Page 23 of Queen of Stars and Shadows

And then I am standing before her in the shadows. A beam of moonlight catches the golden glow of her eyes, and they sparkagainst the darkness. Her silvery-lavender hair cascades down her back, and I can feel that stir of magic within her, that dark magic that matches my own. We are the same, she and I, somehow. I can feel it, even as my head tells me that it is very wrong.

“Zyren,” she whispers. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Even her voice is intoxicating, like a night flower, sweet and dark at the same time. And oddly familiar. The way she says my name, like she’s said it a thousand times.

“How did you escape?” I ask, suddenly feeling unsure of my own voice.

She shrugs. “The king and queen let me go.”

“Just like that? Do you bewitch everyone you meet?”

Sarielle’s eyes widen slightly in surprise. She takes a step closer to me, dangerously close now. I can smell the scent of her hair, her skin. Can taste her magic on the tip of my tongue. “Are you saying you find me bewitching?”

“No.” The words come too quickly, too defensive, and I can hear the lie in them. “Just that you must be, to have deceived so many. To have led Valaron into chaos.”

A frown tugs at her pink lips. “Is that what they told you?” Her voice breaks slightly.

When I don’t answer, she continues. “Listen to me, Zyren. Your brother is controlled by Avonia. He died and she used necromancy to bring him back. Anything he tells you is only whatshewants you to hear. It’s not that he wants to lie to you, but he has no choice. You have to believe me.”

“Funny.” I cross my arms over my chest. “That’s exactly what they told me about you. Master of lies and deception. A traitor and a thief.”

She stares at me for a long moment before speaking. “And what does your heart tell you?”

I stiffen. It’s as if she’s reached into my head and plucked the most delicate string, the most vulnerable part of me. Because that’s exactly what I’ve been battling with from the moment I felt that zing of connection across the field. There may be a battle raging beyond the palace walls, but the real fight is the one going on inside me in this moment.

“My heart can’t be trusted,” I say, my throat thick with emotion.

As if I have no control over my own body, my hand reaches out and strokes a strand of her hair, curling it around my finger. Just that tiny touch sends an electric pulse between us. I know it was the wrong move, because instantly I needmore. I slide my fingers further into her hair, my palm cupping the back of her head, my thumb stroking her cheekbone. Sarielle sighs and turns her face into my touch, her eyelashes fluttering and casting shadows across her face.

And it’s still not enough. My other hand slides around the small of her back, pulling her into me. I lean my forehead against hers, inhaling the warmth of her. She’s like oxygen, life essence, something so essential I can’t be without it. Her hips brush into me and she lets out a slight murmur, pressing herself against my body as if she needs me just as much. Our magic merges and mingles, sliding around us like deep, dark velvet.

I rotate my face until my lips hover over hers. She lets out an expectant rush of breath, and my hand that’s woven into her hair tightens. I taste her magic on the air between us, and then, tentatively, I taste it on her lips. A storm moves between us, darkness and light and tension and release all at once. Her lips feel so familiar, like finding some long-lost part of me. She trembles against me, and I probe further, deepening the kiss, drinking her in like I’ve been wandering the desert for ages and she is my oasis.

Then the ground shakes and there’s an enormous crash as the battering ram breaks through the palace gates.

Reality rushes in around me. I’m here to take Sarielle to my brother. She is theenemy, and I’ve fallen under her spell just as they’d warned me.

I step back, creating distance between us. Sarielle’s face widens in shock as if I’ve struck her.

“Don’t do this, Zyren,” she begs. “Come with me. We’ll find a way to get your memories back. And we’ll save Valaron together.”

“No. I’m not coming with you. You’re coming withme.”

I step toward her again, but this time she moves out of reach. “Don’t you see!” She flings an arm toward the palace. “Your brother and Avonia are invading Eldare. Just as they invaded most of Valaron. How amIthe enemy when they’re the ones leading the army?”

My brow furrows and I shake my head, my thoughts clouding over. “No, you have it wrong. Jonavus said—”

“Jonavus is herslave!” Sarielle cries. “Go see for yourself if you don’t believe me. Who else would be able to command an army of nightmares other than me? And I’m right here before you.”

“Maybe you sent your generals to lead the attack while you tried to bespell me.” But even as I say the words, doubt worms through my head.

“Fine. Let’s go see.” Her expression has gone from sad to furious in an instant, every line of her body hard with anger.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I growl.

“Because, deep down, you know that I’m right.”

I catch movement out of my periphery, and four figures stride toward us from a cluster of trees a few dozen yards away. Sarielle’s companions.

“We need to go, Sarielle. The battle is drawing closer,” one of the men says, the sorcerer from Valaron with the blue eyes.

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