Logically, I knew the dead couldn’t see. His eyes were gone anyway, scooped out by the embalmer’s shiny spoon and replaced with small stones to preserve the structural integrity of the face and to keep the eyelids closed. None of these things reassured me that the burning gaze across my back didn’t originate from my father’s body.
I avoided looking at the man in the ornate wooden and gold coffin. I had seen enough of him for the past twenty-two years. He didn’t deserve another second of my attention.
“Your Majesty, it might be better if I perform the final step of the preservation.” The young woman to my right shifted her weight from foot to foot. Her face held a red hue, and she bit her bottom lip a little too hard.
I settled my attention back to the arm in my hands. The blood was gone, drained in the first days after my father’s death, and the grey skin sagged on the bones. A thick swatch of herby wax under my nose cast a rosy scent over the death-filled room.
“I’ve got it, Hannah. Don’t worry about me.”
I dunked the limb into the metal bucket at my feet. The angle bent me forward, but I barely registered the discomfort. The hand in the bucket had caused me much more pain. Bubbles puckered at the dead flesh as the acid ate away at the arm. Vapors twisted to the surface, and I almost wished the wax wasn’t so competent at warding away the scent. The body at my back and his limbs in my hands did not quite convince me the man was truly dead. I wanted to smell his flesh burning.
“Queen Belle, it isn’t right for you to do this.” Hannah’s voice came out thin, stressed. In this place, she was used to being in charge, but her authority ended at my hem. “He was your father.”
“And his bones will be inscribed with spellwork and added to our catacombs. It’s our community’s responsibility to maintain our most treasured possessions. I’m simply doing my part.”
I hoped she could not hear the glee in my voice, but she hugged her arms tighter around her chest. A piece of me wanted to comfort her. She was my charge, after all, but I was too enamored by the arm in the acid.
I twisted the limb, and the flesh slipped from the bone like a bride’s dress on her wedding night. The brittle finger pieces fell to the bottom, encased in a layer of melted skin, and I dragged the humerus up. Two smaller bones clung on stubbornly. I whacked them against the side of the metal bucket, and they splashed back into the liquid.
“There!” I held up my trophy, and Hannah’s wide eyes peered at me beyond my father’s arm. The arm that would never raise at me again.
“That’s wonderful, Your Majesty.” Hannah lifted a thick towel beneath the dripping bone to catch the spilling acid. Her hands shook as I surrendered the limb to her embrace. I pretended not to see the deep discomfort splashed across her face. “Perhaps it’s time for you to attend the funeral. Your absence would be noticed, My Queen.”
A porcelain sink sat at the edge of the embalming room, and a pitcher of clean water perched on the side. I lathered soap into my hands, soaking up any lingering traces of acid, and rinsed them until the bubbles disappeared. The water trailed through my fingers and cooled some of the anger trapped in my chest. Anger that my father had died, and it had not been my hands that had done it.
My fingers curled into fists, and the pitcher banged against the side of the sink. The noise startled me, and the rest of the water poured into the basin.
“Sorry, Hannah. I spilled the water.”
“Don’t worry, Your Majesty. I’ll have my assistant fetch more.”
I nodded and wiped my damp palms across the fabric of my cotton dress. The rich cream and golden fabric appeared out of place in the dark morgue. It didn’t match the stretching tables, the plethora of embalming equipment, or Hannah's black outfit. It did match my father’s coffin well—another bend of my knee toward his superiority, and it would be the last.
“Well, what’s next?” I took in the stacks of bare bones waiting for the spellcasters to inscribe their delicate symbols and lock our knowledge of magic into the ancient catacombs under the castle. Beside the naked bones sat a small pile of fleshy limbs ready to be stripped and bleached. One large, masculine leg stood out among the rest.
“Can I do his leg now?” I knew the joy seeped into my voice, but I caught it too late.
Hannah’s face twisted, and she failed to hide her disgust.
