“As you will, Your Highness.” Olrick bowed to her. I often wondered just how tired our men got of bowing to us, but it was a tradition we weren’t going to be able to break them of, and frankly, given that we truly did need their respect, I had thought the better of trying to put a stop to it.
Peyton shrugged. “I guess I’ll stay here and help Ysandra and Luna. I can’t make it through the storm very well, I know that much. And I don’t want to be a hindrance. So I’ll do what I can here.” She was still very quiet, even compared to her usual stoic nature.
“I guess we’re settled, then.” Antsy, wishing Lannan would get here so we could start, I walked into the parlor to stretch my legs. Grieve followed behind me, closing the door to give us some privacy.
“Cicely?” His voice echoed with uncertainty. As I held out my arms, he pulled me into his embrace, covering my face with kisses.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He sounded rattled, and I looked up at him, startled by the pain in his expression.
Worried now, I reached up to stroke his face. “What for? What did you do? What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? Everything. Myst . . . the fact that you were supposed to be the Queen of Summer and live in a land of warmth and beauty. . . . I feel like my love drew you back here, and look what happened.”
He held me so tight I almost couldn’t breathe. “I blame myself for getting you and your cousin involved in this mess. Chatter and I were assigned to guard you while you were young. I knew you were my Cherish, from before, so I never thought about what loving you now might mean. I almost think it would have been better if I hadn’t reminded you of who you were. If I hadn’t fallen in love with you all over again.”
I struggled back a step, pushing him by the shoulders so he could get a good look at my face. “Listen to me, and I do mean listen. None of this is your fault. We bound ourselves together eons ago. Our love has existed down through time. I’ve seen the past, and I know that at least once, I killed myself when I was a little girl because I realized I’d been born in the wrong time and you wouldn’t be there with me.”
“But everything is a mess.”
“Of course it is. Myst is still alive, and she’s the one to ultimately blame. She turned you, she took over the Summer and Winter Courts, she made the halls bleed with the life of your people. And of my people. Rhiannon and I were born for this—you know that. We were destined to take our places as the Queens of Winter and Summer. You certainly aren’t to blame for our births.”
“I know, but I can’t help but feel . . .” He stopped, and I realized what was going on. But I’d lay odds that Grieve didn’t even know.
“You know what’s eating you? You feel guilty over the fact that she turned you. Somewhere in there,” I touched my hand to his heart. “Somewhere inside your heart, you really do believe that you could have somehow prevented her from turning you. You think that maybe you could have stopped her from destroying your people if you’d only—”
“If I’d only been smarter . . . stronger . . . had seen her coming.” He finished the sentence for me, as I knew he would.
“The fact is, love, you couldn’t have done a damned thing. She took everybody by surprise. If she was able to pull a fast one on Lainule and Wrath, how can you believe—for even one minute—that you could have made a difference? She’s strong. Not invincible, but Hunter is right—she’s cunning. And old. Add in that insatiable drive for power she has, as well as the jealousy she feels, and it makes her the most dangerous foe we’re ever likely to face. And that doesn’t even begin to factor in her thirst for revenge against me.” I smiled then, and though it felt pale, at least it was a smile.
“Grieve, my sweet, Myst was set up for this. She was bred for it. When Geoffrey turned her, he miscalculated. He turned an unstable member of the Dark Fae who had a thirst for power. How could Myst not be the adversary she is, given her breeding?”
Grieve looked at me for a moment; then his shoulders relaxed and he pulled me down onto the sofa with him, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “This is the strangest life. . . .”
“And I’m the strangest wife you could probably ever have.” I snuggled into his arm, resting my head on his shoulder. “So, when this is all over and done with, what do we do? Settle into a long, happy, boring life?”
Laughing, Grieve planted a kiss on my forehead. “Life with you could never be boring. No, I foresee children . . . ruling your kingdom—”
“Our kingdom.”
