Page 55 of Red Queen

Ten

Eleanna

Imount my steed, the beast’s muscles coiling under the pressure of my thighs. Anticipation courses through me as raw and fierce as the winter wind that howls across the barren landscape. Alexandru is at my side, his presence a living flame in the encroaching chill of our final quest—the Land of Whispers awaits.

“Once we secure the banshee’s whisper,” he says, a rumble of thunder against the brittle quiet, “The Darkened Pulse will be nothing but ash.”

“Within a mirror of pure silver,” I add, unable to resist the pull of his gaze. “Legends speak of its power, locked away in some forlorn cave.”

Our path unfurls like a ribbon of fate beneath us, each hoofbeat a solemn drum roll toward destiny. The banshee’s lament will be ours; I can feel it in the marrow of my bones.

I quiver, nipples hardening from the heat of Alexandru’s eyes as they sweep over me. His silver stare, so often cool and distant, now burns with an intensity that threatens to ignite the airbetween us. His armor clings to him like a second skin, outlining the sinewy strength of a warrior shaped by centuries. His black hair falls around his shoulders, framing his sculpted face—a visage honed from darkness and survival.

I force myself to look away, to focus on the frozen trail ahead. Yet, the memory of his touch, the scent of his skin, lingers like a ghost on my senses. Even now, every line of his form beckons, whispers of silk against steel filling my thoughts.

Every now and then I catch myself smiling, the feel of it almost foreign. I’m free-falling, and our sex—love making, I don’t know what to call it—was something I’ve never had. Like we transcended. Or else maybe I just needed it. I don’t know.

What I need is to step back. Maybe fight on. Or when this is over, fill myself with him, slake the thirst he’s set off and then turn my back let him have his empty place in my courtroom because I could make it work. I… I don’t know if I want to make it work like that. There’s a lot to be said of the free-fall, the washing up with the side of our emotions and the sensations that flow. Maybe I want that version of working things to my liking. Just a coming together and seeing.

I try and loosen my corset a little, pulling at it, like it’s cutting off my air.

There’s a mission and I must focus on that.

There’s a mission and thinking about him and the future in that way constrain and choke.

My wandering thoughts offer no reprieve.

I pull my cloak around me, a flag of war and want. My attire, the finest that should allow me to move and fight, mold to me. And I let the hunger I need well up. The hunger for power, for vengeance...and perhaps for him.

We ride in silence, the air crackling between us, more potent than any spoken word. Each glance carries weight, every breath shared pulls taut the thread of tension strung between our souls.

And as the Land of Whispers looms closer with the promise of what awaits—a banshee’s cry, a mirror’s secret—I cannot untangle my desire for victory from the web of longing Alexandru weaves around my heart.

Something snaps.

“Alexandru, you realize that our dalliance may be our undoing.” My voice wobbles slightly over the steady rhythm of hoofbeats.

He turns to me, his silver eyes flaring with a fire that doesn’t warm. “And what would you have us do, Eleanna? Deny what we are?” There’s a fierceness in his tone, echoing the battle-hardened general he is.

“Focus,” I say sharply. “We must focus on Catarina, on reclaiming what is ours. Our... encounters are clouding our judgment.”

“Yours perhaps. Without the respite I find in your arms, I’ve no interest in this quest,” Alexandru says. “If you wish to end what’s between us, then consider my aid withdrawn.”

Anger surges within me, hot and unwelcome. His words are unfair and they mock what happened between us. My words were meant to probe, perhaps share my worry of my own distractions. But the rope he pulls on, one of manipulation is ugly and brutal.

But as queen, I’ve learned the art of concealing fury beneath a veneer of calm. I tighten my grip on the reins and nod once, curt and decisive. “Noted. Then we continue as we have.” I stop short of adding...for now.

As we approach, the Land of Whispers is unveiled—a realm draped in silence and secrets. The cave mouth yawns before us, an abyss eager to swallow the light. The chill from its depths is a snake’s caress along my skin. But I am Eleanna Cordon, Queen of the Sagori vampire family, Mistress of Ravens. I will not cower before the dark.

“Here we are,” Alexandru mutters, dismounting.

With an assessing gaze, he scans the cave and the darkness within that beckons.

I dismount my steed, the snow crunching underfoot as I stand beside my general, my lover. The cave breathes arctic murmurs, promising both doom and discovery.

“Are you prepared, my fallen Queen?” His hand rests upon the hilt of his sword—a pledge of protection.

“One can only hope. And by the gods, stop calling me that!”

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