The Ice Queen (Dark Queens Book 3) (15 page)

“Well, until I find the key to our release I suppose.”

“I think you mean
we
.”

“We?”

She looked at him. His thumb brushed the corner of her cheek as he tucked a thin curl of hair behind her ear.

“We.” He nodded. “We have a month to find this key. And no clues. You’ll need help.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Why would you help me? I put you in this predicament in the first place.”

“No. Just like what happened with Josiah of Scarta, none of this is your fault, Luminesa. But you came here when you didn’t need to. You’ve built us a fortress to keep us safe from the cold outside, it would be my honor to assist you in anyway I could.”

She’d never known centaurs could be so honorable.

Or maybe...maybe it wasn’t all centaurs...maybe it was this male. Alador.

Luminesa was about to say something, when her words left her because the next thing she knew the castle had been rocked, booming thunderously and feeling as though it was going to fall down around their heads anytime now.

With a cry, they both shot to their feet, racing outside just as the next wave ice demons came bearing down on them.

Alador

F
or the next week he and Luminesa had developed a rhythm of sorts. Fighting the ice demons at night, while during the day they kept company with the children.

Her yeti’s had worked far better than he could have imagined. Twice now they’d scented out the dregs of the Goblin’s dark magick, and any catastrophe’s had been easily routed as they’d been able to gather up the dust before any harm could come to the children again.

But nights of hardly any sleep, and days filled with keeping a constant eye out on the children was taking its toll on both of them. Luminesa’s already pale skin now seemed impossibly washed out, and it was easy enough to read the exhaustion lacing her bones.

Her need was a constant ache in his chest. Alador wanted to give her at least one afternoon to relax, the children had suffered no further attacks from the Goblin since, and now seemed as good a time as any to give them all a day off.

Even if only temporarily.

“Well,” Gerda tossed out her arms, “how do I look Alador?” He’d instructed that she dress in her nicest gown for the day.

Luminesa had done a fine job of feeding, clothing, and sheltering the children. She’d even created games for them to play at. But there’d been far too many days trapped indoors. They’d begun bickering, fighting over toys, clothing, who got to pet Baatha first, etc.

They were getting on one another’s nerves, but Alador couldn’t blame them. Human children much like centaur children needed the freedom to be children sometimes.

And while there was no lack of food, Alador himself felt the need to hunt, trap, or simply just explore the woods beyond. He was a creature built for the outdoors and understood the children’s suffocation for he suffered it too.

Gerda twirled, causing the cream colored folds of her thick gown to twinkle softly from the natural glow of sunlight bouncing off the ice room.

“You look lovely,” Alador nodded.

Then he glanced toward Kai, who sat on a corner bench with his chin in his fist staring glumly out the window. The boy was dressed in trousers made of deerskins, and a thick parka lined with white fur. 

“Kai,” he said slowly, walking toward the boy, “will you eat nothing?”

His bowl of gruel still remained untouched.

“I don’t want food,” he snapped, green eyes looking up at Alador with a mixture of anger and resentment. “I want to go home. Now.”

Alador wished he could send the children back now. Every fiber of him wished they weren’t here, but he simply couldn’t.

“We will, soon. I vow it.”

The little boy’s nostrils flared. “When! You lie. I do not think you and her are looking at all. She has punished me and now I’ll never leave.”

His little foot kicked out, knocking it into the ice table and causing several cracks to spider-web along its top.

“Kai, acting out changes nothing. When I tell you we are doing all we can, you have to trust me. Believe me, I do not want you here anymore than you wish to be here.”

The little boy sniffed and looked down at his hands forlornly. Alador didn’t know if he was getting through to the boy or not, but he hoped so.

A chill breeze thick with the electrifying scent of frosted berries and pine suddenly tickled his nose. Smiling immediately, he turned, and was stunned into silence when she swept in.

Luminesa wore a gown comprised of nothing but millions of glittering snowflakes threaded together. Forming almost like it’d been painted on so that every lush curve of her body was on full display to him. A long silvery train trailed behind her as she walked toward them. Her silvery-blond spilled down her back in soft waves.

