Legends of Astræa: Cupid's Arrow Book 1 (Legends of Astræa Series)

by Sophia Alessandrini

  “It will be all right, my lady,” Enit whispered gently as she padded my hair dry, noticing that it had grown and reached my waist, but it was her words that shook me out of my inane sorrow. My lady?

  “Ailie. I am Ailie,” I reminded her.

  “Soon, I will be calling you, Your Majesty,” she said. Oh-God-no.

  “Meantime, I am still Ailie to you and Francis. Is that clear?” I was hoping there was an always. “Where is Francis?” I asked her.

  “Resting, I hope. He insisted he had to take care of things, but Master Greco said he had everything under control, so I sent Francis straight for the shower and to rest,” she said. The way I pictured it was almost comical. He had been sent to his room like a little kid by his conscious other self. However, nothing was funny today. I wished I could speak to Gavril.

  “Gavril, where is he?” I had almost forgotten about him. We moved out of the bathroom and into a large blue room with many doors, circular settees, and priceless tables. At that moment in time, I could care less.

  “He is in Francis’s care,” she said, but something told me she didn’t want to speak about him.

  “Would you tell him to come? I need to speak to him,” I asked her.

  “Ailie.” She pulled me to face her, as if I could see her and as if she could make me understand something serious. I didn’t like the way this was going. “Gavril is not allowed in your room,” she said.

  “Then I’ll come to him.”

  “He is not allowed to see you either,” she answered. CRAP.

  I moved toward the large balcony to see the structure of the outside roof tiles, and wall and window moldings. “I can sneak into Francis’s room, just tell me which one it is,” I said.

  “You can’t do that either,” she said ominously.

  “Why not?” Now I was getting upset and worried.

  “Look, Ailie, I understand your friendship with him, but the kid loves you. You should stop this now—for his own sake,” she said. What! Did he? No way.

  “Please tell me I can at least see him,” I asked her, but her silence was too much. “Tell me why not. The real reason,” I demanded to know.

  “Because he is wearing an electronic collar that is hooked wirelessly into Reginald’s phone screen. If he as much brakes the rules or stretches the collar, his head goes poof.”

  Crap.

  All right that was too much, and I knew who exactly who was to blame. I turned on my bare heels and headed toward the doors.

  “Wait, there are others waiting for you,” Enit warned, as I reached the large double doors. A large, headless, Victorian, metal mannequin stood in the corner next to the doors. I realized then that the room I was leaving was my private dressing room. But all I was thinking was that the prince was either taking the collar off Gavril’s throat or receiving the end of my fist.

  I stepped into the center of the queen’s chamber, confronting the sight of it with a gaping mouth.

  The room was large—no—gigantic.

  A four-post bed with a canopy in gold and white dominated one side of the room. The fireplace mantel on the opposite side was taller than I was. Over it hung a large oil painting of the queen. Her dark auburn hair supported a crown that contrasted against the throne background. Her whereabouts were unknown as well as if she was even alive. I wondered if one day she would be back in this room—her room. I felt as if I was taking over, invading her personal space.

  Then I noticed several Draugr—it was hard to tell how many, except those with pointy swords—and a couple Strzyga maidens that had been waiting for me inside the antechamber. They bowed reverently. One held a metric tape, while the other had books full of fabric samples. I charged away from them and slammed open the wide double doors. A chorus of gasps followed me from behind. I didn’t stop my strides that shifted into a run.

  I knew where the prince had to be. I just had to follow the pull from the humming in my chest.

  Gavril, I mind-called. Well, more like I screamed his name, but all I got was silence. The weird type where you know he was present but didn’t want to speak to me. I know you are up here in the palace, I said and added, I will fix this.

  I followed that force, a gravitational pull that was stronger than ever, toward the backside of the palace. I passed several humans in commando gear and two circus-attired royal guards who bowed and opened the large French doors to what looked to be a terrace.

