The Evil Queen (The Forest of Good and Evil)

by Gena Showalter

  I readied my hands, preparing to syphon. Roth palmed his daggers—my daggers—giving one to me. I’d had no idea he’d kept and carried them.

  I experienced the smallest, most trifling—not even worth mentioning, really—flare of tenderness for him. If Queen Violet hadn’t stepped from the masses, resplendent in a pale pink gown, I would have given in to my impulse to kiss him. At the first sight of her, my insides went haywire: panicked mind, racing heart, shaking limbs.

  “Mother?” Truly gasped out. “What are you doing here? How did you find us?”

  Violet looked from Truly to me, her eyes narrowing. “Three days ago, the oracle and witch snuck into my palace to tell me I needed to be in this location, at this time, on this day, if ever I wanted to save my daughter. Now I find you cavorting with her.”

  Ignore the hurt. At least she hadn’t beat me with wind.

  “She is my sister. My true love.” Truly raised her head as if proud—of me! “I will always cavort with her.”

  The declaration dulled the ache of yet another rejection.

  Fury detonated in the queen’s dark blue eyes. “I am the one who protected you throughout the years. Me! Yet you support her?”

  Roth returned both of the daggers to the sheaths at his waist and wrapped an arm around my waist. An action of support and comfort, one Queen Violet didn’t miss or like—an action I hadn’t expected or known I needed.

  “You are Snow White,” Violet told Truly. “She is the Queen of Evil.”

  “No.” Truly shook her head. “She is Snow White, and I am the Queen of Evil.”

  What the what?

  My twin faced me, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “Think about it. Like the Queen of Evil, I betrayed you time and time again. The night I denied our connection, I all but strangled your heart with pain—as the queen strangled Snow White with the corset. The comb symbolizes my poisonous thoughts about you the day I abandoned you in the palace. The apple symbolizes our new beginning.”

  Wow. She’d given this some thought. And what she’d said made sense...but it didn’t gel with me. Deep down, I knew we were missing a very important puzzle piece.

  “Truly sees what she wants to see,” Violet said, glaring at me. “But you and I know the truth. She is all that is good and fair. You are all that is wicked and wrong.”

  Ignore. The. Hurt.

  “Enough,” Roth barked, surprising me. “You know nothing about her.”

  Surprising Violet, too. She jumped and scowled. “A little too interested in our stepmother, are we?”

  “You can leave my camp now,” I snapped. “Be sure to pick up your Mother of the Year award on your way out.”

  “If Truly stays,” she snapped back, “I stay.”

  Nicolas blasted the queen with a dark, sardonic look. “Stephan would be so proud, Violet. You mimic him well.”

  She huffed and puffed like the big bad wolf. “I am nothing like him.”

  “I don’t care if you are like Uncle Stephan or not. You don’t get to hurt Everly and live to tell the tale.” Hartly lifted her arms. A hundred different animals emerged from the shadows to face off with Violet’s soldiers. Wolves. Dogs. Jaguars. Griffins. Tigers. Minotaurs. Centaurs. They stared at the queen, unimpressed as she withered. “My trolls want a crack at you, too. You’ll taste bitter, I’m sure, but that’s why we brought mustard.”

  My sweet, gentle sister had never threatened a fly, much less another person’s life. Seeing her like this—unwilling to back down in the face of injustice—made me want to be Hartly Morrow when I grew up. The trials she’d endured hadn’t broken her. She’d walked through fire and come out stronger. A diamond. A pruned tree. A butterfly.

  Who could have guessed trolls would be the best thing to ever happen to her, or to me? But they were. They’d kept her safe when I couldn’t. They were strong enough to keep her safe always.

  Nothing mattered more than strength. Nothing.

  “You will not harm Everly. Say it,” Roth commanded. Compulsion crackled in his voice, stunning me.

  I peered up at him, agog. He (usually) reviled his magic, yet he hadn’t hesitated to use every weapon at his disposal to protect me.

  “I will not harm Everly,” she intoned, then blinked with astonishment.

  “Good,” he said. “Tell your men to lower their weapons.”

