Princess of Shadows (Obsidian Queen Book 2)

by Shannon Lynn Cook

  “I’m not seeing anyone. I’m taking a break.”

  “A break?” His hand moves to the back of his neck. “A break from what?”

  “Men.”

  He cocks his head to the side, not believing me. “So you’re not flitting between Rafe and Jonathan to make me jealous?”

  A laugh bubbles from my chest, warming me. I let it out, reveling in the feel of…happiness.

  Weird.

  I had no idea what a burden this tension between us was, but now that we’re making amends, it’s lifting, making me feel about a hundred times lighter.

  “I take it that’s a no,” he says wryly.

  “Have you always been this narcissistic?”

  “Pretty much,” he deadpans.

  “Oh, right. It’s a Wolf thing.” I grin so he knows the jab is a friendly one.

  After several moments, he steps forward, extending his hand as if he expects me to shake it.

  “What is that?” I eye him. “What are you doing?”

  “My name’s Gray.”

  “Um…yeah. I know.” I give him a weird look.

  Undaunted, he steps closer, hand still stretched toward me. “We’re starting over. My name is Gray.”

  What a strange olive branch.

  Slowly, I step forward. “Madeline.”

  He gives my hand a firm, friendly shake. “Welcome to my team, Madeline.” He meets my eyes, smiling. “We’re happy to have you.”

  And…oh. The words hit me right in the heart, even make my eyes sting a little.

  Refusing to get all emotional about something so stupid, I step back. “Do you mean that?”

  “I do.”

  I wonder if he’d feel the same way if he knew I was his sworn enemy, if he knew I could command the creatures of shadows, open the thresholds, make his life an honest-to-goodness living hell.

  “We have a few rules,” he says.

  I raise an eyebrow. “Yes, I’m aware. No persuasion or charisma. No bunny in a hat tricks.”

  “No dating members of the team. We’re a family. We respect each other. As I well know, romantic affairs cause everything from tension to turmoil, and I don’t want that for us.”

  He’s making the rule for me, to put me at ease—to reassure me that he’ll treat me just like one of the guys and won’t pursue me again.

  Oddly enough, it kind of works.

  “Thank you, Gray,” I whisper. “Truly.”

  He nods. “Now get out there and catch the bad guy.”

  “Or bad gal?” I smirk. “I’ll do my best.”

  I start to leave, but Gray calls my name, making me look back. “Hmmm?”

  “Watch Jonathan’s back, all right? Make sure he doesn’t get in too far over his head with all this.”

  “Awww.” I dramatically bring a fist to my chest as if overwhelmed by emotion. “It’s sweet you’re worried about him.”

  The Wolf shakes his head, trying not to smile, and points at the door, dismissing me.

  “You do realize this is my room, right?” I tease.

  “Get to work, princess.”

  ***

  “What did he want?” Rafe asks when I meet him at the back of the mansion.

  I glance at my knight as we make our way to the forest. Hopefully no one will see us together. I’m not sure what kind of scandal there will be if I get caught sneaking into the woods with “the help.”

  “Lots of things.” I stare ahead, into the shadows. “Firstly, he questioned my recent promiscuous behavior.”

  Rafe turns to me, startled. “Promiscuous?”

  I shake my head, smiling to myself. “He thought I was using you and Jonathan to purposely taunt him—to get back at him. Though that’s ridiculous. After all, he really didn’t do anything. I decided to step back.”

  Rafe makes a scoffing noise, this one rather dark. I turn my head, meeting my knight’s eyes. “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “That was not a nothing sort of snort.”

  He walks next to me, tall and handsome, dark hair short and tamed, eyes on the forest. “I’d just like to think that if you were using me to get back at Gray, we’d do a more convincing job of it.”

  My stomach clenches, and I stop at the edge of the woods, just far enough into the trees we shouldn’t be visible from the house.

  What was that? And what did it mean?

  Immediately, my mind travels to the storage closet. It was a mistake—we both agreed on it. And yet…

  I eye him. “If I did a better job of it, it wouldn’t be because of Gray.”

