by A. K. Koonce
Just great.
“Can you hand me that towel?” The smile I plaster on my face and his eyes narrow on me. He’s suspicious of my kindness.
Some things never change.
I point to the towel. He glances down at said towel. He lounges a little more. I point again. He glances.
“Please. The towel.”
Another quiet glance.
Nothing. He does nothing.
He wants to see me in a weak state. He wants to toy with me.
I close my eyes slowly and exhale a sigh instead of saying the damn word one more time.
The warm water glides over my body, raining down on the bubbles below as I stand. It’s like an announcement. This. This is what gets his attention, finally.
Maybe I should make all my requests completely nude from now on. That’s apparently how you get things done.
Despite my frustrations and my confidence, my foot slides the moment I touch the floor. And he’s striding toward me like a knight ready to save the day.
Or kill the princess. Both are plausible.
I slash my hand out fast with a stream of white magic. It halts him in place while I fumble around until I right my footing. I pass the motionless shifter, taking my fluffy towel and wrapping myself up nicely and then facing him again. I release my hold on the shifter.
“Are we going to play nice from now on?” I ask with a tip of my chin.
He ambushes me.
I fully believe this dragon wants to kill me. He doesn’t have Rime’s fond memories of us, that slow building relationship we somehow found ourselves in.
That part of this beast isn’t here. And I’m just someone in his way.
His big palms grip my hips, and I snap my magic right back into place before he can drive me to the floor. His rigid body is flexed, poised, and ready but unmoving once again.
“Things are so much better for us if you just play nice, Rime.” I slip out of his grasp and start to brush out my hair with an ivory comb. A warped mirror lined in a marble frame reflects my image in the foggy surface. I glance back at him, and my heartbeat dips at the thought crosses my mind.
I release him. He stumbles without my body in front of him. A scuffing sound follows when he pivots and rushes me for a third time.
A final time.
Strong hands clasp over my hips from behind, and just when his chest meets my back, I halt him in place. From this angle, the aggression in his eyes can’t be seen. He appears affectionate, his blond hair skimming my shoulder like he might kiss there tenderly. The palms spread wide over my hips might seem to be a caress if a stranger saw the two of us just as we are. I study us in the distorted reflection: the sweet shifter and his loving mate.
What a twisted perspective this mirror shows us as this morning.
I can’t help but want to cling to that delusion for a little bit longer.
I lower the comb and slide my fingers between his, settling my head back to rest against his chest. He’s warm and strong. Everything in the world, outside of this bathroom, feels obsolete. Us. That’s what’s important.
Someday, we’ll be us again. We’ll be normal and in love and so fucking happy it’ll make us sick.
Someday.
I slide my fingers down his, lingering against his skin for just a second longer before I slip out of his embrace entirely. The sound of my footsteps is soft and silent when I walk away from him. The click of the door as I shut it on him sounds monumental.
Four
A Mother’s Love
“You look perfect this morning, darling.” Ellise’s big green eyes gleam in the morning sunlight, and she takes in the clean dress with close scrutiny.
The white gown has a bodice that hugs my chest. The material is thicker than I’m used to, and the heaviness of it weighs on me as the long hem of it skims across the throne room floor.
Wide double doors are directly in front of us, and the room is dim and empty for the most part, emphasizing the two chairs in the center of the space.
“Come sit down. Our guests will be arriving soon.” She gestures to the enormous throne seat at her side. Onyx gemstones shine against the headrest, and the sight of them causes me twirl the ring on my finger with the memory of the men who gave it to me.
She wants me to sit on a throne.
Nothing in my entire life has ever felt as suspicious as that chair.
I do as I’m told. The hard metal of the throne forces my already perfect posture, and I’m not cut out for this much regality. It’s just not as glamorous as you’d think.
Ellise places her delicate hands neatly in her lap. I mimic her, but it feels weird holding my own hand. She picked the wrong mage. I can’t even hold my own hand correctly, it seems.
Rime stands stiffly at my side, and it does comfort me that he’s here. The three of us are up on a sort of platform that looks out at the faintly lit room. From here the large stones of the floor are patterned in a decorative style that the common eye wouldn’t even notice at ground level. It seems like a waste of Attikan funds, but I’m not going to mention it.
There are no windows in this area. Everything is muted into gray and black tones with only a few torches here and there to flicker light into the space. The lack of windows is an obvious attempt to keep us warm, but it gives off a depressing and ominous vibe that I feel deep in my bones.
It’s too dark.
The double doors in front of us part, spreading white light across the floor that chases out all that darkness. It blinds me for several seconds. And then I’m staring down on two small men, flanked by demons. Ellise’s demons.
“Welcome,” she says with a purely serene smile. She lets her voice ring out for a moment before speaking again. “I do hope you had safe travels through my kingdom, my loves.”
The doors close. Then I realize it’s King Barron and Prince Linden.
The struck look that slaps across their faces seems to be exactly what she was hoping for.
It only improves when the two of them glance my way and blazing hate flashes through Barron’s narrowed eyes.
