Page 3 of A Bride for the Winter King
Nell’s magic and Baka’s salves brought me back from the brink of a horrible death, but their combined skills haven’t been enough to extract the remaining spider venom from my rib. The rotten keepsake keeps the scar tissue in a constant loop of renewal and decay, and I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since.
I tug my jacket and shirt back down to cover the wound. “Told you so.” I force a deep breath down my lungs. “Why is the Winter King here with an army?”
“His new reapers finished their training and came to get their masks,” Nell explains.
She’s still very new to this world, and I sometimes forget that she doesn’t have all the baggage that comes with a life-long knowledge of Faerie. Or the truckload of prejudice associated with an upbringing similar to mine. Death hides from non-magic mortals, so she had probably never heard of reapers back home—except maybe in legends. She wasn’t taught to dread the sight of them.
Her fresh point of view is part of why I love her, really, but I swallow hard at her naiveté.
After today, another flock of reapers will leave the Shadowlands with the power to walk the worlds freely. They will travel through glass—or even through reflections on ice or water—and wreak havoc on countless mortal lives. Their jobis to collect souls as a gardener snaps flowers off their stems, plucking out the ones that catch their fancy.
The door to the courtyard blows open, and an icy wind gusts into the room. I slam it shut and jam a piece of wood through the lock to keep it secure.
Nell rubs the chill off her arms. “Brr— We’ll just have to move the party inside.”
Partyis the word we use to talk about the wedding, and I throw my best friend a pointed glare. “What if they decide to stick around?”
She shakes her head and steals another glance at death. “They should be gone before sundown. It’d be too dangerous to postpone our plans, anyway. We’ll make it work.”
An army of grim reapers dropping in early, an hour before her wedding… talk about bad omens.
“Do you know why their skin is like that?” Cece asks.
I’d rather talk about anything else, but once Cece asks a question, she won’t give up until she gets an answer.
“When reapers take their oath, the Winter King carves a special set of runes in their skulls. The glamor alters their appearance and grants them the power to act in his name,” I sum up.
Cece slips her fingers through the diamond mesh wall. “Can we go and talk to them?”
“No!” Nell and I answer in unison.
I rub a path along my brow to the earrings decorating the round shell of my ear. “That girl is going to drive me crazy. I mean—I love her, of course, but fifteen-year-olds are theworst.”
Cece braces her hands on her hips and lifts her chin. “Hey! I’m right here.”
I offer Lil’ Bit a wry grin. “It wouldn’t accomplish anything to complain about you behind your back. Then you wouldn’t know how to adjust your behavior.”
She sticks her tongue out. “It’s not fair. Baka and Damian never hold their age over me, and they’rewayolder.”
Nell and I share a giggle, which aggravates Cece even more. We shouldn’t hold our narrow age difference over her, but it’s just too tempting.
When she turns eighteen, she’ll access the deep well of magic inside her. Until then, her powers are bound to remain as wild and untamed as her character.
Ignoring the painful sting between my ribs, I wrap an arm around Nell. “Come on. You have to help me get ready for the party.”
The cold air vibrates with an entirely new pulse of magic, and all the hairs on my arms stand up at attention. A smoky cloud thickens into a man-shaped silhouette near the door.
“Crops!” Nell snatches a crossbow from the wall, and I summon my shadow blades back to life.
Seth Devine condenses into solid form, and the Fae prince rubs his hands together. “Did someone say,party?”
It’s not the first time Seth has weaseled his way inside the castle, but with his ill-fated timing, it might be the last. The fiend is absolutely gorgeous—half his magic born out of lust itself. My mask protects me from his lure, but Nell’s gaze loses focus, and Cece almost drools at the sight of him.
I raise my weapons in warning. “By the spindle! You’ve got a death wish, dude.”
The corners of his mouth quirk. “It’smy princeto you, Lori.”
“I could probably kill you, you know.”