“Your Majesty, I’d rather you did n—”
The door swished open behind me, spilling a chilled wind into the small chamber. More torchlight cascaded from the hall and set a glow across my father’s face that he didn’t deserve.
“There you are.” Matias stepped through the arched doorway and half bowed to me. I returned the gesture, and he rose, towering almost six inches above my five-foot-seven frame. “They’ve been waiting for you.”
Hannah’s shoulders sagged in relief.
“I told them to begin the ceremonies without me.” I glanced at my father’s body again and wished my gaze could burn the man. I’d have to settle for worms eating his body. “I needed to see Da one more time.”
Matias’s footsteps echoed as he came to stand beside me. He wrapped one arm across my shoulders, and I leaned into his side. We both studied the corpse, alone amongst crisp white silk, a clean military uniform hiding the two harvested limbs.
“The King will be missed.” Matias bowed his head in respect. My neck locked, my head refusing to bend an inch.
“He can rest now,” I said. In Hell, I hope.
“Yes, he can.” Matias squeezed me for a moment, then this arm fell to his side. He looped his hands in front of him in a proper stance. “May I escort you to the funeral, My Queen?”
A thick wave of dread dripped through my chest, but I forced myself to smile. I wrapped one hand around Matias’s elbow, and he looked back to nod at Hannah.
“Thank you, miss, for distracting our Queen from her grief. The council will send a gift with our gratitude.”
Hannah ducked into a low bow. “I must thank you, sir. And my condolences to the Queen for her loss.”
The door latched shut behind us. Our footsteps echoed across the stone floors. Rich sandstone mined from beaches far to the west built the castle walls. Pockets of human kingdoms peppered that area, and we traded our cattle, grain crops, and lumber for their warm stones and fresh seafood. But this deep underground, the castle lost the natural light, and the orange glow of the stones turned flat and dark.
“King Alexander was concerned about your absence,” Matias said.
Through the layers of anger and dread, a fresh spark ignited. It grew to a flickering flame, burning away some of the burden I carried. I had told Alex this morning that I had no intention of attending the full day of funeral ceremonies for my father, the retired king. That he still asked about me made my false smile turn real. I longed to feel his hand in mine, his skin against me.
“He knew where I was,” I said.
“He was more concerned about your state of being, I think. Losing a parent makes one’s heart heavy.”
My heart was lighter than ever, but I couldn’t tell Matias that. My father’s rule had united the people of Henosia. They loved him and would rebel against anyone that ended their illusion—even their queen.
“Then we must find the king and reassure him of my well-being,” I said.
Matias led me through the twisting maze of stone tunnels, filling me in about the morning ceremonies I’d already missed. The hymns had been sung. The torches representing the king’s eternal life had been lit. Alex had given a grand eulogy and sung praises for my father’s rule. As we neared the upper levels, the deep groan of a mourning choir, low and melancholy, vibrated through the air.
I schooled my face into an appropriate expression of grief. I’m terribly sad my father has died. Really, I am.
People crowded the castle’s main hall. Shoulder to shoulder, witches, vampires, and humans crammed together into any available crevice of space. Muddy shoes hid the flat, polished floors. Black cloths draped across the walls, covering multitudes of colorful paintings. The saltiness of sweating bodies crept through the spent wax under my nose, and I wiped the mixture with the back of my hand. Hints of rose petals speckled my skin like creeping death on an unsuspecting victim.
Matias’s top lip curled.
“There’s so many civilians here.” An edge of a growl lined his voice.
“These are our people.” I smiled somberly as the crowd noticed our presence and began to part for us. “They loved my father.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Matias said.
A murmur broke through the gathering as we passed. The narrow space spanned barely wide enough for Matias and me to squeeze by. People, eyes filled with tears or faces turned almost purple from days of grief, reached for me. I grabbed their hands, their searching fingers, and offered the little comfort I could.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” one dark-skinned woman choked out before tears broke her voice.
I wrapped my hand around hers and drew it to my heart.
“No,” I whispered, “I am sorry for what you have lost.”
Her hand slipped, and she lowered her face, clutching for a young child at her feet.
