Her feet stomped across the wooden floor, closing the distance between us until her lips met mine.
I’d been struck my cannon fire.
I’d fallen face-first into a bed of hot coals.
I’d been burned at the stake.
I’d lived and died for centuries, but never in my life had I felt a fire like this.
I swore I felt my absent heart beat for the first time since the Queen had stolen it from me.
“Shit.Shit.”No no no. “I finally found you.”
Her lips are made of fire,
Her touch is made of flame . . .
My soulmate was a feckin’ human.
3
Waves crashed far below,a never-ending cycle, patiently chipping away at the impenetrable cliffs. Did they ever grow weary of their task? Did they ever wish for stillness and silence? A respite?
I stopped on the rocky path, clutching my knees, my breaths sawing in and out.
I ran to stay fit.
I ran to stay sane.
I ran to keep memories at bay.
And I ran to work off the heaping portion of venison Eava had made last night. And the two slices of apple crumble I’d managed to steal before Tadhg commandeered the rest.
The shadows living within me stirred, uncoiling and slithering through my veins, leaving me chilled despite the sun beating on my brow. Some were a result of the black magic used to keep me alive despite my lack of a heart; others were the result of me attempting dark, ancient spells to release myself from this prison.
Darkness bred darkness.
If you were to cut me open, even my soul would be black. Assuming I still had one.
I shifted into a dry set of clothes right before an unforgiving tug like a leash around my throat robbed me of my breath. I sank into the shadows and let the Queen send me wherever she willed, which happened to be along the bank of the inky black river separating the Black Forest from Tearmann’s lush green landscape. The moment I arrived, the heaviness of a tost settled over my skin, thankfully keeping out most of the stench from across the water.
The Queen may have been a few inches shorter, but somehow, she managed to look down at me where I stood. My black eyes reflected in her glossy black crown.
“You know better than to keep me waiting,” she said, her red lips flattening into a thin line.
“My apologies.” No sense giving her an excuse she didn’t want.
“I haven’t seen or heard from you in almost a month.”
“I’ve been kept busy.”
“What of the Vellanian troops?”
I gritted my teeth, determined to keep from telling her anything about my work. How’d she know I’d been inquiring after the troops in the first place? She never left the Forest, and we had barely any staff at the castle. Every time I’d discussed the topic with my brother, I’d used a tost.
The pressure around my throat returned; shadows coaxed the words from my lips. “Two ships arrived between this week and the last,” I gritted out, “one to the port in Burnsley and the other to Windwick, filled to the brim with soldiers.”
“Weapons?”