  “Don’t,” Rafe says abruptly, his voice growing darker as he turns toward me. “Don’t say things like that.”

  “Why?” I’m exhausted of the game our magic is playing. Sometimes, I just want to give in.

  “Because we can’t.”

  I cross my arms, tilting my head to the side, more curious than anything. “Do you want me, Rafe? Even a little bit?”

  His nostrils flare. “No.”

  He’s as convincing a liar as I am.

  “So you don’t feel it?” I make him meet my eyes. “This pull? This desperation to be close?”

  With a clenched jaw, he shakes his head.

  “Lucky you.” I look away, irritated.

  “It’s the magic,” he says finally. “It’s intoxicating. But you don’t feel that way about me, Madeline. It just wants you to think you do.”

  And I know that—I do. But when I’m with him it’s all-consuming. And I think it’s getting worse.

  I nudge him with my elbow as we continue through the brush. “You called me Madeline.”

  He smiles. “Sorry about that, Lexie. Won’t happen again.”

  I glance at him, feeling wicked. “Oh, look at that. He jokes. What’s it been? Three months?”

  The knight chuckles under his breath, making me feel a little better. The tension is more bearable now.

  With my eyes on the brush, I reluctantly say, “I need to ask you something.”

  There’s a short pause before Rafe finally makes a noise of agreement.

  “In history, did Obsidian Queens ever marry?”

  “Obviously. Otherwise, you wouldn’t exist.”

  I flash him an amused smile. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe there have been children born out of wedlock before.”

  The trees and brush grow thicker, and fallen leaves and twigs snap and shift under our feet. There’s a crisp quality to the air, something that makes the forest feel fresh, soothing. Everything is falling asleep for the impending winter.

  “They married,” Rafe answers. “It was usually a political betrothal, similar to the arrangements made by humans in royal families.”

  “But how? How did they stay away from their knights?”

  I’m admitting more than I want to, but it’s not like he doesn’t already know.

  He pulls me back with a hand on my arm. “Do you want the truth?”

  “The truth? No,” I scoff lightly. “I want you to lie.”

  Rafe smirks as he holds up a scrawny, low-hanging limb so I can pass. “Obsidian knights were noble. They stepped aside, protected without letting feelings interfere.”

  I peer at him as I duck under the branch. “Is that the lie or the truth?”

  “That’s the lie.”

  “Then what’s the truth?” I come to a stop in the middle of the deer trail.

  “The truth is more complicated.” Rafe waits for me to look over, and his gaze locks on mine when I finally comply. “I’m afraid it most often involved clandestine meetings, dark bedrooms, and forbidden unions.”

  My knees weaken, but I keep my balance. His words bring forth a few interesting mental pictures that I definitely need to block.

  “And do you know what happened each time?” he asks.

  The scent of evergreens and fallen leaves surrounds us, and the foliage protects us from prying eyes.

  “What?” I say, wondering if I want to know.

 
; “The queens who entered into relationships with their knights gave too much of themselves, allowed the men too much of their power. It drove the knights mad, and they took control—murdered hundreds, forced themselves onto the throne, usually ended up killing their beloved queens in fits of ire or jealousy. Each time the unions created madness that took hundreds of years to repair.”

  “That’s why the relationship is forbidden,” I respond dumbly.

  He steps closer, still not touching me. “Can you guess the moral of the story?”

  “Don’t be evil?”

  “You can have all of me,” he says, ignoring me, “but I can’t be trusted with any of you—so don’t tempt me.”

  I blink at him. “Do you think any of that is going to happen to us?”

  “No.” He takes several steps back. “I won’t let it. We will never link our magic—it's too dangerous.”

  “And if I were to kiss you, say right now, our magic would link?”

  He watches me, his dark blue gaze locked on mine. I can feel the answer—my magic is begging to merge with his.

  After a moment, I look away, unable to hold his gaze any longer, and then lightly say, “Tell me the truth. Are you using me for my power? Is that why you’re actually shadowing me?”