Matias’s light touch on my elbow drew me away.
“The king is waiting,” he said softly.
The crowd stretched outside the doors, where a grand dais had been constructed for the funeral. Stairs crisscrossed the wooden structure and ended at a long row of tables at the very top. The council sat there, a group of three men and two women. One council chair remained empty, waiting for Matias to find his seat. Two thrones nestled between the council chairs. Composed of deep mahogany and inlaid with thousands of coins’ worth of gems, the thrones were testaments of our wealth. Until recently, they had been anchors in my personal prison.
The council noticed the change in the crowd and looked our way. Their eyes locked on me, and relief stretched across their faces. Veronica Harpsby, a light-skinned redhead, gently tapped Alex on the hand and pointed at us.
King Alexander Galloway shifted his attention to me, and the world stopped under my feet. His sun-kissed skin highlighted high cheekbones and a strong, square jaw. Dark hair twisted over his ears and threatened to cover his smokey eyes. As though time held still just for us, he smiled, and the light wound across his face and ignited a smoldering glow in his eyes. My heart raced, and a swell of longing and need bubbled in my core. Alex flipped his hand on the arm of his throne and flicked his fingers in a “come here” motion. My real smile felt foreign on my face. I climbed halfway up the stairs before realizing I’d dropped Matias’s arm, and he trailed quietly behind me.
I paused before the next step.
“I’m sorry, Matias. I didn’t realize I’d left you behind.”
He waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it, My Queen. It may be hard to believe, but I was once young and in love. Nothing else in the world exists.”
I smothered a laugh, but in a way, he was right. The only thing I wanted now was to be beside Alex.
I rounded the dais and sank into the throne at Alex’s side—the throne my father had once occupied. Alex smiled a row of white teeth wide enough to hint at the sharp fangs in the front and held his hand out. The rough edges of the day smoothed at his touch, and we fit together like a puzzle.
Councilwoman Harpsby leaned toward me.
“Welcome back, My Queen. My condolences for your loss.”
I tipped my head at her and turned back to the choir as the final notes rang through the cemetery field. The royal gravesite, reserved for the ruling class, lined the eastern edge of the castle grounds. Sweeping headstones reached upward, much too large and much too bold. Although in death I was unlikely to care, I secretly hoped my own grave would be simpler and more practical. Perhaps even a pyre to send me to the sky in flames.
A fresh hole etched into the ground beside a pile of rich dirt. As the choir's tones faded, a trumpet tune shouted at the melancholy crowd. I stammered to my feet, as did the rest of the council.
I held my breath. Despite the amount of people, silence stretched through the field. We arched our necks, looking for the first hint of the coffin.
Four pole bearers carried my father’s rectangular tomb—two witches, one vampire, and one human. Our entire population recognized the loss of their previous ruler. They wore all black, in mourning, a uniformed crew carrying my final family member to the grave.
The coffin reached the center of the dais and paused. One of the pole bearers passed his duty to another and circled to the front of the casket.
“My Queen.” He bowed low. “And My King. We humbly seek permission to lay to rest Tarik Earnest Decan Cresswell, former King of Henosia, fourth in his line, Keeper of the Three Kingdoms, Master of the Order of Spellcasters.”
Striker of Children, though I didn’t dare say the words out loud.
Alex squeezed my hand.
“You may lay the king to rest,” Alex said. If it surprised the crowd to hear him speak instead of me, they didn’t show it. Perhaps they assumed I was too emotional to order my own father into the ground. “May his rule be eternal!”
“Eternal rule!” our people echoed as the coffin resumed its trek. “Eternal rule!”
They reached the edge of the pit, and four others jumped into the hole. Together, the four on top lowered the coffin into the grave, and the ones inside received it. The hole stretched wider than it needed to be. Nobody would be trapped inside the pit except the dead king. Once the golden coffin settled, the four clambered out of the grave. All eight bowed at us again, then dispensed into the rest of the crowd.
Alex spoke beside me, and I smothered a flinch of surprise.