  I stepped outside the romantic veranda. Crickets sang. The stars shone like jewels in the sky. I breathed the fresh balmy air, but it felt like it was heavily charged with electricity. There was no one outside, but my hearts continued to pound. I continued my direction and stepped down from the terrace and into the most beautiful gardens I had ever seen. Correction. I had seen these gardens before. I recognized the sculptures and statues spread all over, but what I recognized better was the tall green labyrinth. The one where the queen and Count Victorian-Lace-rags had more than played. I had seen this garden in my dreams.

  The prince was nearby. I could feel my hearts beating so fast and loud there was almost no room for anything else. I followed a path beyond the labyrinth. Physically, all I could muster was getting there. I felt the deranging anticipation… with every step.

  Then I heard the sound of water splashing. It came from the poolside. I knew then he was there and very close. I continued that direction. Oh, he was going to hear me out. I had about enough of this nonsense. I followed the noise, but then again, I could have walked with my eyes closed since the magnetic pull was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. I wondered if he felt it too.

  The law of attraction in physics I’d read long ago came to mind. “The mutual action by which bodies or particles of matter tend to draw together or cohere.” But there was no logical coherence here. I was like a half-baked zombie under a spell. My free will wasn’t exactly mine anymore. How was that even possible? It responded to nothing but the magnetic force.

  I didn’t diminish my footsteps, until I heard the distinctive sound of someone getting out of the water. I stood frozen and speechless at the sight of him. I was twenty feet away, and he was approaching where I stood. The dark shadows covered his face, but I knew at this point this was the prince.

  Maybe I should have run away, but my feet wouldn’t move more, even if I wanted to. Barely three feet away, he had stopped at my presence, looking at me as puzzled as I was. He was almost naked—well, he was wearing a speedo—a very small one. His wet, medium-length curls dripping water were dark but not as dark as Demyan’s. However, with his hair wet… he looked just like Demyan. I smiled.

  Why was I smiling? Stop it—now. My right hand had reached my lips at the memory of Demyan, yet all I wanted was to walk closer to the man in front of me. Both feelings were as confusing as they were contradictory. It was crazy—it was amazing. What a floozy. I wondered if the prince felt my agitation.

  I needed fresh air, to calm myself and clear my thoughts. Except, I was already outside, and there was no way to clear anything.

  His gaze locked on me then traveled all the way to my feet. He grinned back at me, and I felt naked with a zillion butterflies threatening to flutter giddily everywhere besides my tummy. The humming and longing suddenly had taken over, ranging into hormonal alienation. I realized my mistake then. In my rush, I was wearing just the blue bathrobe, not even shoes, and I was certain he knew that too. I swallowed hard.

  God, my head said to fight this once again, but even if I could, I did not know how or where to start. Morally, I needed to set him up straight. Gavril had to be set free, even if I was keenly excited like a lusty girl, technicalities aside. Ugh, I was so confused. I was certain that my face was bright, hot, and flushing.

  Even though I knew my attraction to him was dangerous, I was drawn to the prince so much that common sense was left in the box of lost and not found at St. Mary’s.

  The air felt even more charged.

  After a dilatory silence, he reached for me with his hand open
like a high five, as if he was testing the energy between us and, for all I knew, if I was going to electrocute him or not.

  My hand reached the same way for his without my consent. Our hands held there, facing each other but without touching, for a couple moments as we felt this incredible electromagnetic force pulsing between us. All I knew was that I needed to touch him. I wanted to know him. I needed to be in his arms.

  Suddenly, real sparks ignited, and a bright golden light imploded around us the moment he interlaced his fingers with mine, like magnets that could not be apart anymore. His chest was glowing golden, as mine was. He identified mine, too, as his reaction was to reach for his own chest. I gasped.

  The arrow.

  We both blurted into laugher at the oddity. It was the same type of disconnected laugh I had experienced the morning before I left St. Mary’s. But then, like a delirious spell, hearing his rich overtone laughter imbued me, sending those butterflies all the way to my toes and up again.