“I came for a mage. I didn’t expect two of the nasty creatures.”
Creatures. In all my years of taming beasts, I’ve never been in their category.
Until now.
“What do you think you’re doing, Ellise?” Barron’s voice is the same belittling sound that I’ve always heard from him, but the seething disgust is something new.
Ish.
Through all of the king’s glaring hate, he never once turns to check on his son who’s seeing his mother for the first time in decades.
But I do. And so does Ellise.
“Linden.” The softness of her voice lulls through the room, and it almost reflects the sweet way she’s gazing down on him.
Linden’s lips part. He looks both in awe and in horror at his mother. He doesn’t speak. He doesn’t rush to her. He’s careful. He’s surprisingly composed at the moment. The deep green of his eyes shifts from Ellise to me, to the room around us.
He seems to be trying to make sense of all this.
And failing.
“Where is Uncle Chalem?” Distrust, a knowing sort of distrust is in Linden’s gaze as he looks up at his mother.
“Come here, Linden.” Ellise stands, and with her palms splayed in a peaceful way, she gestures for him to come to her.
The prince’s attention shifts over his mother from the ends of her long white gown to the tips of her sharply pointed crown.
She won’t admit what she’s done here. She doesn’t have to. It’s very clear what Ellise has done.
“She’s not real, my boy. Your friend, your beloved Arlow, is playing tricks on you. That’s what mages do.”
Barron’s lips curl as if he might spit at us, but Linden doesn’t even seem to have heard him.
“Mom?” The strength he holds in saying her name and keeping his composure is impressive. He isn’t gasping or sobbing. He’s…defensive in a way. He appears to know
without a doubt that she’s real. And he isn’t happy about it.
“I wanted to go to you every day. I missed you more than I missed my freedom,” Ellise whispers with tears glinting in her big beautiful eyes.
Oh, she’s good.
“Arlow brought you back to me. She led you back to me.”
Oh…shit.
Linden shifts his cautious gaze to me, pinning me in place with his skepticism.
It’s now or never.
Make or break me, I might die right now, either from the king’s wrath or the queen’s, I’m not even sure.
The weight of my dress pulls at my body the moment I stand. Linden watches my every move. A clicking sound announces my each step I take down the few stairs, and then I’m there. Right in front of the one man I’ve avoided showing affection to for years.
All that platonic effort I put into our relationship is about to come crashing down.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders, bringing him to me until my face is hidden in the crook of his neck, his beard skimming my cheek and reminding me of someone else entirely.
The thought of Chaos is enough to crack my heart wide open and show the room the mess of love I hide inside.
But he doesn’t let that happen. It takes a few hesitant seconds, but his palms eventually press low on my back. It’s the warmest embrace that I’ve missed so much. I can pretend all I want but I have missed being held. I’ve missed the protectiveness that falls across my body when a man holds me to him like he’ll take care of every fucked-up thing I’ve shoved into my life.
Good fucking luck.
“I’m so happy you’re here.” My voice is barely a breath of sound, but his arms tighten around me.
“You’re all right.”
His voice rumbles against my chest, and I close my eyes and imagine the calming comfort another strong man always brought to me.
“Arlow, leave us, darling. My dear husband and I have so much catching up to do.” Ellise looks to me, and I tilt my head up from Linden’s shoulder just long enough to see her gesture to her son with wide, hinting eyes.
I tangle my fingers in Linden’s and when I pull on his hand, he follows me like I’m the only person he’s ever cared about his life.
Just like she wanted.
Just like I wanted.
And the plotting thickens.
Five
Hope
The door to the dining room makes a heavy sweeping sound as Linden presses it closed behind us.
“Are you all right? Is she my mother? What the hell happened to your friend out there? What the fuck is going on, Arlow?” Linden’s voice raises higher and higher with every word he says until he’s almost shaking where he stands.
He’d released my hand the moment the door closed behind us, and now I know he was pretending just as much as I was. Huh. I didn’t think the prince had it in him to be on my level of awfulness.
It’s…weird. Really weird.
“I’m fine. That was definitely your mother. She’s a bit different than you might have remembered. Um, she caged Rime with an enchanted device that’s just…it’s destroyed his shining personality. Don’t look to him for enthralling small talk. And yeah, your mom wants to take your kingdom. Just like she took this one. That pretty much sums up what I’ve been up to. How about you? Anything new?” I blink at him and I’m clinging to sarcasm but I really just want to scream until my voice gives out.
His fingers push firmly over his beard, his eyes fixed on a spot on the wall while he paces long strides back and forth. Until the door opens on silent hinges.
And a shifter slinks in, pressing his back to the door, his gaze challenging as he stares hard at Linden.
I should really stop provoking Rime’s dragon. It looks like he’s going to rip Linden to shreds just for hugging me.
“Rime, is it?” Linden nods to the shifter.
Rime growls. The two of them watch each other for a moment, Linden becoming a bit more confused the longer the silence drags on.
“He’s more of a lover than a talker.” I shrug with a smile.
