by Ali Winters
I already know what it is before I slide out of bed. It’s been the same every day since the masquerade, for a week straight. A summons from the queen bitch, demanding an audience of me, monopolizing every spare minute that she can while we’re here. As if that will change my mind about finally accepting her “offer.”
But today, she has sent her messenger hours earlier than usual.
One more week, then we will be free of her and this place.
I amble to the door, still groggy from too little sleep. A human servant awaits on the other side with impeccable posture, chin up, and eyes downcast.
“Pardon the intrusion, my prince,” he says.
I wait for him to continue, but when he doesn’t, I snap, “What is it?”
Without so much as a twitch, he takes a deep breath and says, “Her majesty, the queen, wishes to have breakfast with you.”
“No. Tell her I am still sleeping. She can demand my time later.” I move to close the door in his face.
He clears his throat. “Her majesty says that if you do not, then the human will die.”
My heartbeat stutters. I immediately look over my shoulder to Clara, still sleeping peacefully, limbs tangled in the blankets. An image flashes in my mind’s eye of her dismembered and covered in blood, the sheets and blankets soaked through. Elizabeth would do it without blinking. She would do anything to get what she wants.
“Fine,” I growl. “Wait here.”
I let Clara sleep as I dress quickly, planning to return before she wakes. This has to stop. I will take Clara and leave early if I have to.
Cherno’s head pops up from the spot they claimed on the ceiling beam. I motion for them to remain here. This meeting won’t take long. It’s the same thing for the last seven days. Elizabeth will ask me to take my place as her prince, and I will refuse.
The demon gives a questioning chirp but makes no move to defy my order. Their power is noticeably weaker since arriving. Yet another reason to leave as soon as possible. Cherno has spent the majority of their time hiding in the shadows, no longer even speaking, to provide me to draw the maximum amount of their power.
The drain on Cherno’s power is steady. Otherworld damn Kharis… Elizabeth’s demon is targeting Cherno more and more each day. Elizabeth is a fool if she thinks I don’t notice.
I follow the servant, and we make our way down the hall. My eyes narrow at the back of the human’s head as he places his foot on the first step leading up rather than down the stairwell.
“I thought you said the queen wanted to have breakfast.”
He doesn’t falter. “Breakfast will be held in the queen’s chambers.”
I clench my teeth so hard my jaw aches and follow him up wordlessly, dreading the next hour.
We stop before an ornate door. It is one I know all too well, one I had hoped to never see again once I left this place for good all those years ago.
Carved into the wood is a large oak tree with leaves covering the branches and roots stretching out below, as deep as they are high.
The servant steps off to the side, bowing as he backs away.
I continue to stare at the door, remembering everything from my time here in perfect, excruciating detail. The seemingly endless days and nights, the months that lasted an eternity. The cloying scent of lilacs and sugar.
“My prince?” the man asks tentatively, jarring me from my memories.
I glower but push open the door and enter the massive antechamber larger than my own room. A fire roars in a hearth so big a tall man could walk into it without ducking his head. Across from me is a set of bleached wood doors leading to her bedroom.
Elizabeth lounges across the settee, drinking blood. Her demon, Kharis, perches near her head, watching me. Red clings to the glass as Elizabeth slowly lowers it, revealing a sultry curl of her lips.
Once that smile would have moved me, I used to think it was crafted especially for me. Now, I know it was only one more weapon in her arsenal. I never loved her, never felt anything close to it. She could make anyone believe she loved them, and only them.
But there had always been something missing in her. Hollow and broken. She was too manipulative, too demanding and selfish to ever be loved by anyone.
The raven spreads their wings and flaps them twice, stirring the loose strands of Elizabeth’s hair before taking to the air. The demon glides around the room, their eyes remaining locked on me the entire time. Finally, they settle near a hanging, gilded cage too small for the large bird.
“What do you want at this demon-cursed hour of the day?” I snap.
Elizabeth flutters her eyelashes as she lowers her feet to the floor and rises gracefully. Every move, every breath is designed to be attractive and accentuate her lithe body. She drains the last of her cup and sets it down on a glass table while giving me a carefully constructed pout. All of the acting and posturing yet her expressions still lack genuine emotion.
She has learned nothing in our time apart.
The thin black dress clings to her form. A slit runs up from the hem to her hips on each side, so her legs show with each step.
Elizabeth saunters over to me, hips swaying, and presses her chest against mine. She slides her hands over my shoulders and locks her fingers behind my neck. She sighs, relaxing into me.
“I have missed you all these years, my prince. You’ve been away from home for far too long.”
Home? My lip curls in disgust at the thought of calling this place home. It had never been home—will never be home. It was my prison once but never anything more.
I take her shoulders and hold her at arm’s length. “This is not my home. You know that.”
Elizabeth juts a hip out and crosses her arms under her breasts. “Don’t be like that, my prince. This will always be your home.”
I swallow down further argument. We could talk this point to death and never get anywhere. “Elizabeth, I have been here for over a week, and you have summoned me at least once a day. Why do you insist on acting as if this is the first meeting in over a hundred years?”