“The Queen has reserved a special flower to lay with her father,” he said.
I did?
A young woman with a black veil over her face appeared from behind the dais. She held a single white gardenia. Although I sat too far away to smell the bloom, I imagined the rich floral scent wrapped in the delicate white petals.
Alex had planned this. He knew my facade for the people would be thin today. He knew they needed to see a queen with care and compassion for her family that also would be extended to them. And he knew I would not be capable of providing that, not today.
The woman dropped the delicate bloom into the hole. I couldn’t see the coffin or the flower, but new gasps and cries escaped from the audience members closest to the grave.
I leaned into Alex. “What happened?”
“The flower was enchanted to multiply. His casket wears a blanket of gardenias now, all from you.”
I repressed an inappropriate smile. My father, the great hunter and founder of the hardened Order of Spellcasters, would have shivered at the thought of being covered with flowers. I hoped they bloomed for an eternity.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“You’re welcome, love.” Alex’s breath sent chills down my spine.
The casket was settled. I stretched taller, straining to see the piles of dirt that would be shoveled back into the hole.
“My Queen.” A man’s voice whispered into my ear. My heart leap into my throat, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe.
“Nadeem.” I rested my hand over my pulse, and the young vampire gave me a toothy grin. “You scared me.”
“My apologies.” He bent into a half bow with an exaggerated sweep of his hand, but the lightness of his tone drew suspicions about its sincerity. “I have waited for a better time, but alas, this appears to be the only moment. The Apothecary wishes to speak to you.”
“Now?” I asked.
Nadeem nodded, his wild, curly hair bouncing atop his head.
“What could be so important to draw my wife from her father’s funeral?” Alex asked, leaning near enough for his crisp, soapy scent to surround me.
“It’s fine, love.” I took a deep breath. No matter how much I wanted to watch the man be permanently cast into the ground, my kingdom came first. “Father would want me to aid our people in any way I could.” That was true, at least. The man would bend backward for a civilian.
Alex squinted at Nadeem. The other vampire held his hands up in surrender. The youngest on the council, Nadeem, was a prodigy, already making great strides in our development and research divisions. I’d never forget Nadeem’s reddened face when he’d once argued with my father for his own laboratory. Not many dared argue with their king, but Nadeem’s stubbornness had drawn a rare smile from the man.
“All right, I give up. I had plans to kidnap the queen for a grand ransom, but that plot is foiled. Now I will simply take her to the elderly Apothecary and leave her to his mercy.” The darkness of Nadeem’s skin enhanced his fangs as he smiled, and a bubble of laughter seeped through his words.
Alex rolled his eyes, but a hint of humor nestled across the lines of his face.
“Fine, go, go.” He squeezed my hand, then let me go. “But be quick.”
Nadeem led the way around the sparkling thrones and behind the other council members, who gave us disapproving looks. The wooden dais groaned beneath our feet, but the choir began a sweeping, haunted symphony of grief that covered our sly steps.
Finally, we reached a second set of stairs on the backside of the constructed platform. People milled around, whispering in hushed tones about the organization and scheduling of the next event. Many held parchment perched on slim boards, and others trailed behind them with quills and vials of fresh ink. There was an organized chaos to the madness. The backstage of life that the living rarely got to see.
My constituents bowed as I passed and offered condolences. I nodded and smiled but wished I could wave them all away. I craved a few brief moments to myself, but a queen was never alone. In my two months of ruling, I’d already learned that.
“My Queen, this is Apothecary Loui Rios,” Nadeem said.
Loui’s milk-white skin and a hint of redness in his eyes suggested a strain of albinism. He hunched a bit, as though carrying his age on his back. Wrinkles draped across his paper skin, etching memories onto his frame one line at a time. He squinted at me, despite the shade of a tall pine we stood beneath. I wondered how the Apothecary could read the labels on his bottles if he had trouble seeing me in the daylight.
“Queen Cresswell.” His voice, deep and woodsy, sounded stronger than his body. “Maybe you can explain why it takes three thefts of my property before the royal family shows any interest in the problem at all.”