  “Lower your weapons,” she commanded. As her soldiers obeyed, she frowned and shook her head, confused.

  “No one will be harming anyone.” Ophelia clapped her hands over her head. Power swept through the entire camp, the fine hairs on the back of my neck standing at attention. “Until the rise of the sun, anyone who lashes out at anyone else will experience the same pain, only doubled.”

  Once, the witch had told Farrah she had to make a sacrifice to cast a spell, so I assumed that was the reason she’d given this one a time limit.

  “Yes, we will call a truce for one night,” Noel announced. Everyone went still and quiet, the air crackling with tension, excitement and fear. The whites of her eyes had bled into her irises. “In the morning, all will be made clear. The hunt has begun. The flames are frozen. Friend is foe, and foe is friend. Venom destroys venom. Shackles fly, and trees bleed. The ocean falls, one drop at a time. The end is the beginning, and the beginning is the end.”

  Whispers rose from the crowd, and foreboding crashed into me.

  Ophelia led the oracle away. Violet stalked to Truly, bypassing me without speaking or even glancing in my direction. Her men remained on the outskirts of camp, keeping watch.

  Truly mouthed, Forgive me, as Violet dragged her away.

  “I do not trust Queen Violet,” Warick said.

  “No one does.” Roth traced his fingertips up and down the bumps of my spine, and all I wanted to do was curl against his strong body and bury my face in the hollow of his neck.

  Even outside my cell, he was my chief source of comfort?

  I faced him, my traitorous heart fluttering. Stupid firelight! A golden hue caressed his dark skin, making me want more than comfort from him. “You can spend the night in my tent—on your own pallet.” Or next to me. I liked sleeping in his arms. “In the morning, I’ll use a mirror to take you home.” He had a kingdom to run, and I had a future to figure out—a future without him.

  “I want you to return to Sevón with me.” He cupped my face with his big calloused hands and brushed the rise of my cheeks with his thumbs. “I want you by my side, always.”

  I reeled, my entire world seeming to spin. Tone dry, I said, “Yes, let me trot myself right back to your tower and don my torque.”

  His emerald eyes blazed with a mix of shame and determination. “I’ll burn the tower to ash and outlaw torques, after you’ve imprisoned me for the same amount of time.”

  I kind of believed he’d let me do it. Can’t wrap my mind around this change in him. He was giving me exactly what I’d wanted—before. Now? I couldn’t let it matter because I couldn’t let myself trust him.

  “I’ll either live here in the forest with Allura,” I said, “or move in with Hartly and the trolls.”

  Roth stiffened, but didn’t push—yet. Judging by the stubborn set of his jaw, he would be pushing as soon as we were alone.

  He pointed to somewhere over my shoulder. “I do not like the way that troll looks at you.”

  I turned, dreading who’d I see. Yep, Three Horns was scowling at me. “He won’t attack. Not today, anyway.”

  Nicolas came over, and Roth stiffened further. The two men stared at each other, radiating intense dislike and distrust. I wasn’t sure what to do...until Thor trotted over and peed on my stepfather’s boot.

  Nicolas snarled with displeasure. I stifled a laugh, and his narrowed gaze swung to me.

  “I need to speak with you. Alone.” He pulled me aside, out of Roth’s arms, though Roth he
ld on until the last possible second, rousing satisfaction in me. “I brought some things from home. This particular item, I thought I would need, not my stepdaughters.”

  “What are you—”

  He slapped a condom in my palm. “Either he wraps it up, or he puts it up. We don’t want little royals running around until the prophecy is settled, now, do we? Tomorrow, you should buy a contraception spell from Ophelia, even if it costs you a fortune.”

  I groaned, a blush spreading from my forehead to my toes.

  Roth heard the groan, and hurried to step between Nicolas and me. “What’s wrong? What did you do?”

  Blush heating, I stuffed the foil packet in my pocket. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.” I pinned my stepfather with a look. Don’t you dare tell him.

  Nicolas grinned, a rare sight both beguiling and calculating. “Enjoy your night, Roth.” With that, he stalked off.

