Queen of Fire

by K. V. Adair

  I didn’t move. I wasn’t even sure I breathed. I just waited, my hands against the back of his head.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  I had no idea what he was apologizing for. I was about to say he hadn’t done anything wrong, but that wasn’t the truth.

  “Why?” I asked, not sure if I was asking why he was apologizing or why he’d lied.

  “I shouldn’t have pushed you away. I thought…it seemed like the right—the only—thing I could do to protect you.”

  The sweet, fruity smell of wine wafted into my nose. I hadn’t noticed it before. I pulled my head back so I could look him in the eye.

  “Why?” I asked again, not satisfied with his half-answer.

  He moved back, resting on his butt and folding his legs across. “He’d have used me to get to you. I thought if he believed you were nothing but a charge, a duty to me, he wouldn’t have forced me to…”

  “Force you? To do what? How could he even force you if you were disowned?”

  He pressed his lips together in a thin line and then shook his head. “It’s complicated.”

  I folded my arms across my chest. “Everything is complicated with you. How hard is it to just tell me the truth?”

  “I’m so used to keeping things from you, opening up is foreign to me.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed. He still looked hurt and not from my words. Pushing him right then would be cruel. I swallowed my frustration and forced my lips into a soft smile.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  He tilted his head to the side and his forehead scrunched. “For what?”

  “If I hadn’t gone to see Bryna, you wouldn’t have had to…to…you know.”

  “Murder a good chunk of my former family?” There was bitterness in his voice.

  “Yeah. That.”

  He gave me a crooked smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve done worse for you.”

  “Really? I’m coming up blank.”

  He shrugged. “Their deaths are no great loss. Besides, it was my fault you were attacked in the first place.”

  I gripped his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin.

  “Listen to me very closely, Aidan Marshall, which I guess isn’t really your last name. What is your last name? Do Fae have last names? How do you not get confused if two people share a name? Does it go: hey, blue shirt Aidan, can you tell red shirt Aidan he’s late for the meeting?”

  Aidan chuckled. “That got away from you.”

  I tightened my grip. “It wasn’t your fault.”

  “You don’t know that. You don’t even know what happened.”

  “Then tell me. What could you have possibly done that led to…”

  My throat constricted as memories tried to beat down my wall. I reinforced it with a few more bricks before refocusing on my friend.

  “I’m waiting,” I said when he didn’t respond.

  His eyes were wide, and he paled. “What did you just do?” he asked in an awed whisper.

  “What do you mean? I didn’t do anything.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, you did. I felt it. Your magic, I mean. Which itself is strange, but I have no doubt that’s exactly what it was.”

  Every time he opened his mouth, I had at least two more questions I needed answers to. At this rate, I would never know everything.

  “I promise you I didn’t do anything. It couldn’t have been magic. It doesn’t listen to me.”

  He gave me a quizzical look. “It doesn’t listen to you? Your magic is a part of you, under your control.”

  I scoffed. “Yeah, about that. I have no control, Aidan. Remember when Eoin cut my cheek? The magic healed it on its own and—”

  “Wait. Eoin cut you? What the fuck?”

  “Don’t you—” I remembered he hadn’t been there. “Oh, yeah. You’d ran away again before that happened.”

  He flinched at the sharpness in my words. “I was making things worse.”

  “Anyway, I don’t control it. It just does its thing when I need it to. Usually. I think when I’m in danger or hurt.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “That’s not how magic works, M. Once you access it, you have control. Magic isn’t something to be manipulated. It is a part of you; it is you.”

  Feoras had said something similar. I still thought they were both wrong.

  “Fine. It’s all under my control, and I told you I didn’t do anything magic-like.”

  “Then what did you do? You weren’t present anymore, M. It’s like you disappeared into yourself.”

  “Oh. I was just reinforcing my walls to keep the bad shit out.”

  He chewed his bottom lip but didn’t say anything. He studied me like I was an alien on display at an alien zoo. I didn’t like it.

  “Can we get back to the part where everything is your fault?” I interrupted his (focus?)

  “My father had spoken to your brother before he was killed about renewing the alliance between our families. Liam discarded Bryna in favor of Niamh, which was incredibly stupid, but I digress. He wanted to marry one of his to you, namely me.”

  I frowned, and my stomach did a sort of half summersault half lurch that made me feel like throwing up. “I thought you were disowned.”

  “I was—am. He would have restored me if Liam had agreed.”

  “But Liam didn’t.”

  “He claims Liam did, but I know he’s lying.”

  “How? While I’m not very pleased about being married off without a say, it’s apparently how things work around here.”

  “I know your brother. He said no.”

  I didn’t want to argue, and the vehemence in his voice said not to. “I’m still not sure how you’re at fault for what happened.”

  “Like I said, he’s claiming Liam gave his blessing. He planned on making some grand announcement in front of the court and expected me to go along with it.”

  “And I’d have no say?”

  He swallowed and wouldn’t look me in the eye. “Would you have said no?”

  I shifted, uncomfortable. Apparently, I hadn’t been as subtle with my crush over the years as I’d thought. But that had faded a long time ago. Aidan was more like a brother than anything now.

  You lie about as well as he does.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. My options are pretty limited. Though, Feoras is mighty pretty.”