“Our kingdom. You will learn our customs and we will try to learn yours. And if Lannan tries to touch you again, I will stake him through the heart. Or better yet, I’ll cut off his balls and feed them to the one pet Shadow Hunter I’ll have kept on the end of a leash. Or . . . if you need him, we will figure out a way to make it work.” Grieve chuckled. “You, my sweet, are the most beautiful Ice Queen there could ever be.”
“The Snow Queen . . .” I mused. “With a heart of ice and a silver dagger in hand.”
Grieve placed his hand over my heart. “You may run cold now, the transformation changed your body—this is true—but your heart is as hot and passionate as the sun.” He pulled me close and his mouth met mine, lingering as he gently bit my bottom lip and worried it with his sharp, razor teeth.
I murmured his name, my breath meeting his, and he laid me back onto the sofa, shifting so he was on top of me. The weight of his body was warm and inviting, sending spirals of hunger through my legs, torso, deep into my cunt. I wanted him, now. We were facing a harsh journey, and if we didn’t return, I wanted the memory of one last passionate night with my love.
“Do we have time?” Grieve’s whisper was so soft I could barely hear it.
“I don’t care. They can wait. I want you now.” I struggled to pull down my jeans. The corset be damned—it could stay on, but as Grieve lifted up, I unzipped my pants and pushed them down past my knees, then slid one leg out to drape over the edge of the sofa. My ass rubbed gently against the afghan covering the leather and itched ever so slightly against my skin, both irritating me and yet, arousing me further. My nipples pressed against the lace of my strapless bra, chafing, and I wanted to tear both bra and corset off, to free my breasts for Grieve to bite, to suck, to grab hold and revel in.
He slid his hand down between my legs, fingering me, sliding one finger along my clit as it engorged, pressuring me to catch my breath. He began to rub, slowly at first, then fast, twirling his fingers lightly so that I didn’t have time to breathe between the spasms that began to drive me harder and higher. As I wrapped my arms around his back, his jacket and tunic vanished and my hands were sliding along his smooth skin, feeling the muscles ripple beneath the taut flesh. I trailed my touch down to his butt—his pants vanished—and grabbed hold of his ass, cupping his cheeks firmly in my hands as he pressed against me.
The smell of his body—of spruce and cold northern woods, of cinnamon and bonfires from the darkest night—sent me reeling. He intoxicated me, made me want to lose myself in his embrace, to let him do whatever he wanted with me. I was his to play, to stroke, to manipulate, and the knowledge that he wanted me made me hotter than hell. Desire was an aphrodisiac, and being the object of desire, a heady drug.
“Hold still,” he ordered, and I froze, obeying. Three fingers slid inside me, driving with a deep pulse, widening me up, making me hungry. I wanted his cock, plunging into me to fill me thick and full with his hot, salty cum. As he thrust his fingers in and out of my pussy, I could feel the liquid sliding around his hand, along my labia, down the sides of my cunt.
I gasped as he suddenly pulled away, but before I could look up, his head was between my thighs, his tongue playing across me, licking, sucking, biting ever so slightly. The sting from his teeth sent me higher and I bucked, my legs pushing upward, but Grieve grabbed the sides of my hips and held me firm as he kept going.
The pressure gr
ew. I tried to moderate my breathing but then he rose over me, and the look on his face was dark and fierce, his eyes a swirl of stars against their inky background. His cock stood firm, thick and rigid, a few drops of pre-cum glistening on the tip of it. I struggled to sit up, and he lifted me, his hands sliding under my arms.
I quickly slid around, on my hands and knees, so I was facing his shaft, and as he braced against the back of the sofa, I took his rod in one hand and guided the pulsing flesh into my mouth, pressing my lips together so that he had to push hard to force himself through them. I tightened, creating a delicious suction around the head of his penis, and began to trace my tongue around the salty flesh, reveling in the feel as he expanded my mouth.