  “Oh, Lexie.” A grim smile spreads across his face. “If I were using you, rest assured I wouldn’t be keeping my distance.”

  Due to the content of this fun, impromptu history lesson, those words shouldn’t make my stomach clench. But they do.

  Rafe makes to walk away, but I pull the knight back with a hand on his shoulder. “Do you think I’m foolish? For not opening the thresholds?” Then I finally admit a thought that’s been heavy on my mind since that madman Curtis revealed my magic. “Sometimes I wonder if people—our people—on the other side are suffering. Like maybe I’m supposed to save them from the darkness we created and locked on that side.”

  Big words, little Fox.

  Rafe’s eyes search mine. “Do you think you’re foolish?”

  “I don’t know,” I whisper. “I don’t want to release a tsunami of evil here. Obviously. But what if there’s a greater purpose? What if I’m supposed to do something? Something only I can do?”

  A hint of a wicked smile plays at Rafe’s lips. “I don’t see a lightning bolt on your forehead. No lightsaber thrust into your hand. No ring in your pocket you’re destined to destroy.”

  I let out a soft laugh, grateful. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”

  “I don’t know.”

  At least he’s honest. Which is ironic, considering he’s a Fox.

  After a moment, I shake my head, stepping forward. “Last night’s lack of sleep is making me fanciful.”

  Rafe never answers. He follows, protecting my back, watching out for me as usual.

  “All right,” I call, setting my hands on my hips, stopping in what I hope is a safe spot. “Out with you.”

  One by one, tiny winged creatures flit from the bushes, hovering in front of me. With their diminutive size, gossamer wings, and ethereal appearance, humans would probably call the creatures fairies. But they’re shrouded in darkness, with golden eyes like the rest of their shadow kin.

  As always, they eye Rafe, suspicious of his presence. A few hiss, sounding much like Charles when he goes on a car trip.

  “What are they?” I ask the knight, at a loss.

  He gives me a sideways look. “Fairies.”

  Well, what do you know—I guess we call them fairies too.

  More and more reveal themselves until we’re nearly surrounded by them. Their wings move the air, creating a sound like a swarm of angry bees.

  The creatures are unsettling, especially with the way they dart back and forth, moving too quickly to track.

  “Leave as soon as it grows dark,” I command, growing bored of the same old line. “Back to your homes. Harm no one on your way.”

  They involuntarily bow as the magic washes over them, and then they disappear into the trees and bushes, hiding until they can fly away undetected.

  I stand here for several moments, making sure they are out of sight.

  “This must stop,” I say to Rafe as we turn back the way we came, returning to the mansion. “Someone is going to see them if they just keep showing up like this.”

  “If only they’d call first,” he says, flashing me a smirk that makes my pulse jump.

  Before I can respond, he sets his hand on my arm, drawing me back. His eyes are focused on something in the garden on the other side of the trees. I follow his gaze, wondering what’s caught his attention, half worried some poor fool is going to take our same path and be carried away by the pint-sized demon fairies.

  I frown when I take in the scene in front of me. Jonathan stands halfway between the woods and the mansion, in the shade of a gazebo by a creek that I’m ninety-nine percent sure is man-made. Jenna the Storm-creating Heron is with him. She laughs at something he says, leaning forward to absently press her hand against his arm as if she just can’t help herself.

  Which is just absurd because Jonathan isn’t that funny. And what is with all these women fawning all over the Griffon?

  I narrow my eyes at the pair, glad to be hidden in the forest. My magic swells as it tries to cloak me, just like it always does when my emotions run a little higher than usual.

  “What’s this?” Rafe says, looking at me instead of the couple in front of us. “I’d almost think you like him.”

  I turn to the Fox. He wears a strange expression, curious perhaps. Maybe even a little jealous—but that’s likely the magic talking.

  “Don’t be absurd. It’s Jonathan.”

  The Griffon’s not part of the equation, and he never has been. Gray, Rafe—those are the two I have to guard my heart against. Not Jonathan. He’s just…

  He’s just Jonathan.