  Could this day get any more embarrassing? I scanned the camp, desperate for a distraction. No sign of Noel and Ophelia. Warick led Hartly inside their tent. His trolls circled it, standing guard. Violet led Truly to the tent next door. My twin paused at the entrance to search for...me? Yep. She smiled and waved me over.

  Spend more time with the queen? I shuddered and shook my head, then tempered my refusal with a smile. I had all the time in the world with Truly, but only a limited time with Roth. I might as well hash things out with him tonight, once and for all.

  “Come on,” I said, taking his hand and herding him into my tent. “We need to talk.”

  The second the flap closed behind us, he traced his heated gaze over me, the once-over as potent as a caress, battering my resolve to resist him. I shivered.

  “Shall we get more comfortable first?” He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed the garment to the ground. “I do my best conversing naked. You?”

  Okay, he didn’t just batter my resolve; he annihilated it. His tattooed skin mesmerized me, every ridge of strength drawing me like a moth to a flame. “You’re not playing fair,” I whined.

  “Because no outcome has ever mattered more.”

  Pang. “What is it you want from me?” Maybe I could give him something, the way Hartly had given her trust to Warick, ultimately winning him over.

  Roth didn’t miss a beat. “I want your forgiveness. A second chance. Your name on my roster. Your touch. Your heart.”

  Reeling again... “So, just the basics,” I quipped.

  The corners of his mouth curved up, sending electric pulses zipping along my skin. But his amusement didn’t last long.

  Intent, he said, “I want to give you everything, but I want to take everything, too.”

  As he waited for my response, he trembled. Trembled! I’d seen this boy in the heat of battle. Had witnessed his determination as he’d ended a friend. Had watched him rule a kingdom. Not once had he trembled. I affected him in ways nothing and no one else could.

  Flutters in my belly, fire in my veins. A thrum of tension arched between us. Forget having a conversation. Maybe I would experience everything he offered, just for a night? You know, to say goodbye properly.

  “I’ll always be a sorceress,” I reminded him.

  He held his head high. “And I’ll always be grateful. Helping power you has given me a sense of purpose and satisfaction I’ve never before known.”

  Uncertainty besieged me. He meant those words; I could tell. But I’d been hurt so many times, in so many ways, by so many people. If I forgave him and went all in to a relationship, and he changed his mind, I might not recover.

  He said, “You are nothing like I once assumed, sweetling.”

  “You mean I’m not too bold or too brash? I’m not selfish and greedy? Devious and untrustworthy? Shameless?”

  He withered at each new insult. “You are none of those things. Well, you are the perfect amount of bold and brash. But selfish, greedy? No. You were generous enough to share your power with me. Devious and untrustworthy? No again. You kept secrets when necessary, but never lied. Shameless?” He tweaked my earlobe. “You harbor too much shame, none of it deserved.”

  Argh! He kept saying beautiful things, and my uncertainty kept dimming. “I will never be sweetness and light, Roth.”

  “Do I look like someone who craves sweetness and light?”

  He looked like someone on the edge, who’d seen and done terrible things. Anything to protect his loved ones. “I’m not right for you.” Even though I had the ability to do what few others could: make him laugh.

  “I like everything about you, sorceress.” For the first time, he used the designation as an endearment rather than a curse, his yearning for me palpable. “I would change nothing about you.”

  Hope stirred, the uncertainty almost nonexistent now. Careful. “The prophecy... We are supposed to be enemies.”

  “A life without you, Everly Morrow, is a fate worse than death.” He stalked to me, fisted my hair with one hand and gripped my waist with the other, but he didn’t kiss me as I wanted—needed—to be kissed. “Whatever happens, I will never again consider you an enemy. You are the girl who looks as fragile as glass, yet you have the power to drop a king. The juxtaposition makes me crazed.”

  He saw me as strong? While I fought my attraction to him, simply to ward off future hurts?

  I could have all the strength in the world, but it wouldn’t matter if I didn’t have bravery, too.

  Could I be brave? Could I take a chance on him?

  The aches in my body said, Take a chance!