  The electric anomaly lingered palpably, surging between us stronger than a mere spark. His panther-like gaze was too overwhelming. I swore I felt those butterflies in my gut threatening nervously to disengage from me. There was something between us, something exciting and ignitable that evolved into a forbidden and almost primitive note. Something unknown to me.

  A pair of wings ten feet wide opened behind his back. They glimmered blue like the beautiful signum that ran from his left hand all the way to his shoulder blade like mine, except his was cobalt blue. I gasped at the formidable sight and attempted to step back. I needed my legs to run, but they, too, were in shock. No matter how much I wanted to run away, they didn’t. The night’s soft breeze shifted, bringing a gust of cool air with it, and I shivered. That is when I felt my feet leave the floor. I gasped.

  I was about to scream when he lowered his lips to mine with a sharp thrill. I felt him kissing my frantic panic away. His lips were soft and warm. I just couldn’t believe what was happening. Let’s see, gorgeous creature with wings holding me—slash—gorgeous prince was French-kissing me—slash—did I say kissing—Hello-o? His strong arms held me closer.

  This kiss clouded my mind, taking every part of me. I couldn’t see reason if I wanted to. The unrelenting magnetic pull tossed us inside an epic wave of lust. Instead of ascending, I felt myself reeling, as if I was falling and the stars were spinning, and my entire life was out of control.

  Good Lord, we were actually flying. The feeling was outlandish and alien and scary. Everything seemed way too small down there. What would be the odds the Sisters would see this as a good thing? Uh, zero. Setting aside the morality of it, what would they say to seeing a demigod with wings? I wanted to laugh, and I wanted this to never end.

  My arms found their way to holding him. His touch was addictive. I knew deep down I should stop this, but I couldn’t stop. My body needed him more than air and wasn’t going to stop me. It was beyond compulsive. Every muscle tingled with pleasure, and every nerve inside struck a cord reaching places inside me that woke up. I couldn’t stop a moan.

  My physical need was bigger than life. My hormones were having a welcoming party. I wanted so much more. He felt perfect… Pleasure radiated from both of us. I felt relaxed and wicked at the same time.

  I ran my hands down his back. God, the man had muscles, and I couldn’t stop touching his skin, or kissing him. I just couldn’t stop moving against his body. With each sweep of my palms, his breathing became erratic and hot, so I didn’t stop. We both were groaning and gasping for air at the sensuous exercise. His hands descended to my wriggling hips, pressing my body against his.

  Neither of us had any control.

  He was groaning as we were taking an unscheduled dive, and the air was sucked out of my lungs. The prince regained some flying control, landed gently in the grass beside the pool, and got me to lay with him over the perfectly cut grass. We giggled at the messy landing.

  We were still tangled and kissing, but we stopped when our gaze locked for what seemed like a long time. His eyes were full of adoration and affection. The golden light in our chests was gone. The sobering quiet between us gave the space in our minds time to think.

  I wished it hadn’t. My gaze stopped at the teeny glow left in his chest. The arrow. It all came back to that. We both had acted under a spell. Hello-o, this was so wrong. It couldn’t be real. Our love was not real. I felt heartbroken and at the same time horror-struck. Had I almost given into marriage? Did I say complication?

  “You are so beautiful,” he said. His sweet lusty smile and gaze shifted intently from the nakedness of my body. The blue bathrobe had opened at one point in our flight. I was in so much trouble now. He grinned amusedly at the disruptive set of emotions reflected all over my face. He kissed my nose gently, then my eyes, but before he reached my lips…

  We shouldn’t have kissed. Crap. I was so angry at myself for the lack of control. If truth be told, I wanted to beg him to never stop kissing me and at the same time I wanted to beg him to let me go. But I couldn’t because he held my friend Gavril ransom with a horrible, horrible thing on his neck and his life was in peril. A hot wave of anger rolled into my hand as I slapped his lusty grin off him.

  “A collar!” I screamed at him, now that I had his full attention. His hand lay over his cheek, his gaze in startled shock, and his mind was trying to decide if he was a wuss for allowing me to slap him—a pureblood prince. “A boneheaded collar that can blow off his head if he even swallows?” I closed my bathrobe and crawled out from under him. “If you ever want to even speak to me, you will remove that thing from him this instant and let him free.”