I forced a hard smile onto my face, though I couldn’t stop my brows from arching into my hairline.
“I’m sorry.” I tried not to clench my jaw. “Could you repeat that?”
Nadeem opened his mouth, but Loui beat him.
“Hard of hearing, too, are ya?” Loui raised his voice, and several people around us paused their frantic scurrying to stare. “There’s been three robberies into my apothecary, and you royals don’t give a rat’s ass about a damn one. Don’t you know how dangerous Amanita phalloides and denatured rapeseed oil are? We could all be dead in our beds before morning.”
“I don’t know…” I turned to Nadeem, who shrugged. I backpedaled around Loui’s inappropriate tone, caught off guard. “I don’t know what those are, actually, or how they’re dangerous. And I assure you, this is the first time I’ve heard of the apothecary being robbed.”
Loui spat a thick wad of black chew on the ground. My stomach twisted at the sight, and I resisted the urge to sidestep from the man.
“I told that advisor guy. What’s his name, Matt? Muhammad?”
“Matias?”
“Yeah, sure. I told him twice now, and he said he’d look into it.”
“Did he?” I forced a smile on my face.
“Do you think I’d be standing here at my dead king’s funeral if he’d looked into it?” Loui stepped near me, and the putrid scent of old tobacco and stale herbs sat between us. “Now you don’t look as daft as you’re sounding, so listen. Whoever broke into my supplies took some dangerous substances. I’m talking poisonous, curse-casting, brainwashing substances. Are these the things you want running free around the castle?”
“I assure you, sir, they are not.” I ground my teeth.
“Then you need to do something about it.” He stepped back and cupped his hand over his eyes.
I dipped my waist to a half bow. He didn’t deserve it. This conversation could be enough to put the man to death, and Nadeem knew that, too, judging by the way he bounced nervously from foot to foot. But this was a real oversight. It should not have been the first time I’d heard about the robberies and the threat they posed to the kingdom.
“I assure you, Mr. Riso, I will do everything in my power to locate the thief and retrieve the missing medications.”
The old man studied me for a long moment. “Call me Loui.” He dropped his hand from his eyes and held it out between us. “And I believe that you will, Queen Cresswell.”
I shook his hand.
“You again.” Matias broke away from the other staff members and strode toward Loui. “I thought I told you that your issue was being handled and you’d hear from the castle staff when it was finished.”
Loui’s lips pressed. “And I told you it was a real problem right away, and oh boy, look what’s happened now. There was a third theft.”
Matias’s back locked straight.
“When?” His voice was tight. “What did they take this time?”
“Water Homlock,” Loui said, his gaze attempting to cut Matias in half. “Enough of it to kill the whole royal court if half of them weren’t vamps, though it’s concentrated enough to do damage to them, too. But what they took before that was worse.”
Matias’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, and the color drained from his skin. I rested my hand on his arm, and he looked at where our skin touched.
“Why wasn’t this brought to my attention, Matias?” I whispered low enough for Loui not to overhear.
“It’s a regular investigation, Your Majesty. The royal guard is handling it. Most of the items stolen were mundane—commonly abused substances and such. But this is a dangerous and frightening development. I will personally investigate this immediately.”
“See that you do,” I said. “I expect regular updates.”
“Yes, My Queen.” Matias turned to Loui, whose pinched face expressed his displeasure. “Please, sir, tell me everything again. From the beginning.”
“For the fourth time…”
Their voices faded away as Matias led Loui toward the castle.
New conversation sprouted from the crowd on the lawn. Throngs of people broke from the gathering and began to shuffle toward the front hall, where a grand celebratory feast would be served. Between the muffled crying and layers of sadness, laughter and warmer voices slipped through. The grieving was over, and the food was prepared. The people were ready to move forward.
But was I?
“I’m sorry that Loui was so brash,” Nadeem said beside me. I barely heard him as I caught sight of Alex descending the wooden staircase.