  I had to agree. The thought of being without him...

  I didn’t want to be without him.

  “Roth,” I said, his name a moan...a prayer.

  We stared at each other, breathed for each other, pressure building between us. Building, building, until I could stand it no more.

  With a needy cry, I rose up on my tiptoes. He bent his head. We kissed, his mouth slanting over mine. Our tongues dueled, tangled and rolled. But he did more than kiss me. He consumed and devoured, lighting a fire inside me. Every inch of me burned and ached.

  As he drank down my ragged moans, I twined my arms around his neck and clung to his strong body. The aches only intensified. The fires burned hotter, my bones liquefying.

  He clasped my lower back to lift me off my feet. I wound my legs around him, and he lowered us both to the ground, his muscled weight settling over me. The new position allowed me to explore new ground.

  I kneaded his shoulders and biceps, the muscles flexing in welcome. When I sank the blunted tips of my nails into his hips, urging him into a slow grind against me, he uttered a growl of pleasure, emboldening me further.

  “Strip me,” I beseeched.

  “Yes,” he hissed. One by one, he stripped away my garments. Slowly. As if savoring the unwrapping of a present he’d wanted forever.

  The sight of my nakedness must have frayed what remained of his control. The tone of our kiss changed, deepening, becoming fevered, wild. Hungry. I could not get enough of it, of him. He touched me in ways I’d never been touched, until the only words I remembered were yes, please and more. Then I couldn’t speak at all, I could only whimper.

  My skin pulled taut, the pressure building inside me now. Building and building. Any second I would explode into a thousand pieces—I wanted to explode.

  With a groan, he wrenched his mouth from mine. I moaned a protest, until he began to strip, shucking his clothes, his boots.

  He resettled on top of me and pressed our foreheads together. We panted, breathing each other’s air again. “Are you sure about this? You want me this way?”

  “Since coming to Enchantia, I’ve faced death again and again. I do not know what battles loom ahead, but I do know I want this night with you.” I rolled my hips, grinding against his hardness. “I have...protection, in my pocket.”

  “Protection?” he aske
d, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple.

  My cheeks heated as I explained. “You will be my first.” My only. “I don’t have any, uh, sexual diseases.”

  “I do not have any, either. And we do not need to worry about pregnancy until we are ready. Magic,” he said, and tapped a wrist cuff. “The cuffs are enchanted to prevent both pregnancy and disease.”

  Could I trust someone else’s magic?

  “I do not want you worried about anything. I will wear the condom, too, yes?” he said, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  He kissed me, then kissed me again before bending down to swipe up my discarded clothing. After withdrawing the foil packet, he studied it like an earthling would study an alien baby in a pod. “I’ve never seen anything like this. You’ll have to help me with it.”

  Once we had figured out how to put it on, fumbling around, I expected everything to speed up. Instead, he settled over me once again, a wonderfully wicked gleam in his eyes, and kissed every inch of me. Kissed, sucked, licked. Touched, caressed. Kneaded, rubbed. His fingers played with me until I was gasping incoherently once more and writhing against him.

  “Can’t get enough of you,” he rasped.

  Our gazes met, held. Tension tightened his face. Sweat trickled from his temples. He adored me with his gaze, reflecting wonder and excitement. “Ready?”

  “Beyond,” I said, breathless.

  Seconds later, I lost my virginity. And maybe my heart, too.

  42

  Death has come.

  Who will succumb?

  I lay draped over Roth’s body, struggling to breathe as my heart continued to race. With my ear pressed against his pec, I got to hear his heart race in sync with mine. Such a sweet, soothing lullaby. I never wanted it to end.

  Fatigue settled over me like a warm blanket, lulling my mind into darkness. I fought to remain awake. I wanted to savor this time with my king...who was busy finger-combing my hair.

  When he finished with that, he traced the ridges of my spine and kneaded my backside. I only wanted more.

  This boy had worshipped every inch of me, as promised. And, after being on the receiving end of his adoring gaze and reverent touch, I could hold on to my grudge no longer. I decided to let it go.