  I walked away from him, noting for the first time where we had landed. We had landed at the entrance of the gardens. I noted heads and drapes moving behind the windows, as my gaze traveled the façade . Every window had eyes for us. A Draugr handed him a towel and held his bathrobe in the air which was just like mine, cobalt blue with gold embroidery of the crown insignia.

  “Ailie,” the prince called me. It was the first time he had used my name. It felt too intimate, and it made me stop. Crap.

  “Yes, Your Royal Highness.” Maybe icicles in my tone would deter him. I hoped.

  “Nicholas,” he said, stepping closer to me, way too close.

  “Whatever,” I mumbled loudly. He grinned amusedly at my reaction.

  “I think you are scared and… perhaps a little confused right now.” He gently brushed one of my hair locks out of my face and continued. “But you know as well as I do that what we have is very special, in more ways than I can fathom to understand. We belong to each other, and you belong with me.”

  I swallowed hard. I really, really didn’t want to hear this. I also had no idea when my face ended up against his strong warm chest. His hands were soothing, going up and down my back.

  “You must understand that the poor bastard is in love with you. Obsessed enough to come here and do anything for you. I will not risk your life when he realizes he cannot have you.” He paused and got closer to me. His closeness felt warm and reassuring as his breath tickled my ear. I was pretty much helpless putty in his arms. “I don’t blame him. You are so beautiful.”

  Was Gavril really in love with me? How could that have happened? He never said anything to me. Things were getting a little complicated. Crap.

  “His collar is my only insurance I have that you will give me a fair chance to win your heart. Do you understand?”

  I swallowed hard at the implication.

  He pushed me slightly away from him to say his next words. “I will grant him his freedom as my wedding present to you.”

  So it was marriage or let the prince treat Gavril like a dog. Dogs probably got better treatment. I really wasn’t digging the “you are so beautiful” speech anymore. Gavril’s life depended on me—he was counting on me.

  “Then we will take a full year in each other’s arms, day and night, and travel anywhere you want to see and do anything your heart desires. It wil
l be our honeymoon—alone.” His gaze traveled toward the prying eyes of the palace inside those windows. Crap. Everyone had seen us making out. I wished the earth would open under my feet. “I will let you go—this time. Otherwise we won’t be able to stop ourselves. You must be exhausted, and we must attend Prince Émil’s funeral tomorrow morning.” He kissed my forehead gently and left my side. Crap. Tomorrow was going to be a very long day.

  “Sleep well, my princess,” he said, leaving me standing alone with a feeling of emptiness that I hated.

  I turned to see the circus guards by the French doors snap their heads in a different direction, pretending they were not watching me. I charged by them toward my gold gilded cage, angry at myself.

  It was not real. Not. Real. I repeated to myself.

  God, what had I gotten myself into? I reached the top floor. Reginald stood next to the circus guards bowing outside the queen’s chambers as they opened the double doors to my room. I stopped for a quick word with him.

  “I want you to take a minute to think about that push button in your smartphone. If you ever have an attack of twitchy finger, I will make sure your long, immortal life becomes a living hell. Now, I want you to loosen my friends collar, so he can breathe easy. Your job description is to make sure I am happy—think about that too.” I patted his shoulder.

  He swallowed hard and nodded back at me.

  Inside, the maids and Draugr waited for me. Both girls looked at me with apprehension. They probably thought I had run to complain about them to the prince, or worse, they thought they would be fired for letting me outside this room in just a bathrobe. The thing was I couldn’t deal with anything more.

  “Enit, I am tired. I am going to rest. Everyone out. NOW,” I shouted, not even knowing if Enit was there. I watched as the doors opened, and the maids bowed before leaving the chamber. I blew air from deep in my lungs when the doors closed.

  “They are gone. Sleep tight,” Enit said, pulling a nightgown that looked more like a bridal gown encrusted with pearls and small stones over me.