“It’s all right, Nadeem. I’ve already forgotten about it.”
Alex appeared at my side. His strong arms wrapped around my waist, and I sunk into the warmth of his body. Two months of marriage were not enough to believe this man belonged to me. The soft silk of his black shirt couldn’t hide the line of taut muscles on his chest, and his pants wrapped around his tight thighs like a glove. He was my security, my lifeline, my air when I couldn’t breathe.
One large hand held the back of my head, and he nestled me into the crook of his neck.
“I’m sorry you missed the burial.” He spoke into my hair. “Should I have him undug so you can watch it again?”
I shook with laughter. “No, I think I will survive having not seen it.”
I tilted my face toward him, and he brushed rogue hairs from my cheeks. His fingers danced like warm flames across my skin, and my lips tingled in anticipation of touching his.
“We have only the feast left,” he said. The scent of soap, lemon, and something more musky underneath fluttered around me.
“Do we have to go?” I wrapped my hands around him to draw him closer. “I can think of several other things I’d rather put in my mouth.”
A wildfire erupted in his eyes, and they shifted to my lips, painting them in imaginary kisses.
“We don’t have to go to the feast.” Alex’s voice turned husky. “We can do whatever you want.”
“I want to go back to our room with you.”
“As you wish, My Queen.”
He pressed his lips against mine, a gentle touch that left me craving more. Then he stepped away from me and exchanged our tight embrace for a gentle clasp of our hands. It wasn’t as good, but it would do.
Alex pulled me toward the castle, and I managed a quick wave goodbye at Nadeem.
The people didn’t pay as much attention to us when a food offering waited at the other end of the property. We made our way against the crowd, politely apologizing as we went. Alex’s tug on my hand grew harder, more desperate, as we neared the entrance of the castle that would lead to our rooms. I laughed as he pulled me, but anticipation filled me too.
Someone stepped in front of us, and Alex jerked to a halt. I stumbled into his back, and his hand in mine was all that anchored my feet.
“Are you two lost?” Matias laughed and steadied me with a touch on my other shoulder. “Sorry, I didn’t expect to be trampled on my way to the feast.”
“Apologies, Matias.” Alex swung me around to stand by his side. “We are the ones going against the grain. We will move slower next time.” A look shimmered in his eye that added falsity to his words.
“The dining hall is that way, King Alexander, or do you need a guide in your own castle?”
“We have decided not to attend the feast, actually,” Alex said.
Matias’s brows shot up. “Is that a wise decision? The people will expect to see you there.”
“My wife is not feeling well enough for more festivities after her father’s funeral.”
Matias scanned my face. My skin turned warm and rosy with anticipation of Alex’s body, and my eyes did not hold a single tear for my father’s loss. I tried to flatten my expression into a neutral mood, but the pinch of Matias’s face said I had failed.
“I think you should make an appearance at the feast, My King. If only for the introduction,” the man said.
Alex tensed. The heat and fire that had burned between us moments ago suddenly cooled. A chill crept into his tone.
“I am the king, and your role as my queen’s advisor is important, but it does not give you limitless power. Be sure you do not overstep your position.”
Matias’s mouth opened, and a berry shade colored his skin.
“Matias.” I stepped in front of Alex. My father chose Matias as an advisor long before my arranged marriage, and Alex had never seen eye to eye with the man. I needed to defuse the situation before the two came to blows over something so trivial. “We have made our decision. If you wish to speak of wisdom, it would be wise not to argue with your king.”
He smacked his mouth closed with a click. An expression I’d never seen before flashed across his face. It disappeared in a moment, and he fixed a pleasant smile on his lips. Matias dipped into a deep bow.
“I plea forgiveness, My King. Take the time to comfort Queen Belle as she needs. Your people will be pleased to see you in the morning.”
Alex’s gaze tried to burn holes in the man, but he dragged us around Matias in silence. We trekked up the twisting staircase, and I could feel Alex’s anger like the charged moments before a storm.