  And let’s be honest. Even if I did feel a teeny, tiny tug toward him—which I don’t—he didn’t kiss me back.

  There’s nothing more foolish than spending your time pining after a man who doesn’t want you.

  “There’s just something about that woman that rubs me the wrong way,” I tell Rafe, studying the pretty Heron. “And considering she’s the only Aparian Jonathan’s seen since we’ve been here, she very well might be the one behind the death and disappearances.”

  Unless it’s Olivia, though I can’t back that theory up.

  “I guess we’ll just have to see if she tries to seduce him,” Rafe answers.

  Right.

  But what about Rafe and me? Right now, we’re stuck in the forest, with a swarm of seriously creepy evil fairies at our backs.

  “We can help things along,” Rafe says. “If you want.”

  I look at my knight, slightly unsettled by his offhanded tone. “How?”

  He turns to me. “Give me your boot.”

  “My…boot?”

  He makes an impatient “gimme” motion with his hand, much like a demanding toddler. Since he seems adamant, I set my hand on his shoulder and do as he asks.

  “Do you remember when you said you wanted that new pair you saw in the magazine?” he asks as he turns the boot over, clasping the three-inch heel. “The one you were looking at when we were sitting in your living room a few weeks ago?”

  Way to narrow it down. That’s all we’ve done for the last three months. He’s watched games, and I’ve flipped through countless magazines, showing him dozens of shoes. And dresses. Scarves. Earrings. Makeup—

  “What are you doing?” I hiss as Rafe takes my three-hundred-dollar, brown suede, goes-with-everything, knee-high boot, and snaps the heel off. “Rafe!”

  “I’ll buy you the new pair.” Ever so casually, he tosses the heel into the bushes behind him as I hyperventilate.

  I fist my hand in his shirt, yanking him toward me. “What is wrong with you?”

  He purses his lips, looking very much like he’s trying not to laugh—which is wise because the knight’s only one stupi
d move away from being punched. Then, as if he can’t help himself, he feels the need to point out, “You didn’t even get this upset when you received Finn’s wedding invitation.”

  “You’re walking a thin line, knight.”

  My magic hits me all of a sudden, magnetized to his. I realize how close we are. His breath is on my lips—soft, warm, tantalizing.

  Rafe must feel it too because his expression grows darker. He shifts closer. “A thin line? And just what will you do if I cross that line? Do you think you can take me?”

  And the strangest thing happens. My magic screams at me to close the distance between us—leap into his arms, wrap my legs around his waist, kiss him with wild, passionate abandon.

  But…no. My head won’t have it.

  And it’s not because we could create mass pandemonium. Nope. It’s because he snapped the bloody heel clean off my favorite boot.

  I step back, practically panting. “Why did you murder my shoe?”

  Rafe looks just as rattled as me. “You can’t murder something that isn’t alive.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s already lifeless—”

  “No,” I interrupt, wondering if my elemental magic is strong enough to call up a fireball.

  Scratch that. I’d probably end up burning down the forest.

  “Why did you rip the heel off my boot?” I clarify.

  As if remembering his purpose, Rafe hands me back the mutilated shoe. “Put this on.”

  “It’s worthless now.”

  Still flustered, he steps close—too close—and very carefully says, “You have three seconds to put on that ridiculous boot, or I swear I will push you against the closest tree and kiss you to oblivion and back.”

  Do I picture it? Yes, I do—twigs jabbing into my back and all. But do I debate it?

  Yep, I do that too.

  My mouth goes suspiciously dry as I take the boot from his hand and slip it onto my foot. “Happy?”

  He meets my gaze, and I can see the want there. The desire. The let’s-destroy-the-world-now-and-think-about-the-consequences-later glint in his eyes.

  “Not especially,” he finally answers.

  We stare at each other for the longest time, and I end up shaking my head. “This is insane.”

  Rafe exhales, stretching his neck. “It is.”

  “I don’t even like you.”