The prince arches a brow and finally glances away. “My mother did that?”
I nod.
“My father always hated her. Said she was crazy and cruel.” His attention slips to Rime once more before coming back to me. “I just thought he was bitter. I thought he…killed her and wanted me to hate her as much as he did.”
“I need your help, Linden.” I take a step closer to him but I’m careful to keep a nice Rime-approved distance between the two of us.
“Arlow, my father is dangerous. I think you should stay here. Not here, here.” He motions to the room. He pauses to really look at me. Something in him shines in his gaze. “Your mother followed us relentlessly into Minden. She’s worried about you. I’m worried about you. You and Rime should travel farther north. Live a life there. A quiet, happy life with your friends.”
My friends. Linden is my friend. Agatha is my friend. All the people from here to the coast, they’re my friends and family. And none of them will survive a future built by Ellise.
“I need you to get word to a mage in Valencia.”
“A mage? Are you out of your mind? Stop. Stop associating yourself with mages. My father has an army of demons. Those demons’ number one priority is to destroy your kind.”
Demon magic. It’s stronger than mage magic, immensely stronger. The amount of damage a demon army could do, it’s terrifying.
Judging by the lovely demon guards Ellise now has, I’d say she’s prepared to test her own army against Barron’s.
“Say you’ll help me,” I ask him one more time.
He shakes his head at me.
“Please. You were my only friend. You were my friend when I was an outcast. Please say you’ll help me so I can help Minden.”
“You can’t help us, Arlow.” His eyes close slowly, his head still shaking. “I’ll fix this. We have the means to fix this. Do not get wrapped up in a screwed-up feud that’s older than you yourself.”
“If you fix this, your army and her army will destroy two kingdoms regardless of a feud and regardless of who wins. Let. Me. Help.” I clench my jaw, and the prince’s emerald eyes lock on me, testing me and considering me all at the same time.
“No.” He turns, walking toward the door like I’m someone he fully intends to never see again.
He’s done. He’s done with me and he’s done listening to me.
“She’s spent over five years making me who I am today, Linden. She won’t let me walk away. She’s going to use me whether you like or not.” My voice is loud and commanding, and it surprisingly stops him in his tracks. “Get me the mage in Valencia.”
His shoulders tense in his smooth navy uniform. The beat of my heart counts down the seconds. He never looks back at me.
But he does give me hope.
“Ellise doesn’t know it, but her demon with the facial scar is my father’s soldier. Tell him what you need. I’ll make sure he gets it done.”
I have no idea who he means. I haven’t spent any time with hardly any of her demons and I have no clue how to pass this specific demon a message without Ellise noticing.
But it’s hope.
It’s the smallest shining light of inspiration.
And it lies with a demon.
Six
Reaching Rime
That evening before dinner, I roam the ancient Attikan castle. There’s a hollowness to my footsteps when I trail up the stone staircase. It curves in a spiral, but white sunlight casts in from the very top above. Smooth, cold brick skims along my fingertips. I carry the exhausting white dress in one hand and brush over the wide bricks that line the staircase wall.
I try really hard to appear aloof and unassuming.
Because I’m flanked on my little exploration by a mute shifter and two demons.
None of whom have a facial scar.
Is that really all Linden could give me as an identifier? No hair color or nam
e?
Men. Always leaving out the details.
I turn the corner a final time, coming to a long hall, illuminated by open holes in the walls that act as windows.
And come face to scary face with a demon. With one fucking terrifying facial scar.
I part my lips for a scream or a yelp, but only faint sound of a strangled breath slips out. It’s as if even my voice is too scared to show itself in front of the man.
Crimson eyes never meet mine while jagged white teeth split clear down the center, leading up with a crater-type wound that divides his face clean open. Fiery colors burn at the center where his nose should be, while dark, inky scabs heal around his skin. He couldn’t look straight forward even if he wanted to with the gaping divot splitting open his face.
He comes closer, his boots echoing around the space with every solid step the demon takes. My heartbeat drills harder, and I can’t do anything. I can’t speak. I’m pinned in place.
Strong hands press firmly over my hips and pull me back into a solid chest. I don’t look at him but I know it’s Rime. I know just from the familiar feel of his cold, claiming touch.
His dragon knows me. Not the way Rime does, but he seems to sense my fear, and he comforts me just as my mate would.
For this single bizarre instance, I feel connected with the man I fell in love with.
Rime really is the one good thing about this place.
Imagine how I’d feel if all of my mates were here.
My pulse continues to climb, but I close my eyes on a calming breath.
Chaos…
I wait, reaching for him like I’m looking inside myself. He’s there; I feel him like a piece of me that’s pulled too tight, strung out and tense.
He’s there.
I just can’t grasp the bond. I can’t reach him.
Seconds pass, the demon with the scar is long gone, and still I stand there leaning into Rime, trying and failing to find Chaos or Kain. Really, I’m tired. Worn down to the bone, and yeah, I spend just a few extra minutes letting Rime hold me.