She trails a finger up my lapel. “But, this time we are truly alone.”
I sidestep and cross to the fireplace. Above the mantle hangs her portrait. “Let’s get on with this. Tell me why you called me here this time.”
Elizabeth drops her arms to her sides and blows out a puff of air, and just like that. All of her attempts to be seductive are gone.
She straightens and pours herself a drink from the bar—wine mixed with blood. She takes a long draw, eyeing me up and down. “It is time for you to stop this foolishness and come to live here again. For good.”
I freeze, not even drawing so much as a breath. “I told you no.”
“You are the crown prince, and I have given you more than sufficient leeway in entertaining your whims. It’s time you take your rightful place at my side.” She drags a finger along the wood bar then examines it, rubbing her finger and thumb together as if she was checking for dust.
“How many times must we have this conversation?”
“As many times as we have to for you to make the correct decision.”
“I’m not interested. I have a home in Windbury.”
Elizabeth hums. “Yes… You do.”
My gaze narrows. Simple words, yet they are laced with more meaning than they should be. A thought occurs to me. “You sent Victor to my home knowing he was demon cursed, didn’t you?”
She brings her drink to her lips and bats her eyes at me over the rim, her brows rising in mock surprise. When she finishes, she sets the empty glass down and says, “So, I suppose you killed him then, and that is why he never returned with the rest of you.”
I mull over my next words carefully. She could sense a lie if I dared, but I will not damn Clara. “He has been dealt with.”
Elizabeth sticks out her bottom lip. “You owe me for killing my newest prince. Now you have to stay here to make up for it.”
“Otherworld damn you, Elizabeth. Y
ou can’t use people like that to manipulate me. Victor’s fate is on your shoulders. You turned him and sent him. You know those who are cursed must die. It is your law.”
She closes the distance and latches on to my arm, tugging me toward the bedroom on the other side of the white doors. She may possess a slight build, but she has the strength of her demon.
She bumps the twin doors, pushing them open with her hips, and drags me through. At the sight of her oversized bed, my blood runs cold. I tug on her grip, halting in the threshold.
“Come now, Alaric. Don’t be like that. Let’s catch up and get to know each other like we used to,” she purrs.
“No.” I tug on my arm, but her fingers clamp down tighter.
“Alaric, you killed one of my princes, the first in over a hundred years. You owe me.”
I grab her wrist and pry it off my arm then twist her around to face me. “Elizabeth, stop this at once. You may have turned me, but do not think I have forgotten the circumstances you forced me into.” I lower my face and speak low and calm. “I owe you nothing.” I release her and back up, putting much-needed space between us. “I will not touch you, and things will never be as they used to be. You need to understand that. Now if there is no business for us to discuss, then I must be going.”
I turn my back on her. Already I can feel the fiery rage of her anger searing against my back, but I calmly close the doors to her bedroom, separating us, and walk out of her room.
It’s not until I am down the stairs and down the hall that I can finally breathe a sigh of relief. That was too close. Elizabeth is becoming more demanding and aggressive.
I don’t know how much longer it will be before this becomes a battle between our demons. I must be gone before then, or I fear neither Cherno nor I will make it through.
Chapter Nine
Clara
The warm scent of cinnamon and butter pulls me from sleep. The mouthwatering spices mix with the light smell of fire burning in the hearth. My mouth waters before I peel open my eyes. I roll over and discover Alaric’s side of the bed empty. I splay my fingers over the sheets. They’re cool to the touch.
Disappointment sits bitter on my tongue. If I had any preconceived notions about what it would be like here, they have been doused by the second day after the masquerade. I have spent the majority of my time cooped up in this room, my thoughts alternating between three things: Alaric, my mother, and the demon deep underground layer.
As the moon rises high in the night sky, thoughts of the demon take over, drowning out even the constant loneliness that plagues me. In my dreams, no matter how they start, I always find my way back down there, seeking the demon out, talking to them, trying to free them. I shudder.
Shaking my head, I chase away the images of glowing red eyes and black smoke held captive by silver that shines even in the dark. I drag myself out of bed, slipping into my worn, fitted doeskin pants, a clean shirt, and my knee-high boots. Out of habit, I slide the night-forged dagger into the hidden sheath strapped to my left arm.
I don’t want to spend another day waiting, waiting, waiting, waiting for Alaric to return. I want to see more of this place, to step outside and be wrapped in the crisp, winter air.
Hoarfrost coats the edges of the windows, glittering against the bright, vibrant blue of the afternoon sky. Here on the side of the mountains, the days are even shorter than I’m used to, lasting only a handful of hours.
I take a seat at the small, round table in the adjoining room. There’s a tray of fruit and a steaming pot of floral tea. Most importantly, there is a plate stacked with sticky buns. I grab one and take a large bite. The warm bread is light and fluffy. I moan as the flavors hit my tongue—sugar, cinnamon, butter, and something else I can’t identify. They are far superior to the patisserie back in Littlemire. Still chewing, cheeks stuffed to capacity, I pour myself a cup of tea.
After three cups and four sticky buns, I lean back in my chair and pat my full belly. It’s tempting to finish the plate, but if I do, there is no way I’ll be able to get up from this spot.