Her hair changed colors depending on her moods, a trait he found utterly adorable. Then again, he found everything adorable about her lately.

Her eyes sought his immediately, and when she smiled, there was a shyness to it that made his pulse stutter.

“Good morning, horse,” she greeted him, then giggled when he growled.

Somehow it’d become their morning routine, he wasn’t sure how or when, but he looked forward to it every morning.

Slapping one arm across his chest, he bowed deeply toward the woman who was coming to mean so much to him in such a short amount of time.

“Good morning, my queen.”

Long spiky lashes tipped in frost, fluttered gently against her cheekbones as she nodded back at him. Normally they’d break their morning fast together, enjoying a few moments of quiet and peace before the children descended.

He wasn’t sure what she would do seeing them here now. Make her excuses, turn and leave, or...

Her smile was as skittish as that of a shy, little rabbit coming out of its hole when she turned toward Gerda.

There’d been only rare occasions when she’d spoken to the children so far. Threading her fingers together in front of her she said, “you look beautiful, Gerda. I hope my clothing choices meet with your approval.”

The little girl bobbed her head enthusiastically. “The dress is so fine. Not even mama could have made me something quite this perfect, and her being a seamstress and all.”

Luminesa’s shoulders visibly relaxed under the girl’s enthusiasm and a true smile stole her lips this time.

Alador’s skin tightened to watch it. His already speeding pulse hammered violently in his ears.

He was falling in love with this creature, this woman of ice. He recognized the signs for what it was. Every night he brought out that little miniature she’d crafted of him, tracing the clean lines of it and imagining that someday she might trace his own body in the same way.

He also knew that what he felt for Luminesa was a rarity amongst his people. Intermixing wasn’t often kindly looked upon, and only the bravest ever dared contemplate it, let alone act upon the impulse.

Luminesa turned toward Kai. And without saying a word, she walked to his side and held out her hand to him.

The boy looked up with confusion in his eyes, but after only a moment’s hesitation slipped his small hand through hers.

“Since you’re both so well dressed, I can only assume that you wish to explore the castle grounds?”

She asked the children, but looked at Alador as she said it.

Gerda squealed, clapping her hands enthusiastically. “Oh may we, mistress? I’m dreadfully bored in this castle.”

“Gerda,” Alador gently corrected, “remember that we could have been left to fend for ourselves if not for her.”

The reminder immediately quelled the child’s curt honesty.

“It’s okay,” Luminesa said, “truth be told, I’ve grown a bit bored myself. And there does seem to be a nice break in the weather for once. But do understand that unlike most parts of my territory, I cannot completely control the weather here. We shouldn’t stray far from the castle in case things worsen again.”

Alador would have liked to have run many miles this afternoon, stretch his legs and work his muscles hard, but her advise was sage.

As one they traveled toward the castle’s entrance, the children both hanging on to Luminesa’s hands.

She’d begun warming up. Literally.

Her flesh the first night had still held the nip of winter chill to it, but every night since he and she had begun meeting in the solarium to discuss their day and where to explore the next day for the key, he’d begun to notice the change in her.

Even her cheeks blazed with color now.

Her magic was still as potent as ever, but she no longer covered herself in a rim of ice.

Last night, when he’d once more found his head on her shoulder, it’d been all Alador could do not to drop a kiss on her exquisite and flawless neck.

At one point during the night when he’d finally fallen asleep he’d been promptly woken up less than an hour later panting and covered in sweat from one of the most erotic dreams he’d ever had in his life.

His growing desire for her had his emotions in turmoil more often than not. Not only because he wanted to kiss her, but because what if she did not desire him as he did her?

He was half horse. A completely separate species from her, Luminesa was no lover of humans, that much was clear, but in all the stories he’d ever heard of her, he’d never known her to have any sort of lover. Of any kind.

She could be asexual.

It was not unheard of in Kingdom, especially for creatures with powers such as hers. What need did she have of a man when she could make everything she needed with a mere flick of her wrist? She could craft her own man of ice; she’d done it with the maidens.

