Cold Queen - K Webster Page 0,29
In the meantime, I’ll have my servants make you something warm.”
Her eyes lift to the crown I’ve placed on my head. Then, excitement glimmers in her eyes.
“Long ago,” she says with a smile, “I could create impenetrable diamondblades like my father and his father and so on. As soon as I’d earned my gift, it was taken away abruptly.” Her fingers wiggle and she looks down at them. “But I feel it, Ryke. I feel the ice and steel in my veins.” She lifts her gaze to meet mine. “I think I can do it again.”
The fact this queen lost her gift in the first place sickens me.
I can’t imagine losing my fire making abilities.
“Let’s see,” I encourage.
Her hand glows bright blue much like mine turns orange-red. The hiss of what sounds like a stone against steel grinds out in unison with the diamondblade that slides from her pointer finger. It’s sharp and strong. This blade will never melt. I take it in my hand and break it away before setting it on the bed.
“Again, Elzira.”
Over and over, she shows me her gift until the bed is littered with her blades. Then, I watch with rapt attention as she forms a circle in the air seemingly from nothing, but I can tell it is from ice. One by one, she attaches her diamondblades to the ring, fastening them with more ice. When she finishes, I realize she’s created a new crown. Tall. Sharp. Severe. Fit for a cruel, powerful queen.
I kneel before her and kiss the back of her hand before rising again. “Allow me,” I rumble, taking the crown from her other hand. I place the heavy crown on her head. It fits perfectly.
“I’ll escort you,” I tell her, offering her my arm.
She lifts a brow. “We’re going down together as a united front?”
“We need to be if we intend on combining our armies and defeating a horde of The Damned.”
“I want to see Yanna,” she reminds me as she loops her arm with mine.
“You will see her. I don’t break my promises.”
Seemingly pleased with that answer, she allows me to guide her from the room. A sense of male satisfaction washes over me at seeing her white clothes hidden way beneath my black cape. It’s as though she belongs to me. The thought thrills me.
I came here to marry a princess and find a way into the Hidden Lands in search of a war.
Instead, I fucked a queen and am uniting in a battle with her.
I’m a man of opportunity.
We enter the dining room, earning the stares of everyone. Danser barely lifts a brow in subtle amusement. Both Jorshi’s and Fayden’s eyes widen in surprise. What has me wanting to thump my chest in pride is the way Cavon’s green eyes burn from behind his white mask. I wish I could see all of his features. Oh, to be inside that man’s head for one second as he watches me claim what he wishes were his.
“The status of The Damned,” I bark out in greeting as I guide Elzira to the head of the table. I pull out her chair for her to sit.
“Upon us,” Jorshi reports. “Before nightfall.”
“Do we know the size?” I ask, settling in the chair beside Elzira.
Jorshi explains what the scout saw. Not quite as many as our two armies combined, but doubly ruthless and savage. The Damned aren’t deterred by the cold. An arrow to the chest won’t stop them. Each soulless bastard has to be mowed down with brute force. We can’t give them any leeway or they’ll overrun us before we know it.
“There’s also word of the Moral War,” Jorshi says, his voice low. “It wages on beyond The Damned.”
“Do we know anything of the beasts who feast on the humans?” I’ve been studying rumors for years, trying to learn more about what’s in the unknown lands.
“Ravenous and brutal. Male.”
“Where are the females?”
“No information on that, my king.”
He continues to speak of what he’s learned from the scout. I’m listening to his report when my eye catches a servant’s. She’s one of the heavy women from last night who brought my sweet queen cold water to bathe in. Locking eyes on her, I watch her every move. Other servants place familiar dishes in front of us, whereas Elzira is given a plate with three small pastries lined in a row.
Before she can walk away, I grab the woman’s thick wrist. “What is this?”
Elzira absently reaches for the pastry, but I drag