Cold Queen

by K. Webster

  Everything in me begs to go with them, but the castle is too big. Elzira and Valari are capable. Danser and I have our own battles to fight.

  We take another flight of stairs. Up, up, and up. I didn’t need Valari to tell me the ones who rule The Untouchables live at the top, safe in their tower. Danser and I move stealthily up staircases and down hallways, slitting the throats of men along the way.

  When we reach what seems like the royal suite, and kill the two men standing guard, I gently push inside the door. A fire flickers in the fireplace. On the bed, a man with a large belly fucks a small woman, who lies there and does nothing. He’s lost in the throes of passion, unaware that two lethal men have entered his space. As I approach, I notice the woman has bite marks all over her body and her stomach is swollen with child. She’s missing several fingers and toes. What’s the worst is her eyeballs are gone from their sockets.

  “Yes,” the man groans, baring his teeth that are covered in blood.

  I stalk forward and lash my whip at him, satisfied at the way his stomach opens up with the lash mark. He chokes out in pain before stumbling back, holding his abdomen. I lash again, whipping his dripping wet cock straight from his pathetic body. I’ve just raised my whip when the man cries out a garbled plea.

  A flash of dark hair swishes past me and the girl throws herself out the window. Danser doesn’t make it to the window in time. The sickening crunch can be heard a few moments later when she hits the bottom.

  “My queen,” the man sobs. “You let her go.”

  At least the poor woman has found peace.

  “You’re no king, pig. Kings have cocks.”

  The man cries as he clutches where his cock used to be. Danser strides forward and drives his blade into the man’s gut before dragging it up forcefully. The man’s stomach opens up and all of his innards spill out onto the floor with a loud splat. He falls with a thud.

  Summoning my fires, I light up the dead pig and all his body parts. The smell of human flesh isn’t one I enjoy, but watching this poor excuse of a human burn is satisfying. I inhale his sweet scent of death. Once he’s charred black, I storm off to assist the rest of my men in taking over Castle Highland.

  Elzira

  When we approach a locked door, I summon my ice. The lock turns blue before cracking down the middle. I pull it off and gently set it on the floor. Valari pushes inside the room. What we see disgusts me.

  Four men.

  Two are rutting against lifeless women while the other two are skinning meat from carcasses. Human meat. Not animals. Small, human bodies. Valari, overcome by rage, rushes toward one of them men on top of a brown-haired woman, a battle cry escaping her. Before I can assist, something bashes me over the back of the head. My crown cracks and clatters to the stone. I crumple to the floor beside it, my eyes heavy, as a fifth man comes into view. His sword is wet. All of the five Bloodstones who came with us are dead.

  I try to summon my ice, but a cloud of darkness swarms over me.

  When I manage to blink my eyes open, I realize my arms are bound behind me. I catch Valari’s glare from across the room. They’ve stripped her down and tied her wrists to ropes hanging from the ceiling. Her short legs have her teetering on her toes. The way her pregnant belly protrudes has worry creeping up inside me. She’s so vulnerable to these monsters.

  “Ahh, so the queen wakes,” the one who murdered five of my men states, revealing his toothless smile to me. “You’re a queen, right?” He holds up both halves of my broken crown and inspects the pieces. “You don’t look so regal without your crown. In fact, you look like another bitch growing my food.”

  My beast inside me is silent.

  No ice.

  Empty, coldness.

  Fear clutches my heart. I’ve relied on my gift so much that without it, I feel just as vulnerable as Valari.

  “Let us go,” I demand. “Let us go and your deaths will be quick and painless.”

  The man snorts, earning a few chuckles from his four men. “We’re not letting you go. No, we’re going to take turns with your tight cunts before having ourselves a little midnight snack.” He walks over to Valari and pokes the tip of his knife at her belly. “I bet this one tastes sweet. They always taste sweeter when they’re fresh and still kicking.”

  Fury surges up inside of me.

  Hot, white, violent.

  Rage like nothing I’ve ever know burns through me like a wild fire in a dense forest. It consumes my every thought. The room heats several degrees.

