Page 32 of Fire & Ice

Beau clapped me on the back, his reassuring touch, an anchor in a sea of uncertainty. The room filled with a chorus of agreement and I felt a chill run through me as I realized what lay ahead of me. This was real now and there was no turning back.

With a decisive finality, King Lucas declared, "Very well. We shall proceed with planning this ball." He then turned to me and added, "I trust you will see to it personally. It is time you took on more of an active role in Court."

I responded with a faint murmur before all sound drowned out around me. The overwhelming burden of responsibility descended upon me like an anchor chain mercilessly dragging my hopes down into an abyss of darkness.

The session ended, and my heart sunk into a deep abyss. My innermost cravings whittled away with each passing second, until I was nothing more than a puppet to be tugged upon. Sara's laughter resounded in my ears. Was there any way to rid me of my affliction and did I even want to be unafflicted?

The air was thick with anticipation as I stepped into the chamber. Sara's laughter, like tinkling bells, rang out from the corner. She looked intoxicating in her velvet gown, illuminated by the flickering candlelight. She motioned for me to come closer, and my whole body tensed in response.

"Deakon, darling," she purred, her seductive spell weaving tighter around me. "I knew you wouldn't disappoint me."

"Of course not," I replied, my voice hoarse and throat parched. "You asked me to propose it, and I did."

"And they loved it!" Sara clapped her hands together with excitement. "The masquerade ball will be the talk of the kingdom—all thanks to you."

Her words hung heavy in the air, a reminder that I still did not know what she truly wanted from me. "Why this charade? What do you want?"

"Me?" Sara feigned innocence, her cherry-red lips curving into a tantalizing smile. "I only want what's best for everyone, especially our dear king and queen in waiting, Beau and Tempest."

My heart thumped heavily in my chest as I took a step back from Sara's paralyzing presence. She stood there, her gaze burning into me, her beauty belying the depths of her darkness.

"Your intentions are far from pure," I countered, the words bitter on my tongue. "I know there's more to this, and I won't be your puppet any longer. Do you have any true desire for me?"

Sara moved closer to me, her breath hot against my ear. "Ah, Deakon, sweet, naïve Deakon," she whispered. "I have every desire for you—to help me get what truly belongs to me."

"And what exactly belongs to you?" I questioned, my heart pounding with fear and longing.

"Beau…" Sara said gently, her fingers tracing a searing path along the contours of my face. "He will be ripe for the taking during the chaos of a masquerade ball."

Rage and jealousy burned within me. "The prince is already mated," I stated firmly. "Have you gone mad on bad blood? It's impossible and I won't let you use me like this."

A wicked smile crept onto Sara's lips as she spoke again. "Deakon, my love," she purred, her voice dropping to a sultry murmur that sent shivers down my spine and made my cock heavy with desire. "The consequences of resisting me are far more devastating than anything you can imagine."

Her words echoed through the chamber, hanging in the air like a shroud. I could feel my courage giving way as dread and desire waged war in the pit of my stomach. Had I already been pulled too deep into her web? Each step forward seemed perilous as I weighed between longing and doom, acutely aware that our fates were now entwined together if we chose to continue on this dark path.

"Your choice, darling," Sara murmured, her eyes alight with an ominous hunger. "But remember—once we set this plan in motion, there's no turning back."

Chapter 34

Deakon

I needed to assert myself. She could never understand my true worth if Beau was her goal. My bloodline was rarer than the royals’ who sat on our throne. A spirit halfling and she wanted a prince of ice? But I hesitated, for I could not deny that I was captivated by the woman before me, as I felt her vines wrap around me like silken cords, drawing me closer to her so she could rest her hand delicately upon mine. I looked into her forest-green eyes, marveling at the way they shone with the faint glimmer of emeralds.

We leaned in towards each other, and she slipped the ring off my finger. As she placed the ring back on her finger, I took notice of its ruby centerpiece casting a sinister glimmer in the candlelight but reflected in her eyes, it made the green of them even more inviting.

Just then, the opening door shook me from my blissful reverie. Charlie Snowden sauntered into the room; his lips curled up into that characteristic mischievous smirk of his. He took one look at us and raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Well, well, well," he drawled with a grin. "I see the gala turned out splendidly for you, Sara."

Sara, ever so graceful, merely smiled smugly at him, her fingers tracing the opulent curves of the golden ring that adorned her finger. She knew just how to use her charms to get what she wanted—whatever that may be—and I could feel her yearning radiating through the room Jealousy flared within me at the thought of more competition for her affections.

Sara's grip tightened on me, and I looked back into her eyes, heart racing. Everything around us seemed to move in slow motion—the flickering candles, the creaking of the floorboards beneath Charlie's feet as he entered into the room with a smirk on his lips—but all I could focus on was Sara and her ring, the ruby centerpiece glimmering like a beacon in the darkness. I stepped closer to her, feeling her warmth and power radiating from her body. "Snowden, what are you doing here... Aren't you a little far from home?" I muttered.

Sara, on the other hand, merely smirked, her eyes flashing with amusement. "Oh Charlie," she said slyly. "Deakon has been helping me to plan something truly spectacular."

Charlie shrugged off my question with a smirk and raised an eyebrow at Sara, intrigued. "And what might that be?" he asked, moving closer to us.

"There's to be a masquerade ball," I murmured, my voice thick with emotion. My fingers reached for Sara's, entwining with her own in a lingering embrace. All my internal struggle forgotten, I wanted nothing more than to whisk her away and make her mine.

Charlie moved closer to us, joining us in an intimate circle. His arm snaked around Sara's waist like a vice grip, and I felt a tinge of envy at their connection. "A masquerade ball, you say? Sounds like fun. This will allow us to finally get them alone," he mused lazily.