Page 89 of A Bride for the Winter King
Before I can move, the sharp tip of a dark, murky dagger presses into my neck. Dark tendrils slither within the confines ofthe blade, and I hold up both hands in surrender. Lori grips the hilt of her weapon, poised to sever my carotid if I dare to move.
I lick my lips and choose my next words carefully. “I thought you didn’t want to kill me.”
A snarl rushes down the slope of my neck. “I changed my mind.”
My lids flutter shut, the heat of her body pressed against my bare back draining the fight right out of me. The scent of fresh rain and burnt embers wraps me up in a cocoon of regrets, and I angle my neck to the side to give her better access. “Do it. Take your best shot.”
Her blade draws back an inch. I seize the opportunity, gripping her wrist and twisting around to face her as I stand. She’s absolutely stunning in her black and white dress. The front of her corset reveals the shape of her breasts, and the tulle skirt is torn off at the hem, the fabric barely licking the ground.
The piano bench creates an awkward barrier between us as I press the tip of her dagger right over my heart. “I’d love nothing more than to perish in your arms.”
She chokes on a quiet, heart-wrenching sob. “Did you know? Did you know Paul was going to disqualify me like that, in front of everyone?”
“Yes. It was my idea,” I admit with a defeated tilt of the head. “I have to marry Daisy tonight, or the whole realm will fall apart.”
Tears fill the cracks of anger in her voice. “Why? Why is getting married so damn important in this wretched kingdom, when every other Fae royal is free to remain single?”
“The gods gave Winter more power than the other kingdoms. It was needed to preserve the safety of the souls we collect, but it came at a price. So much magic, yielded by only one person, threatened the balance. Thanatos made it so the burden of replenishing the glacier’s magic on the solstice always hadto be shared. Both king and queen must allow passage to the souls that were collected during the year to the afterlife, or all of Faerie’s magic might wither. Winter destroys one, but spares two.”
She lowers her weapon, the blade flaking off into the ether. “Why not marry me, then?”
By the spindle…
My breath hitches, my jaw slightly open, but the fleeting spark blazing through my chest is quickly snuffed out by a cold, endless void. “I could never marry you. If I marry you, you’ll die.” I wrap a hand around her neck and bend down to kiss her, ravenous for one last chance to hold her.
One last taste of life.
She flattens her palms to my chest to stop me. “Every curse has a loophole. We could figure it out together.”
“I couldn’t take that chance with you.”
The fire in her eyes returns full-force. “So you’ll marry and kill Daisy instead? How is that fair?”
I caress the back of her ear with my thumb. “I want you tolive, Lori. To be happy.”
“Without you, you mean.”
I hold her burning gaze, desperate for her to understand. “That’s the only option. The Gray Man might have retreated the other day, but the Tidecallers aren’t finished with me. If rebels and thieves were able to hide their presence in Wintermere for so long, they must have found a way to replicate outlawed Mist Fae technology and used it to steal an immense amount of magic. War is coming. Every Fae—royal or not—is in danger now.”
“Is that why you think they tried to kill you? To suck out your magic?” she asks, tracing my features like she wants to draw them from memory later on.
I link our fingers and kiss her knuckles, walking around the piano bench to snake my other hand around her waist and hold her close. “I suspect that, if the Gray Man had succeeded in striking me down, he would have used my powers to take my place. Wendy already admitted that she was meant to win the Yule pageant so she could help him steal the souls.”
“What do you mean bytaken your place?”
“Controlling the light doesn’t just allow me to become invisible.” A stone sinks in my stomach as I adjust the million tiny scales of light magic covering my skin, tweaking them until the illusion I want to project is damn-near perfect.
I haven’t used this particular power in fifty years, the repulsive subterfuge bringing bile to my mouth.
Lori gapes, her jaw slack as she tenses in my arms. The woman I’m projecting back to her is an almost perfect copy of herself but for the cold glint in her gaze.
“You can imitate anyone?”
“For it to look convincing, I have to know the person very well and move like they would, but yes. The voice is a different story, but a simple spell could bridge the gap,” I explain before the illusion falters.
She molds her body to mine. “But the Gray Man doesn’t know you.”
“He must have watched the pageant to learn my mannerism, and while that might not be enough to fool the gods, it’d be enough to seize control of the realm for a few days. The souls are only accessible for one night a year, during the solstice ritual. It’s the most potent well of magic in all the worlds. A jewel forged out of a hundred million souls would allow its wearer to obliterate all the Fae kingdoms’ armies combined.”
