Page 110 of A Bride for the Winter King
Elio turns his back to me, his fists balled at his sides. His feet remain firmly rooted in place, but his entire being shakes. It is apparent that he is clenching at every ounce of self-control he has left not to lunge at his brother. “Ezra Hermes Lightbringer, you get out of my kingdom before I kill you. I never want to see you again.”
The order carries the weight of the glacier along with it, and magic frosts the air.
Ezra rubs his face down, unfazed. “Don’t fuss over a pretty girl, kid. What am I always telling you? You take everything too seriously?—”
“Are you proud of the pain you cause around you? Why do you want to be like him so badly?”
Ezra’s face pales, and he stops breathing for the longest time, what little air is left in his lungs just enough to bark, “I amnothinglike our father.”
“You need a better mirror,kid,” Elio drives his index finger against Ezra’s chest. “Because from where I stand, you’reexactlylike him.”
Ezra slices his head from side to side. “Iris knew she was fucking me. She wanted to.”
“Do you think that’s what I meant? That you deserve a fucking prize for not passing as someone else? For not passing as me as our father would have done if he’d had the chance? Is that what allows you to sleep at night?”
The carefully crafted mask of wicked nonchalance and fraternal condescension falls from Ezra’s face, pinching his brows and clawing through his blue eyes until a completely different man stands in his place. “You left me alone with him and never looked back. He took your wings in front of me, but you never stopped to ask what he took from me.”
“Why would he take anything from you when you just stood there and let him do it?” Elio shouts as he pushes Ezra with all his might, thorns of ice sinking into his brother’s shoulders.
“You know damn well that if I had tried to help, he would have clipped my wings, too! He punished me for not telling him you were leaving, for not ratting you out when you made your plans. He destroyed her, Elio. Just for the hell of it. And you, with your new crown, your mighty throne, and immense power, did nothing.”
For the first time, I feel Iris’s emotions. Her jaw clenches, the realization that she’s been a pawn in a much bigger war filling her with blistering fury. I watch helplessly as she summons a long, wavy-bladed ice dagger. My consciousness thrashes in the confines of her body, desperate to stop what’s about to happen.
My wrist shakes in hesitation, and I hold my breath. The scene before me becomes clearer and more vivid, as though I have suddenly pulled a veil from my surroundings. Tears wet my cheeks, and I blink, but the strange phenomenon lasts only a moment.
Iris drives her weapon deep into Elio’s backside, and he cries out in a mix of surprise and pain. A wave of ice unfurls from the wound as he falls to his knees, no blood leaking to coat my blade. Only ice.
The ground shakes, and the entire tower tilts under our feet.
I raise my dagger a second time, aiming higher, but Ezra dashes between us. “Iris, stop!” He knocks the blade out of my hands at the last possible second, and it ricochets off the wall with a loudclunk.
The Winter King staggers to his feet and spins around as I summon another dagger. Just as I am about to strike, he catches my wrist mid-air. The blue sea in his eyes is frozen, and a glacial flare jolts up my arm. Blue lines spread from my wrist to my elbow, mirrored on Elio’s arm. A jagged bolt of ice surges up to our shoulders and snakes toward our chests, as though it’s about to crack us in two. An arctic blast sweeps through my body, chilling me to the core.
Ezra pushes me off his brother with all his might, separating us. My body rams against the window, but instead of stopping my momentum, the glass explodes into a million pieces.
A warm breeze brushes my arms and legs as I fall, the long train of my sequin dress waving like a white flag above me. A sharp crack echoes in my skull, followed by a dizzying wave of nausea. The metallic tang of fear and blood fills my mouth.
The impact leaves me dazed. My lids are heavy as I blink and take in the shocked faces of my guests, who have stopped eating their breakfast. The music cuts off abruptly, and two women spring to their feet. Freya inches closer, covering her mouth with one hand, while Iris’s mother rushes to my side.
“My flower!” Irene clasps my hand. “Iris, Iris, can you hear me?” She turns to a slender, young version of Seth. “Get a healer boy, quickly!”
He dashes into action and disappears between the onlookers, rushing off to find help.
“You’ll be alright. Just hang on.”
A crowd forms at a respectful distance, and shocked gasps buzz through the gardens. From the corner of my eye, I see Sara stumble out of the maze. The bright blue runes carved into her skull and hands glow with an eerie light, and the guests who haven’t yet left their seats cower behind Freya as she approaches.
Irene wraps herself around me, growling, “Get away from her, you monster.”
But the young Sara inches forward, her teary gaze fixed on the matching glow hovering above my chest.
Irene steps away from my side and shoves her with all her might. “Don’t you dare take her soul! The healer is here now.”
Sara falls to her knees on the stones as the crowd parts to make way for Elio and the healer. “I-I’m so sorry, Your Majesty.”
A wrinkled woman in a long, flowing robe approaches, but all eyes turn to the Winter King. His gaze darts between Sara and me as he makes his way forward, one step at a time. Froststains his shirt and pants, a flurry of snowflakes still spilling from his injury. Four guards in full uniform start ushering the guests inside, but Freya steps in front of Elio.
“What happened?” she snarls, her fists clenched at her sides. “How did she fall?”