“He’s been a royal advisor for over thirty years,” Alex said, more to himself than to me. “He knows better than that.”
I squeezed his hand. “He’s worried about me and mourning for my father. Matias cared for him very much.”
We reached the hall that housed the royal suites. The setting sun danced across the orange-toned stones, highlighting them with subtle sparkles. Open space for paintings spread over the walls, but I preferred the natural artwork of the sun across the hall. At the very end, a massive wooden door settled in a rough frame.
I reached for the knob, but Alex caught me. Holding both my hands in his, he leaned his forehead against mine. His skin wired a current through me, already tantalizing me with his mere presence.
“He’s gone, Belle.” My name was music from his lips. “He can never hurt you again. You’re safe.”
Relief poured over me like an icy bath. A weight in my chest I had carried forever suddenly disappeared. I had seen my father’s body, had dissolved his skin with acid and watched his casket lowered into the dirt, but it was Alex’s words that set me free from the hell of my childhood. They were more than a simple statement. They held a promise.
He cupped my cheeks and wiped the cool trickle of tears from my face.
“I love you,” I said, giving him my own promise.
He tilted my head up, and I rose to my tiptoes. My chest tightened as he drew near, and I closed my eyes. The warmth of his breath, tinted a bit with his favorite wine, brushed across my skin as his lips met mine.
Slow and tender, Alex kissed away the pains I’d borne for twenty-two years. His mouth wrapped around mine and drew me out from the solid walls I’d been forced to build. Soft strokes of his fingers erased the pain my cheeks had once felt and replaced them with careful, trusting tides of a gentle river.
The river turned inside me, the soothing flow coursing into something faster, something that longed to be caught.
I pulled Alex against me and slipped my hands into the waistband of his breeches. The black button-up shirt surrendered to my pulls, and his soft skin arched into my reaching palms. I dragged my fingertips across his chest, lingering at the ridges of smooth muscle. He groaned into me and turned his head, deepening the kiss. I opened my mouth and ran my tongue along his, savoring the taste of fresh herbs and a hint of bitter wine.
The ribbon at my back fell to the floor, and the front of my dress loosened. Alex’s fingers brushed along the edge of the fabric, persuading the material far enough to afford him a look down my top. A blush stroked my cheeks, but the need in Alex’s eyes washed away any budding embarrassment.
It took Alex two tries to find his voice.
“Should we take this inside, My Queen?” he asked, setting a new kiss on my neck. I turned my head to make space for him, and a tingle trailed down my spine.
“Yes, please.” I couldn’t wait any longer. Desire and anticipation burned hot in my core.
Alex opened the door and we tumbled inside. One of his arms wrapped around my shoulders, and the other reached blindly behind us to pull the door closed.
Barely inside, a dash of movement caught my eye, and I stilled in Alex’s arms. The single lantern on the bedside table illuminated a shallow silver tray where a golden teapot perched beside a tall goblet. A figure dressed in black with a hood over their face, silhouetted against the fading sun from the balcony doorway, shuffled to put the cap on a small glass vial.
“Alex!” I pulled on my husband’s arm, and he turned toward the intruder.
Alex’s brow settled over his dark eyes. He looked between the goblet on the table and the slim vial the intruder had frozen in his hands.
“Were you trying to poison us then?” Alex asked.
The pounding in my chest faded away, along with the rest of the room. The world pinpointed to the hooded figure in black and the vial in their hands.
“Poison,” Alex had said.
The attacker pulled out a silver sword and lunged across our bed. One hand planted on the mattress, they cleared the jump in a single bound and landed on their feet. Less than ten feet away, they sprang toward us and slashed the sword at my face.
The blade streaked impossibly slow. It blurred as it neared me. My magic twisted in my soul and bubbled to the surface under my skin, but I did not reach for it. Every spell, every chant I’d ever known faded from my mind like ink on paper abandoned in the hot sunlight.
The sword would cut through me, and I would let it.
Alex jumped in front of me, putting his body between me and the blade, a small dagger in his hand.
