The cold enveloped me.
Make it to the line of snow,I urged myself, continuing until my stocking feet met the light dust of white, three steps away from the top.
I didn’t have it in me to shift, regardless of how much stubborn pride I had as a Goddess and a woman fighting for her freedom.
No.
It was notthisday I’d escape my prison.
But soon,I told myself.
I leaned against the stone wall, sliding down, watching the starless sky darken and listening to the silence only a night of snowfall can bring. My gown pooled around me in a trail of black and roses sprinkled in soft white snow.
It was beautiful, really.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever appreciated the calm fall of ice to the earth. The blanket it lay over everything, quieting the world to sleep like a timeless lullaby.
Resting my head against the stone, I closed my eyes, promising myself the chill would keep me from falling asleep and freezing to death. Minutes passed and my mind wanderedback to that place in my dreams—my wings encased in ice. Searing pain, burning, blazing, then a form over me, heavy, a mouth over my skin.
I understood now what it was.
Whoit was.
“You’re supposed to killme, not yourself.”
I jerked my head, eyes flashing towards the voice.
Arthur sat a few steps down on the opposite side with his back against the stone. “I told you to get some rest.”
I closed my eyes again, numb to the cold around me. “You cannot tell me what to do, King of Heartstone.”
He uttered a foul curse under his breath as he shuffled up the stairs. I couldn’t get away from this man. Even if I’d wanted to run, he’d have caught me this night. I was too weak to even try and so, like a child, he lifted me into his arms with the ease of a man who spent his nights as a rabid Beast. He bundled me close to his chest and took me away from the cold. I recognized the dream all over again. His body was so warm, heating mine and melting the snow collected on my gown, now dripping a trail of water along the corridor floors.
I couldn’t speak so I remained helpless, the fight in me gone as I wrapped my arms around his neck.
“What? No resistance from the Ravenfae Goddess?” he grumbled. “Pushed yourself past the point of arguing?”
“Tomorrow,” I whispered.
His chest rumbled and he pulled me tighter to it. I moaned at the heat and the act of being held as I’d never been in all my centuries.
As the night faded and I gave up keeping awake, I heard Piffle’s squeak, a door opening, and the great exhale of a man who read poetry, pulled women into the Underrealm, and melted the stubborn will of a Goddess of the Veil.
CHAPTER 24
Arthur
Reshina took a week to recover.
The Beast urged me to her door every night of our transition, and I’d wake to Piffle’s teacart squeaking down the corridor each morning. I never went inside her room. Just nodded to the Changlingfae and left.
She didn’t leave that week, finally accepting that if she was going to do anything other than collapse, she needed to regain her strength and actually rest.
Anyone else on the brink of death from that bite would have taken a month to recover. But not her.
Not Reshina.
I stood at the entrance of the western corridor, contemplating the days since she’d bled onto my land. As I peered into the dark abyss, a cool breeze brushed my cheeks and the stench of unkempt bodies hit my nose, watering my eyes. I’d been down there twice before.