  Ryke!

  Emotion threatens to overcome me, but I remain strong. I tap into my fury. I lure the beast from its hiding place.

  Ryke never shows.

  Hiss. Pop.

  My hands are released and I pull them in front of me in confusion. They glow red. Fire. It burns through my veins like it is a gift of my own. It feels new and untamed and untaught. Wild and free and uncontrollable. Valari’s eyes widen in shock. The five men step back when I rise to my feet.

  “Don’t just stand there,” the leader barks. “Kill the bitch!”

  One of the fat men charges my way, I lash at him with a whip of fire, cutting the man clean in two. Each of his two halves slide apart and hit the stone floor with a juicy thud. The smaller of the men takes off running toward the door. Valari hops and hooks him around the head, clenching her naked thighs around him in an effort to make him suffocate.

  I send two fiery balls of fury hurtling through the chests of the two men remaining on either side of their leader. They scream, clutching their chests before crumpling to the ground. Then, I take a step toward the man in charge. He unsheathes his sword, earning a cackle from me.

  “What do you plan to do with that big knife, monster?” I sneer at him. “Cut me up like you did those poor, innocent children?”

  My headache starts to fade as my own beast rages forward. Rather than chasing away the fires, my beast uses them. I form a fist with my hand and marvel at the way a diamondblade forms like that of a large sword, blue flames licking from it.

  “What the…” the man trails off, horrified by my powers.

  With a quick whip of my arm in a sweeping motion, I saw right through the man’s neck. His head falls to the stone floor to my feet. I kick it out of my way and then shove the still standing body before making my way over to Valari. I swipe out above her, slicing through the rope with my bloody, fiery diamondblade. As soon as her hands are free, she yanks at the guy’s hair. I squat down and sling my blade through his calves, cutting his legs in two. His scream is otherworldly just as the door flies open. He teeters on his severed legs. One slight move and his body will separate from below his knee. It’s inevitable.

  Danser bolts for us with alarming speed, snagging Valari from off the man’s head. I use the moment to kick the man to the floor and then stand over him with my fiery blue diamondblade at his throat. The bottoms of his legs lie scattered beside him as blood gushes thick from the limbs. He sobs loudly, so I push the blade between his lips, making the blue fire blaze brighter. His face catches fire and burns blue, putting him out of his misery all too soon. Once he’s dead and no longer moving, I lift my gaze to find Ryke watching me with an intense look from the doorway.

  I take a shaky step his way and he stalks the rest of the way to me. He gathers me in his arms, pulling me tightly to him.

  “I don’t know what happened,” I whisper. “I thought you were here, but it was me, Ryke. I had fire. Somehow, I had fire.”

  His hand finds my stomach. “Seems you had a little help from our fire maker.”

  I gasp as I clutch my belly. My baby. My baby protected me when I needed it most. Hot tears well in my eyes. “They were bad men,” I whisper, finding Ryke’s lips with mine.

  “They’re all gone now.”

  Jorshi walks into the room and takes in the scene around us. “They’re all gone, my king and queen.” His gaze settles on the two women cowering in the corner. “What about them?”

  “I’ll take
them to camp and get them settled,” Valari says, tugging on the rest of her clothing. “You’re safe with us now,” she tells the women. “When you serve the Bloodstones, you’ll be safe and protected.”

  When the women seem unsure, Valari chuckles.

  “You think The Untouchables or The Damned are a match against a queen who is fire and ice?” Valari asks.

  The women both smile at me with hope in their eyes.

  “You are safe,” I assure them. “Danser, Jorshi, escort Valari and any innocents you find.”

  As soon as they’re gone, Ryke grins down at me. “So I’m just kindling, I suppose? Something to keep the all-powerful queen warm at night?”

  I kiss his handsome mouth. “Everyone has their duty. I’m glad you found what yours is.”

  He smirks. “You’re a cruel queen.”

  “You chose me,” I sass.

  His thumb brushes across my lip. “I’d choose you again and again. I love you, Elzira.”

  “I love you too, Volc.”