I stand. The sweetness of the pastries buzzes through my veins. A walk will do me good.
Poking my head out into the hallway, I make sure no one else is around before closing the door behind me.
I haven’t seen Mother since the masquerade. It is both a relief and a disappointment. She hasn’t tried to find me since that night… if she’s even here anymore at all.
She left her entire family once without a word. It wouldn’t surprise me that she would leave again without attempting to say goodbye.
Squaring my shoulders, I push her from my thoughts. I don’t want to spend another moment thinking about the woman who probably never thought about me, Kitty, or Father since the day she was claimed.
I turn toward the stairs that will take me to the main halls. It’s not long before a group of vampires round a corner. Pressing my back to the wall, I lower my chin, watching them through my lashes. As long as I appear subservient, I’ll be safe, and the vampires leave me alone with little more than the occasional curious glance.
After wandering down a few more passages, the bite of the air calls to me. I rub my hand over a frosted pane of glass and look out. Below, in the courtyard, is a garden surrounded by maze-like stonewalls that appear to be seven- or eight-feet high. There is no one anywhere near the garden. It’s exactly what I was hoping to find: solitude and the cloudless sky.
I make my way down. Gravel crunches underfoot as I step outside. I shiver against the cold, but it feels good to breathe in the crisp, wintery air. I walk along the main path, not quite entering the maze.
So much has happened since we arrived, and most of it within the first three days. Alaric and I share a bed when we sleep, but somehow, there is still no time to talk. He or I are too tired or I want to enjoy what few moments of peace we have together.
There is never enough time.
A dry, gray stone fountain sits in the center of the open court. Vines twist and knot around the base and over the lip to partially fill the basin. Over the entrance to the maze is a latticework arch with flowers that seemed to have frozen overnight, their delicate petals bruising from the cold. I venture further in admiring the beauty of the late afternoon sun shining through the dying plants.
“Clara?”
I spin, stumbling back a step to catch my balance.
Alaric stands an arm’s length away. Consumed with my own thoughts as I wandered around the garden, I hadn’t heard him approach. Seeing his beautiful face takes my breath away. I’ve missed him, but it surprises me just how much.
“What are you doing out here alone, and without your cloak?” he asks. He closes the distance between us, moving like the predator he is. My pulse kicks up slightly, and I lick my dry lips.
I lift a shoulder and offer a half-shrug. “I’m fine without it. I just wanted some air,” I say. Of course, this would be the moment a shiver skates over my body.
Alaric wraps me up in his arms. “You’re cold. We should go inside.”
I melt into his embrace and shake my head, cheek press to his chest. “I want to stay here a little longer.”
“All right,” he says, holding me a little tighter.
Neither of us speaks or moves for a long moment.
“I feel like I never see you anymore. You’re always… busy,” I murmur.
I wrinkle my nose. I don’t know where Alaric goes or what he does when he’s away, and he never wants to talk about it. Even now, he stiffens as I skirt the issue. I pull back, staring at the ground, fighting the unreasonable hurt that wants to bubble up. I kick at a pebble. It skitters away, getting lost in the thousands of others.
“I know,” he says flatly.
And with that admission, he’s closed off again, pulling up his walls to keep me away from whatever he’s been dealing with. I swallow delicately and chew on my bottom lip.
“Every time you leave, part of me wonders if it will be the last time,” I admit quie
tly. Alaric frowns, but I continue before he can interrupt me and promise me that everything will be fine. “You’re fated to be at her side, and I can’t help but wonder if one of these times, she will take you from me.”
Alaric cups my face, his long fingers tangling into my hair at the nape of my neck. “We alone will decide our fate. No prophecy, witch, demon, or queen can take that from us.” He brings his face closer until our noses touch. I let my eyelids slide closed. “You are the human I claimed, and I will never regret that.”
My fingers tighten on his arms as he lowers his mouth to mine. It starts sweet, promising that he won’t leave me here alone. Then his lips part mine, and I open myself to him. The kiss transforms into something wild and unnamed.
He crushes me to his chest, and my back bumps against something solid and cold. The chill seeps through my clothes immediately, but I don’t care. My skin is hot, and every nerve in my body comes alive everywhere he touches me. My blood ignites in my veins. All I want is him.
Alaric slides his hands down my waist and over my hips to grab my ass. He lifts me up, pinning me between the wall and his body. I wrap my legs around his waist. I can feel him harden against me.
A voice, muffled and far away, calls out.
Alaric groans against my mouth and pulls away. I’m not ready to let him go yet, but he releases me, his hands gliding up as my feet slowly lower to the ground. We’re both panting. Our hot breaths plume in the air between us. We share a smile at almost getting carried away.
“Alaric?” Lawrence calls.
I glower in the direction of his voice as we smooth the wrinkles from our clothes. Alaric leans forward and places a chaise kiss on my cheek, pulling away just as Lawrence enters the maze with us.
“There you are,” he says flatly. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. You have been summoned.”
Alaric pulls away from me, snarling at the man. “I refuse to go to another private meeting. She can rot in the Otherworld for all I care.”
