feel this good?

  A bomb of fury hit me with such force, I gasped. Leonora didn’t like that I was enjoying my time with the avian. “Her” time.

  Saxon lifted his head, his brows knitted, his lips kiss-swollen. “Ashleigh?”

  The heat drained out of me, leaving me ice-cold. He might be Cinder’s fairy-tale prince, but our circumstances hadn’t magically changed. I was still possessed by his most hated enemy. I could become her at any moment. And what would happen if—when—Saxon won the tournament? And he would win, no matter what he had to do. He and his people prized strength; he wouldn’t return to his kingdom in defeat. So. He would become Dior’s betrothed. Dior’s.

  Not mine.

  I was kissing a man who would soon marry someone else.

  I wheezed my next breath. While my stepsister believed we could let the winner choose his bride, I knew better. My father rendered the ultimate verdict, and he would select Dior. And maybe he should. Saxon wouldn’t have to deal with Leonora anymore. He could be free. He could have his happily-ever-after.

  And me? I wouldn’t get to enjoy his sweet taste ever again. I wouldn’t get to make him happy and smell his intoxicating scent. I wouldn’t get to feel his soft skin pressed against mine, or enjoy the softness of his feathers. Dior would.

  No, I would spend my days cr
afting and selling weapons and my nights corralling Leonora. Her fury... One day, she would decide to murder Saxon for a third time, punishing him before they started over. She would murder his wife, too.

  My newfound merriment crumbled around me. I had to kill the phantom. I had to kill her soon. Until I did, everyone I loved, liked, or encountered would be in danger. I wouldn’t be able to remain at the palace—that option had just gotten swept off the table. I certainly wouldn’t want to travel to the Avian Mountains with Saxon and his new bride. I’d have to move far, far away from them.

  So where would I go? Unmarried mortal girls weren’t allowed to buy homes of their own. I couldn’t even rent a room at an inn. My dragons wouldn’t fare well in crowds.

  Maybe the three of us could move into the stable permanently?

  The evil sorceress—Everly—might kick us out, but she’d have to do it face-to-face, giving me the chance to speak with her about Leonora. Could phantoms be syphoned to death, as magic could be?

  Was that my only option? Begging a sorceress to remove a phantom?

  Would it even harm Leonora? Would she regenerate, as power did? Or would she just jump into someone else, Saxon and Dior still in danger?

  “Ashleigh?” Saxon prompted, sounding concerned.

  “I—I’m sorry.” I turned my head away and blinked back a sudden well of tears. “We need to stop.”

  At first, he didn’t speak. He didn’t move, either. Heaving breaths, he peered down at me. “Did I frighten you?”

  His go-to question lately. “No,” I assured him. I didn’t want him thinking he’d done anything wrong. “Nothing like that. I liked what we were doing.” So much.

  “Did I move too quickly, pressing for more than you wish to give?”

  I shook my head. Don’t you dare cry. “No, not that, either.”

  “Do you fear what comes after a kiss?” He paused, thoughtful. “Do you know what comes after a kiss?”

  I licked my lips and offered a slow nod, then gathered my courage to face him again. “We would do what the animals do. A part of you goes...inside me. That, um, part I spotted earlier. The really big one.” How was I discussing such an intimate topic even halfway matter-of-factly? “Is that, um, correct?”