The Frozen Prince (The Beast Charmer #2) - Maxym M. Martineau Page 0,97

bearable, but the emotional agony… Each tear was a special kind of torment as I realized I could no longer pretend to be someone else. I could no longer keep Leena safe by denying my past. My identity as the Frozen Prince had finally been exposed.

As the last of the threads dissipated, my body shuddered. I didn’t have a mirror to confirm what I was feeling, but I knew just by looking at my hands. At the way my skin was somehow…different. As if the magic had even been fooling me all these years, making me think I could lead a life where Aleksander was dead and Noc alone remained.

I’d believed it. Until now.

The scalding force of the Silvis’s magic hissed over me, and something told me that if I tried to hide again, it wouldn’t work. She’d never allow it.

She lowered her staff and smiled. “Consider yourself realized. The gods have recognized you as the next true heir to the throne of Wilheim. You are worthy of being called prince and one day king.”

The magic in her garnet stare went out like a flame, leaving me cold and utterly raw.

“Noc?” Leena went to cup my face between her hands and paused. Slowly, she fingered a lock of my hair. One that was now undeniably shock-white instead of raven-black. Unease stirred in my chest. She’d always known me as Noc. What would she think of this frozen shell?

Swallowing the strange thickness in my throat, I met her probing stare. “It can’t be that bad.”

Leena blinked. And then she laughed. Real and honest and true. Reaching her arms around me, she locked her hands behind my neck and pressed a solid kiss against my cheek. “No. It’s not bad at all. I like the real you.”

And so did Zane. The image of a snake surfaced in my mind. It looked at me with knowing, gleaming eyes, and I shivered. I didn’t want the throne. I didn’t want to be the Frozen Prince of Wilheim. I wanted to be Noc, guild master of Cruor. Leena’s anam-cara. I wanted a life entirely separate from the one I used to live. And yet, no matter how hard I fought against my blood, it seemed the gods and Zane couldn’t be swayed.

Meeting Leena’s gaze, I brushed my knuckles along her jaw. I’d always told her I was dangerous. But being Aleksander Nocsis Feyreigner was so much more than that. It wasn’t just her life on the line, it was the Council’s. All of Hireath. Cruor too. These allies of mine… They were in danger simply because they knew who I was, not because they agreed to support my claim. But none of that mattered to Varek, and the moment he laid eyes on me, identity revealed, he’d come after us with the force of a god.

And there’d be no stopping him.

Twenty-Three

Leena

Before, Noc had been a vision. But now… It was hard to focus when he stood so near. The coal of his former self had been shined down to the diamond inside, and he had the presence of a frozen god. White hair so bright it burned against the backdrop of the snow. Ice-blue stare jagged and sharp. The high angles of his face were the same, but there was something about him that was crisper. As if the glamour of the ring had sheathed not only his hair and eyes, but the true beauty of his appearance. The lithe muscles racing down his neck called to me. I wanted him strewn out beneath me so I could trace my fingers over his skin. Discover if all the grooves and contours were the same or heightened like the glass cut of his jaw.

“Leena.” Oz nudged me with his shoulder. “I know it’s a shock, but it’s time.” With a thick finger, he pointed to the swollen moon above.

“Right.” My skin flushed as heat touched my cheeks. “Stand back. I’m not familiar with an Azad, so it’s best if you leave this to me.”

My assassins retreated to a boulder several paces away and waited, their gazes trained expertly on me. Settling into a crouch, I focused on becoming one with the environment. If Azads were as flighty as Gaige insinuated, no manner of offering would summon them if I couldn’t keep my presence muffled. I’d save the rosewood glow until one went after the fruit, and then it was on with the charm and off with Noc’s oath.

My symbol throbbed with anticipation beneath my glove. Hope.