Grieve moaned, his head dropping back, his platinum hair draping down his back. I closed my eyes and began to take him deeper as he thrust gently with his hips. I relaxed my throat as I swallowed him down, my head bobbing as I sucked, drawing back and then forward again as I slid along the length of his cock, stopping to tickle the ridge with my tongue before wrapping it around him.
His breathing increased as I sped up, and he fisted my hair, letting out a strangled cry as I matched the pulse of his heartbeat, milking him with my lips, not letting him rest.
His cock began to twitch, and I could feel he was on the edge, so I sucked harder, and then, with one deep thrust, he came, filling my mouth with his salty seed. I swallowed, caught in the passion, drawing every drop out onto my tongue and licking him clean. A moment later, he lifted me up and tipped me back, still ready to go. I opened my thighs. Nothing else existed—nothing but Grieve and me, and this moment.
His eyes were glimmering now, a triumphant expression on his face, and he drove down, his cock sliding deep inside me, penetrating to the hilt. As my cunt expanded to welcome him in, he brushed against my clit, and I came, sharp and hard, not expecting it yet. I let out a sharp cry, and then he was fucking me quickly, driving deep with each thrust.
“Fuck me. Fuck me hard. Do anything you want to me.” I shifted as the feel of his body against mine once more began to send me spiraling. He was my prince, my lover, my deadly protector, and he had died for me—with me. I began to come again, the waves of orgasm spread through me in long concentric ripples, and once again I lost myself in the love of my wounded king.
Lannan was waiting in the living room as Grieve and I came out of the parlor, a smug look on his face. I stared at him, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I had a love-hate affair going on with the vampire, and he was in my life for good or ill, regardless of how I felt about it.
He stepped forward, stopped inches from me, then gave me a faux bow, his lip curling up at one edge. He was so close that I could have felt his breath on me, if he were to breathe. But he was cold, still, no pulse, no beat of the heart. I raised my eyes, stared into his face. He caught my gaze, leaned down so a mere fraction of space separated our lips.
“Cicely . . . pardon me . . . Your Majesty. So we are going hunting together, are we?” The jibe hit, but even though it pissed me off, we had more important things to focus on. “Your friends have filled me in on your plans, while you were occupied.” Lannan could imply a world of innuendo with a single word, and the whisper of disrespect behind the word promised everything and yet nothing.
His voice brushed over me like a rough shirt, one that irritated just enough to arouse, but not enough to hurt.
Beside me, Grieve bristled, but I quietly touched his arm and he stood down. “Now that you’re here, we should start out.”
Lannan sobered. “First, word from the outside.” His abrupt change of mood made me nervous.
I motioned for everyone to sit down. “What’s going on?”
“The electricity? Several major transformers have gone down—nobody knows why—and Seattle is black. And from what I’ve been able to ascertain, the Shadow Hunters are moving into the city.”
Fuck. A major city, dead in the water. Seattle never fared well in snow anyway—a few inches of snow was enough to grind the wheels to a halt. A blizzard was bad enough, but now without power, and with an influx of predators? Things were going to get very bloody, very fast.
“The Consortium is over there. Can they do anything?” I glanced at Ysandra. “What will they do?”
She paled. “Whatever they can. They may be able to take the city into a magical lockdown, but it will take everything they have, and they have to know what’s going on in the first place in order to plan out anything.” Turning to Lannan, she asked, “Is there any way you can send someone in to contact them?”
He considered her question for a moment, then a slow smile crept across his face. “I already did, Ysandra. When we realized what was happening, I contacted some of our people over there and asked them to get the fuck into Dodge and take care of alerting everybody who had any possibility of helping. It’s up to them now—the cell towers over there went down shortly after. We have no idea what the fuck’s going down now.”
“If Seattle falls . . . If she turns all the magic-born there to help her . . .” Just like Myst had turned Heather. The Vampiric Fae could turn the magic-born and control them, and they would retain their powers while under Myst’s control. A city that had several thousand of the magic-born in it? Taken by the Mistress of Mayhem? Her armies would be unstoppable. And what if she managed to overpower the Consortium? With the best of the best under her control? The world really could fall to her rule.