  Aidan grunted. “Looks can be deceiving.”

  “Oh, come on. At least counter my words with something less cliche. I’m insulted.”

  “Feoras has a reputation.”

  I feigned ignorance. “That’s vague. Everyone has a reputation.”

  “He’s a slut. Do I really need to spell it out?”

  I laughed. It sounded hollow. We were dancing around what we really needed to talk about, but I wasn’t ready to see him break down. He was on the brink, I could read it in his body, and I needed him whole.

  In this world, this place, I just plain needed him. Having him run away again would hurt too much.

  “So, he’s got a bad reputation. Like I said, my choices are limited.”

  “I’m not a choice,” Aidan said, his voice low, almost vicious. There was no humor in it.

  “I was joking,” I said softly. “Chill.”

  Aidan closed his hands into fists and took a long, slow breath in and then out. “I’m not kidding, M. I’ll leave if you try to force me.”

  My body heat rose. I knew my face was red, both from embarrassment and anger. “Force you? Are you kidding me? Don’t flatter yourself.”

  His shoulders sagged and a defeated look crossed his face.

  He was back to the puppy dog. My stomach twisted, still remembering his cruel words. I began to suspect the wounded animal look was only a ploy. Distract me. Play on my sympathies.

  “I’m sorry. I’m being an ass,” he said.

  “Damn right you are. And presumptuous.”

  “Ouch,” he said with a small smile. “That hurts my feelings.”

  I
scoffed again. “Oh, so you can be disgusted at the thought of being stuck with me for life, but heaven forbid I find it distasteful.”

  “First, I never said I was disgusted. Second, you’re assuming it’s about you at all. Third, I don’t have to marry you to be stuck with you for life. And finally, there is no heaven.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “What?”

  “Pretty much from the dawn of time, people have had theories and beliefs that differed, often drastically. And they always thought their belief was the right one, and everyone else was wrong. Things haven’t changed. So how do you know heaven doesn’t exist? Maybe you’re the one who is wrong.”

  He sighed and shook his head. “When did you get all religious on me?”

  “I’m not. I just think you’re arrogant.”

  He put his hand on his chest and faked looking offending. “Ouch again. You continue to wound me.”

  “Okay, back to the whole ‘it’s my fault’ bullshit. You refused to play his game. Still not seeing how you’re responsible for their actions.”

  “I tried so hard, M. I really did, but he saw through me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You didn’t question the utter stupidity of my families’ plan? What were they going to do? Hide you until you were pregnant? And even then, spawn or no, they’d lose their heads.”

  “Spawn? Really? And, honestly, I didn’t really think about it. I don’t want to think about it.”

  Aidan reached out and cupped one side of my face. I leaned into his palm. He really did have me wrapped around his fingers.

  “It’s about me. He thought—thinks—hurting you, breaking you, would override my no. That I would agree to protect you.”

  “But you’re not changing your mind.” I tried to say the words as if they weren’t like knifes in my gut, but instead they came out pitiful and whiny.

  He ran his thumb across my lips, still cupping my cheek. A slight breeze fluttered my hair. I didn’t know which was the reason a chill ran down my spine.

  Magical energy came off him in waves.

  His eyes drifted down to where his thumb still caressed my lower lip. His breathing quickened. His body tensed. The air around us heated to a balmy degree.

  Sweat beaded on my brow. I didn’t dare move. I stayed still, like a deer about to get ran over by a truck, waiting for impact.

  He pulled away suddenly and scurried off the bed. He hurried to the door and had reached the handle before I could speak.

  “I don’t understand you, Aidan,” I whispered.

  He looked over, his hand grasping the knob. “There’s nothing to understand, Morgan.”

  With that, he opened the door, stepped out, and slammed it behind him. The unexpected force made me jump and my heart race.

  The last time he’d called me Morgan I was eleven. It was right after he’d walked in on my punishment for being caught sneaking food. Even now I could feel the bite of the belt, the raised welts on my skin, the ache in my bones, as the tenth lash sliced my back.

  One for every year I’d lived. One more and it would be over.

  But the eleventh hit had never touched me.

  I still heard their screams in my dreams. Those were the good ones.

  He’d held me, rocking me in his arms, as he apologized over and over for not knowing sooner.

  It had been the first time I’d fully felt safe.

  He had pulled away and looked me in the eye. “Morgan, I vow here and now to never leave you to fight the evils in this world alone. I will shield you with my body, with my words, with my life if necessary, from any who would try to harm you. I will be your sword against those who hurt you. I swear, Morgan, by blood, to never, ever abandon you.”

  We’d ran, putting as much distance between us and their bodies as we could. We hid, and he kept his vow.

  And even now by blood he kept his promise.

  But I’d been M from that day forward. And the aloof boy who kept his distance, who would barely speak two words to me, became my closest, dearest friend. I’d been loved for the first time I could remember.

  And now, I was Morgan again. Even the loss of my brother hadn’t made me feel as empty as I felt now.

  Morgan has more problems than a new Fae queen should ever have. Can she maintain some semblance of control of her own life? How will she choose not just one, but four consorts, especially when her heart already belongs to another? And who the hell killed her brother?

  Queen of Ice, book two in Her Fae Princes on Amazon

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