He frowned, not liking where that train of thought led.

“Alador,” Gerda said with a chipper smile, “Would you give Kai and I a ride?”

Shaking his head free of those distracting thoughts, he looked down at the children, only to note they’d finally arrived at the entrance.

Luminesa stepped back and gestured for him to lift the children up. In one easy swing, he placed first Kai, then Gerda on his hind.

Kai’s little fingers dug into his mane of hair, hanging on tight.

Luminesa was the first to step outside. And when she did she drew a graceful arcing line with her hand, which caused a dazzling rainbow to appear in the unnaturally still and cerulean-colored sky.

Gerda laughed, and when Alador glanced over his shoulder, even Kai had worked up a smile.

Alador followed her, Luminesa was creating a wintery wonderland for the children. Slides and swings of ice. Even a winter garden that bobbed heavily with ivory white flowers sparkling with frost. In moments they were surrounded by such beauty that even he found himself itching to go exploring through the wondrous maze she’d crafted for them.

Smiling, she turned once again toward the children. “Would you like a gift?” she asked.

Both children nodded at once and when Luminesa began to waggle her fingers, Alador knew she was crafting them an image in ice much as the centaur he had resting on his bedroom shelf.

He couldn’t peel his eyes off her, memorizing each plane and groove of her face, from the small rosebud lips tinted a lovely shade of mauve, to her cheeks which were flooded a bright shade of pinkish-blue. To those brilliant eyes of hers that whenever they looked upon him cut him to his very core.

“There,” she said finally, and handed Gerda a fragile looking rose flower that sparkled like freshly polished diamonds in the sunlight.

“Ohhh, mistress,” Gerda breathed, grabbing the flower from her before hugging it tight to her chest. “I will treasure it always.”

Smiling broadly, Luminesa nodded. “Good. And Kai, I do hope you’ll like your gift.”

Then opening her hand, she giggled as an ice-falcon that looked nearly identical to Baatha, screeched loudly before swooping out of her hands to glide along the gentle breeze.

“Down, down, down.” Gerda wiggled on her seat.

“Yes, please,” Kai laughed, reaching his hands out for the ice bird.

“Calm down, children,” Alador said, then took them off. Gerda grabbed hold of Kai’s hand, and immediately they skipped around the snowy garden. Kicking up great big cloud fulls of snow, laughing and chortling along the way.

Alador walked over toward Luminesa who stood absolutely still, watching the children with wonder in her pretty blue eyes.

“They’re having so much fun,” she whispered the second he’d neared her.

This place had been built as a curse, but right now, in this moment, Alador couldn’t make it so, no, this place had become a secret haven that existed only for their enjoyment

A sharp cry rent the air, and upon hearing it, the children jumped, pointing toward the sky and calling out to the real Baatha to come and join them.

The large bird circled once, twice, and then landed beside Kai, dropping a little floppy brown bundle by his foot.

Alador chuckled. “Your bird has brought them a dead mouse.”

Luminesa’s laughter filled the air with effervescence. “It is a gift. Though I’m not quite sure Gerda sees it that way.”

“Ew, Baatha,” she cringed, shuddering as she toed the dead mouse away.

But Kai, bent, picked it up and held out to Baatha. “Come eat, bird.”

“He has a warrior’s spirit,” Alador said.

“Like recognizing like?” she asked him with a sly grin as she glanced over her shoulder at him and again his pulse stuttered in his chest.

“Something like that,” he mumbled, but his mind had shifted yet again.

“Baatha,” Luminesa said in a deep, commanding voice, “keep a sharp eye on the children while they play.”

Her snowy falcon screeched his assent before thrusting himself into the air. The children squealed with delight, chasing him as he flew, waving their arms and demanding he “come down right this instant!”

She and Alador chuckled at the sight.

“Will they be safe?” he asked.

She nodded. “They couldn’t be more safe if we walked with them. Baatha will allow no harm to come to the children.”

“Then in that case...” he said softly and taking a step toward her, brushed his knuckles across her pale, velvety cheek.