“Exactly. But that’s not all of the news.” Lannan was looking bleaker by the moment.
“There’s more? Worse?”
He nodded. “You know the Indigo Court has pockets of Shadow Hunters tucked all over the place, right? They’ve had thousands of years to breed.”
I didn’t want to hear this. I knew that I didn’t want to hear this.
Ysandra pushed to her feet. “They’re launching unified attacks, aren’t they? If so here—on several cities at once—why not in several areas of the country at once?”
Lannan gave her a nod as the silence in the room thickened. “Not just several areas of the country, but several countries. Several of the other regional Fae Courts are under siege. They are fighting to their best—”
“And so the long winter extends her grasp.” Grieve stood. “We’d best be off, then. The sooner we discover her heartstone, the sooner we can end this.”
Lannan inclined his head to me. For once, there was no sense of animosity between the two men. “We await your lead, Winter.”
I inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. Turning to the others, I scanned their faces, one by one. “So, we are here at last. Ysandra, you and your crew will surround us with protection for as long as you can. Luna, you and Dorthea send the dead through the town to take down Myst’s forces. Rhia—you and Chatter will oversee our forces heading out through New Forest. Peyton, work with the guards here to watch the house.”
And then it hit me. This might be it—anything could happen through the night, for good or ill. We might not all come through tonight, and tomorrow either Myst would stand triumphant, or we would have destroyed her heartstone. Because if she won this battle, chances were she’d win the war.
By the looks on the others’ faces, they knew this, too. We stood, staring at one another in silence for the better part of a minute.
And then, slowly, Rhiannon reached out and took Chatter’s hand. He took Peyton’s, then Ysandra, Luna, Lannan, Kaylin, Grieve, and I joined in. As I took Rhia’s hand, completing the circle, we stood in silence. I wasn’t sure who started it, but a line of energy began to snake through our fingers, linking us strong, linking our hopes, our goals, our fears, and our prayers.
As the energy increased, swishing through us like a whirling snake, Ulean joined in, and for a brief moment, we were one—linked by a common goal, linked by our pasts, linked by our hopes for the future. With a swift whoosh, the energy spiraled up into a cone, an
d I realized I was holding the tether. I focused it on Myst—on driving the force toward her heart. As it peaked, with a sharp break, I cut it loose and let it fly.
Dizzy, I stumbled back, as did the others, but then Lannan stepped away while the rest of us cheered and cried and held one another.
I held Rhia by the shoulders. “You know I love you.”
She smiled, the summer sun beaming through her eyes. “I know. We’ll win this, Cicely. We’ll win this because we have to win this. And then . . . the future will take care of itself. You and I will guide the Barrows into a new day.” She leaned in, gave me a kiss on the cheek. “We are fire and ice.”
“Amber and jet.”
“Summer and Winter.”
As I slowly pulled away, I turned to Chatter. “Take care of my cousin . . . just in case I don’t make it back.”
He gave me a soft smile, so strong in himself compared to the Chatter I’d first met a few weeks ago. “No need, Lady Cicely. You will be here to do that yourself.”
“I hope so.” Sucking in a deep breath, I called for my owl cloak. “We’d best go now.”
Ulean swept in close to me, and Grieve took my left side. Hunter and Lannan guarded the right. The guards—nine total, including three vampires, and six of my men led by Check and Fearless—surrounded us. They were helping Kaylin, who couldn’t walk atop the snow. The vampires were light on their feet when they wanted to be—and so we headed out the door, into the blinding storm, silently moving into the swirl of white that had become the night.
The shadow of the Golden Wood helped protect us from the storm to some extent, though the drifting dunes left our world a barren landscape of white mounds against the black shadows of the trees. The silence was punctuated only by the hiss of the falling snow, and the scent of ozone crackled in the air. I caught my breath—the temperature was icy, but it didn’t bother me, not now.
Night's End Page 21