  Ryke

  Fourteen years later…

  “Please, Father,” my eldest son and heir to the crown begs.

  “Soren, begging is beneath you.”

  Soren scowls at me, his black crown heavy on his head. His black hair curls out from under the metal, reminding me of when he was still a baby suckling on his mother’s tit. Nothing about the way his icy blue eyes burn with fury is childish, though. My son is becoming a man.

  “Tell me, son, do you wish to visit the Easta Waterways because you want to fight with the Bloodstones in the War of Wars or is it because you’re following a girl there?” I smirk when his frown deepens.

  “I follow no one,” he stubbornly replies, but his gaze tracks her.

  Aylin sits beside her father Danser—not her real father, but no one speaks of it—and her mother Valari in the grand dining room where all our most trusted men and women eat together. As though she senses the young prince’s stare, she lifts her brown eyes and flashes him the briefest of smiles, softening her usually hardened features.

  Where Soren was raised to be a prince, fierce and strong to protect his people, Aylin was raised as a warrior. To find the wicked before they find us. We may have eventually won the Moral War after years of scouring the Hidden Lands, but the War of Wars continues. One day, the Easta and Westa kingdoms will also belong to the Bloodstones. Aylin’s recently become of age that Danser takes her with him on missions. Soon, she’ll be every bit as fierce as her father. People without gifts must rely on skill. She most certainly has skill for her age.

  Soren flicks out his wrist, absently rolling a ball of blue fire around in the palm of his hand, his stare locked on her. Of my eight children, he is the only one to present signs that he has both gifts of fire and ice. Mazon thinks it happened in the womb when his mother needed access to his gift to protect herself. He believes in that moment, they traded gift for gift, but never really gave them back. My queen never lost her fire making abilities. She remains the most powerful person I’ve ever encountered.

  And with two gifts, my son will need extra training to hone them both. For one day, when his parents are long gone, he will rule over the two remaining kingdoms—the Easta and the Westa—along with the ones already under the Bloodstone reign.

  “Papa!”

  I turn in time to catch Farren as she launches herself into my arms. She’s my little wanderer. Loves to run around and cause mischief. Her icy blond hair and amber eyes makes her a breathtaking sight. It’s easy to forgive her naughtiness when she grins at me.

  “Little Farren,” I chide. “You shouldn’t be running off alone. Where are your siblings and your mother?”

  “They’re slow, Papa.” She pouts.

  Atarah rushes into the room, her amber eyes on fire with fury. My daughter, born right after Soren, despite looking just like me, is her mother made over. She’ll cut you with one cruel look, and if that doesn’t do the job, she’ll burn you where you stand. We lost many servants when she had tantrums as a toddler.

  “My beautiful girl,” I greet when I catch her stare with mine.

  She loses her frosty look long enough to give me a rare smile. “Good evening, Papa.” Soren and her usually call me Father, but sometimes she reminds me that she’ll always be my little girl when she slips up and calls me Papa.

  The twin girls, Kenna and Nilsa, walk in hand in hand. Both with their icy white hair and pale blue eyes are miniature replicas of their mother. They’re quiet and sullen, two girls bound together by sharing a womb. Because of what happened with her sister, Elzira watches them for any signs of animosity. But love shines between those two. I trust they’ll be together until the end of this life, best of friends.

  I kiss each of the twins and then they find their place at the table with their sisters and brother.

  Thane and Caswell walk in next, just after the twins. Two brothers at eleven and ten years, thick as thieves. They remind me of me and my cousin growing up. I keep an extra eye on them so they don’t get into trouble like we did. They’re overly protective over the twins and the littles, but can’t hide their anger toward Soren. I’m not sure what’s happened between the three boys, but whatever it was isn’t something any of them discuss. Soren glares at them and they glare right back. I would guess if the boys were bigger, they’d try and take Soren.

  “Boys,” I greet, smiling at them. “Yashka made your favorite tonight.”

  They both grin back at me, losing their scowls before settling in next to the twins.