“Belle, get out of here.” He pushed me away as the sword slashed by again. I backpedaled and stepped on the hem of my gown. The fabric tangled in my feet, and my balance teetered. I grabbed at the stool beside my vanity, but it was too late. The ground hit my back, and my breath escaped in a whoosh.
Alex slashed at the intruder with his knife. The short weapon forced him much closer to the assailant than I would have liked. They ducked Alex’s strike and swung their blade low, but Alex stepped away at the last minute, and the edge cut through empty air.
“Belle.” Alex blocked the next strike and sparks danced between their blades. “Go get help.”
Yes, yes, of course. A precaution, most likely, since Alex could easily defend us both. I scrambled to my knees. The heavy dress fell halfway down my waist, and I tugged my feet through the opening. My thin, white slip was all that prevented me from nudity, but I couldn’t find proper royal modesty at the moment.
“No!” A woman’s voice came from the trespasser’s mouth. She slashed at Alex, and he yelled out. Blood blossomed through a new cut on his pants. The intruder ran past him toward the door.
I was closer, but she had greater speed. I lunged for the knob, and her gloved hand wrapped around it first. She raised her sword to block my path.
Less than two steps of space separated us. Her silver blade sat between us, as sturdy as a brick wall but much more dangerous. Her teeth pressed into a hard, white line, and from this angle, I could see beneath the looming hood. Blue eyes I didn’t recognize stared out, awash with an angry glow.
“Is this my queen?” She asked, and her breath smelled of something much stronger than wine. “The one who stands still when Death sends an invitation?” She flicked to glance at Alex as he slowly neared. “Or should he greet the king first?”
Alex! No!
Maybe my earlier assumption was wrong. Maybe Alex couldn’t defend us both, and I would be forced to watch him die. Shock rolled through me, and I finally reached for my magic as she spun back to Alex. His knife dipped close, aiming for her heart. I tracked her blade. The arching sword would be too fast to stop. Alex could cut through her chest, but he would also lose his head.
My magic surged around me, a thundercloud of power, and I pushed it toward the assailant. She hesitated for a moment as the magic licked across her skin. Realizing her peril, she put more power into the strike, urging her blade to move faster.
Too late.
I pulled the magic around her and willed it into reality. The cloud turned to heavy mist, then to tight coils wrapped around her limbs. I pulled the coils hard, but she heaved against them. I tightened them until she became caught in my net, too tangled to escape.
Her muscles locked beneath the weight of my power, but not before the tip of the sword scratched along Alex’s skin.
He plunged the knife into her chest. A hiss of air escaped her lungs. Her body quivered in my hold, and a split slice of power scattered the room as death claimed his victim—not the one the stranger had intended.
Alex stepped away and I dropped my magic. The intruder’s body fell to the ground, and blood pooled on the flat sandstones.
Alex grabbed my arms and looked me up and down. “Are you okay?”
My frantic heart pulsed in my ears. My throat tightened, and I wondered if I could speak at all.
“Yes.” The words sounded distant. “I think so.”
Alex squeezed me, then knelt beside the woman’s body. He turned her over and pulled the glass vial from her robes.
The label clearly read hemlock.
“Poison. Useless for vampires.” Alex rubbed the paper sticker with his thumb. He flicked his gaze up at me. “Someone’s trying to kill you.”
I pressed my lips and nodded. It was the logical conclusion. Only one poison could kill vampires, and the recipe for Lexliv remained safely hidden in the depths of the catacombs.
Alex searched the dead woman at my feet. At first, his hands moved swiftly and confidently. Then a tremor began at his fingertips and spiraled up his arms.
He paused and flipped his palms over as though studying them may provide an answer to a long-sought question.
Panic caught in my chest. “Alex, what’s wrong?”
He turned to me, but his dark eyes held a far-away gaze.
“Belle…” he murmured, then his eyes rolled back in his head, and Alex slumped to the ground beside the life he’d taken.
I wasn’t the target at all.
She had been trying to kill Alex.
I screamed.
* * *
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