“Show-off.”
He chuckled. “You love it.”
I shot him a bemused grin. “You shouldn’t be sneaking around the bedrooms of royalty.”
He brushed his hand against mine, and his face flushed slightly. “See, that’s the thing. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
A lump rose in my throat. My heart was pounding so hard, it felt like my chest was vibrating. I couldn’t lead him on. My future was crystalized, and emotions would only muddy the waters.
“I’m not interested.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”
I rolled my eyes. “You can tell anyway.”
Lust fluttered in my stomach. I understood why girls pined after him; Jasper was addictive in every sense of the word. He reached up and cupped my face. His gaze fell deep into mine, and the corners of his lips creased upward into an arrogant smirk. “Besides, if you’re wealthy enough, you can have anything you desire.”
I batted his hand away. “Except a crown. That’s only for those of royal blood,” I teased.
His eyes widened. He placed his hand on my waist, despite my discouragement. A spark flamed through me as he closed his hold around me, consuming the space between us.
“You should leave,” I warned and looked around him at the door. “If anyone sees us together...”
He bit down on his bottom lip. “That’s part of the fun.”
“I don’t like you,” I said, at an attempt of strengthening my resolve.
His breaths quickened. “Yes, you do.”
I didn’t get a chance to catch my breath before he placed his lips on mine. I wanted to resist, but something between us glowed too bright for us to ignore. He was sarcastic, a flirt, and far too reckless, but that kiss was the first thing to make me feel alive in the longest time. My stomach flipped. I felt giddy as we pulled apart an inch. He brushed the tip of his nose against mine, and I smiled. It felt familiar...
I gasped. “The reading,” I said aloud, acquiring an odd look from Jasper. I had felt the kiss; it was part of my destiny. I looked at Jasper doe-eyed. Was he my future? My fate?
My father’s voice sliced through the room, cutting through everything else. “What is this?”
“Father.” I gasped. “It-it’s not what it looks like.” My brain faltered as a flash of silver caught my eye.
Jasper pulled away, still staring at me. Blood gushed through his white shirt like veins spreading outward from the end of the blade. The scarlet liquid leaked through his fingers as he pressed his hands against the wound. The light paled from his eyes. I wanted to scream, but I was in disbelief. Fae couldn’t die. They were immortal.
“Winter...” Jasper hesitated. The sword was wrenched back, and Jasper collapsed to the ground like a puppet that had its strings cut.
My eyes met my father’s, the blue in his irises scattering the scene. Warning laced his stare, his nostrils flared, and he dropped the metal weapon, which clashed against crimson-soaked stone.
Jasper’s body turned to ash, and he ceased to exist.
Shock erased the next few hours. I couldn’t remember how I ended up locked away in a room, lying on a bed in the fetal position, and sobbing. Until my mother came in, sitting on the side of my bed, explaining how we needed to go along with my father’s lie−that Jasper had run from the castle with one of us and gone to an island somewhere. Dark fae and sorcerers didn’t have official relationships, at least until my betrothal with Blaise, so it could be believable. Her eyebrows pinched downward when she told me how I could never tell another soul what happened.
All I could think about was the stolen moments Jasper and I had found—the flirting but never touching, until that night. The reading from Morgana lingered in my mind. My hands tingled, and my eyelids were heavy. They burned when they were open and ached when closed. I rubbed my wrists and scratched my arms, anything to take away the pain. Jasper had been murdered because of me. The costliest of all kisses.
THREE
I squirmed in my bed as the nightmares loosened their chains, sending me back to reality. I hadn’t bothered opening my eyes until something wet landed on my cheek. I reached up and touched my skin. Drops of scarlet, thick and fresh, fell slowly from the panel above. I turned my head and looked at one of the columns of my four-post bed. Blood had traveled upward, swirling around the knots and crevices, accumulating in a pool above my head. I moved away in time for the next droplet to miss when it fell, then sank into the white silk sheets. The whole thing reeked of magic. I rubbed my fingers together; it was silky, a blood spell. I’d read about them before. They were used as a warning, a prophecy that death was coming to a family, but who would cast such a prediction, especially when it was considered treason?
I stared at my red-stained fingerprints and was transported to the last time I saw Jasper. To how he had crumpled when the king cut him down. It had been months. His murder had never fully sunk in. I still wasn’t sure how he died. Immortality couldn’t exist if he had so easily turned to ash.
My thoughts were disrupted by shouting coming from outside the door. Voices rose, growing louder by the second. I got out of bed and curled my toes; my feet were cold against the ground. I walked to my arched window and looked down. The crowd that had gathered outside the castle gates swelled steadily. The day was barely beginning. A pale fog had amassed through the courts, leaving everything shrouded under a thick layer of gray. Heavy droplets of rain fell, hammering against the stained glass on my window, crisscrossed with lead. Propping both my hands up under my chin, I stared at the cloud cover. My heart fluttered when a crow flew into my window, hitting it with a loud thud. I jumped backward. It circled downward, after leaving a red splat on the glass.
They were an omen, another sign death was near. I blinked twice, trying to make sense of the insanity that had followed my waking and wondered if I was, in fact, still dreaming. For good measure, I pinched my arm, but nothing changed.
Screams rang through the halls, followed by heavy footsteps and unintelligible shouting.
I pressed my eyes shut and settled back onto my bed. The blood drops fell faster as my door creaked open.
“Bring the princess,” the head guard, Adius, ordered from outside my door.
Curling my knees up to my chest, I sank my head and curled into a ball. One guard lifted me over his shoulder and carried me out. I pounded my fists against his back to put me down, but all he muttered was “king’s orders.”
Amassed fear and anxiety filtered through the castle. When I opened my eyes again, we had arrived at the throne room. Above the entrance was the quote engraved into stone, fear not the enemy, for they will fall.
The doors were opened for us. I was carried inside behind Adius. It was dark in the room. The lamps were yet to be lit. I was placed down in front of the thrones, which sat on a platform with three steps on each side. My mother and father sat upon them. André stood next to them, armored in steel. His ocean-blue eyes lit with happiness when he saw me.
I shifted my gaze to my father, whose expression hardened on seeing mine. He gripped his staff and stood. “It is time,” he growled.
His magic shone blue and black, dancing around his hand and staff with dizzying speed. I could tell he was furious; our magic reflected our emotions. My brother followed him.