  A hush falls over the dining room as everyone bows their heads in respect. My wife, Queen Bloodstone, walks in, my youngest daughter nursing at her tit. Elzira’s hair is hidden beneath a massive crown of diamondblades. Tonight, she wears a black dress glittering with diamonds. Beautiful. Perhaps we’ll send the little with Valari tonight and I’ll try and put yet another one in her belly.

  Blazing blue eyes meet mine, flickering with warning.

  No more children she’d said after Asterin nearly killed her during labor. But Asterin was a gift. Why should a king and queen deny themselves of more of these precious gifts?

  Despite the fierce look on Elzira’s face, I can see the façade melting. After everyone has gone to sleep, she’ll let me part her thighs and spurt my seed deep inside her. She’ll give me another child. She’ll give me as many as her body will allow.

  “Please, Papa,” Soren utters again, his voice soft.

  I tear my stare from my beautiful wife to inspect my son. He wants this badly. It would be foolish to send the heir to the throne into the Otherlands—what we now call everything outside of the Hidden Lands. If he were to be killed, then what?

  Atarah sits up and smiles at me.

  A princess with a spine of fire.

  Queens have proven to be just as powerful as kings.

  I let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll agree on one condition, Sor.”

  He sits up, a wide smile stretching across his lips. “Anything, Papa. I’ll do anything.”

  “Anything?”

  He nods rapidly. He won’t like this. Not one bit at all.

  “You may ride with Danser and the Bloodstones to the Easta Waterways,” I agree. “But you must take Thane and Caswell with you. It is your duty to protect your brothers above all else.”

  The smile falls from my eldest son’s face. “Father,” he growls, his voice so deep for his age. “You can’t ask this of me.”

  Reaching forward, I move one of his unruly curls from his brow. “A king makes sacrifices. If I must sacrifice my heir to the throne so that he may chase after a girl in the Otherlands, then you must sacrifice a bit of yourself, young prince. They are your brothers and whatever strife lies between the three of you will get worked out on your journey. Are we clear?”

  His jaw clenches. “I won’t coddle them, Father.”

  “I don’t expect you to. Besides, they’d hate it if you did.”

  “Thane barely knows how to use a sword,” he complains. �
�Caswell probably still wets the bed.”

  “I dare you to let them hear you say that,” I taunt. “Thane is excellent with a whip. And Caswell makes diamondblades sharper than your mother ever could.”

  Soren’s blue eyes gleam wickedly. “But can they do both?”

  “I can’t do both,” I rumble, leaning closer, “and I can assure you, boy, I could still take you down.”

  Rather than being frightened, my brave prince grins. “Thank you, Papa. I won’t let you down.”

  I pull him to me and kiss my little boy, who wishes desperately he were already a man, right smack on the forehead. He grumbles and pushes me away, his cheeks flaring with embarrassment, but he remains smiling.

  When Aylin approaches my son, I turn to regard Elzira, who’s settled on my other side. Her eyes shimmer with amusement.

  “Are you done terrorizing my children?” she asks, smirking.

  “Never,” I growl. “Isn’t that right, Asterin?”

  My infant daughter pulls away from her mother’s nipple to smile at me. I hold my finger up and she grips it with surprising strength. A hiss escapes me when her fist ignites with a blue flame.

  “Ow,” I bite out, detangling my finger from my double-gifted daughter. “When did this happen?”

  Elzira laughs. “Just now.”

  I meet my wife’s eyes. “Best if we wait until Soren returns from the Easta Waterways before we tell him. He’s flying high on being the best gifted Bloodstone at the moment.”

  “Arrogant boys,” Elzira coos. “When will they ever learn the queen always outranks the king?”

  Asterin beams at me, reaching for my hand again.

  I don’t think so, sadistic, fiery ice maker. Leaning forward, I kiss her forehead. Then, I kiss the full, pouty red lips of my queen.

  “I was thinking,” I rumble, pinning her with a sweltering stare. “With the boys leaving on their journey soon, the castle will be awfully empty.”

  “Insatiable, insufferable Volc,” Elzira playfully grumbles.

  “Is your heart frozen, cruel one? Don’t you want to make me the happiest man in the world?”