Apparently, I’m going to have to pull every answer out of this taciturn woman. I couldn’t have met a gossip eager to overshare; that would have been too easy.
“For what purpose?” I grit out.
The old woman tilts her head. “Don’t you know? The prince you arrived with has rescued the sleeping maiden. He is to marry Princess Aurora three days hence.” Her rocker creaks. Needles clack. “I guess you don’t remember. Fever wiped it all away.”
Idoremember. Everything.
I fought to get that ungrateful fop all the way to the top of the cursed mountain, and he left me here to live or die as nature saw fit because he couldn’t wait to get his dick into Briar’s gold-plated pussy.
Iwas the one who saved her. Me.
Memory sweeps over me like a brushfire. That kiss. Fuck, it wasn’t a fever dream. It was real.
I kissed her and begged her to take me, and she said yes. Never mind that at the time I thought she was the goddess of death. Briar’s kiss kept me clinging to life. I couldn’t leave until she came for me…
And she never came back.
They healed me with magic. No wonder I feel like I’ve been on a ten-day bender. Humans can wield magic if we’re very careful. Healers use it as medicine, but some witches andwarlocks sell the stuff for other purposes, and regular use can cause addiction in humans.
Like my mother, the woman who kept using magic while pregnant with me, and gave me my heightened senses along with my speed, quick reflexes, and strength. Still human, but an abomination.
All I know about the woman who brought me into the world is that she was a whore who left me on the doorstep of a foundling home, screaming and shaking in withdrawal. I doubt she even knew the name of whatever useless man fathered me.
Magic makes you feel good for a few hours and then miserable for days. In the right hands it has medicinal uses, but every time a healer uses it on me, I’m left wondering whether it was worth the potential of getting hooked.
I should be wary of getting hooked on Briar’s magic. I’m afraid it’s already too late. The urge to find her has me shoving my few possessions into a pack and saddling my horse.
“You’re leaving?” the old woman asks, watching me.
I don’t respond. I’m too seething with fury, and determined to get answers about why my one friend left me to die.
Alistair has lost my loyalty. I’m of half a mind to take his woman purely out of spite.
Briar
Ten days of silence.
Of not knowing whether Killian lives.
Of pretending I’ll marry Prince Alistair, while constantly finding ways to fend him off without hurting his pride. Mynerves are frayed to the breaking point—and that’s not factoring in all the princess nonsense.
Today, I am formally being recognized as Isanthian royalty and therefore worthy of marriage to the crown prince of Belterre. My sudden appearance raised a lot of eyebrows, and there have been messengers sent far and wide to confirm my identity. The title matters to everyone except me—and the man I can’t figure out how to banish from my mind.
Did Killian survive the infection? If so, where is he?
Part of me loathes myself for caring. Profoundly. Deeply. That kiss infected me.
Alistair’s done everything within his power to hasten our wedding day, whereas I have dragged my feet every step of the way. Requesting changes to the design of my wedding dress. Complaining about how the tiara pinches my temples and gives me a headache; I must have a new one made. Anything I can do to delay this wedding I have done with a smile on my face and a firm reminder that I am an untouched maiden who will not give in to a man before her wedding night.
But I’m running out of ideas, and time.
My refusals only seem to whet the prince’s appetite. Cowering in my room is the only way I can avoid feeling hunted through the halls of Belterre Castle.
And then there’s the problem of the king.
“You look stunning, Rose.”
The king takes both of my hands in his, staring deeply into my eyes. His silver hair flutters on a light breeze beneath his heavy gold crown. His features are unmistakably those of Alistair’s sire. You wouldn’t know it to look at him how sick he is. The only evidence is a cough that wracks him, which he is careful to keep out of public view whenever it happens.
