Capture the Crown (Gargoyle Queen #1) -Jennifer Estep Page 0,91

turned toward me. Startled, I lurched back, and my heel hit one of the vines that had snaked across the flagstones. I stumbled sideways and would have fallen if Leonidas hadn’t grabbed me around the waist and yanked me back toward him. I instinctively reached out, fisting my hands in the front of his jacket.

We both froze, staring into each other’s eyes. His hands curled around my waist, the heat of his palms scorching my skin even through the thick fabric of my dress. My fingertips tingled in response, not from any magic, but simply from his strong, muscled body so close to my own, his warm breath caressing my cheeks, and his honeysuckle scent sinking deeper and deeper into my lungs with every ragged breath I took.

Leonidas stared down at me with an unreadable expression, his face cold and calm, although his eyes betrayed him. Emotions flashed like lightning strikes in his amethyst gaze—hunger, desire, and a raw, aching need that made every part of me clench with anticipation.

His gaze dropped to my lips, and his hands tightened. The motion was almost imperceptible, and he didn’t draw me any closer, but I felt as though I were standing in a high, high tower, about to step off the side and fall into . . . Well, I wasn’t quite sure what.

My destruction, most likely.

A bit of self-preservation rose up inside me, breaking the strange spell his eyes and the moonlight had cast, and I yanked myself out of his arms. This time, I avoided the vines and stepped back without tripping. I started to take another step back, but my heel brushed up against another liladorn vine—one that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

I froze again, staring down at the vine. It seemed to be moving ever so slightly, as though it was trying to nudge me back toward Leonidas.

What are you doing? I sent the thought out to the vine, wondering if it could actually hear me, if it was actually aware enough to understand my words.

Helping, a soft voice rasped back to me.

Helping? How? By playing matchmaker like Delmira had earlier? No, that was ridiculous. Why would the vines care about my love life? Unless . . . they were somehow mirroring Delmira’s thoughts and desires, or doing what they thought she wanted them to. No, that idea seemed even more ridiculous. It was far more likely that being in Myrkvior was slowly but surely driving me mad.

Madness might be preferable to the desire still surging through my body.

The vine slithered toward me again. I jerked my foot away from it and moved over to an open space in the courtyard, as far away from the liladorn as I could get.

Leonidas frowned. “Is something wrong?”

I shook my head, not wanting to admit that the vines had spoken to me. “No.”

Disbelief flickered across his face, but he jerked his head. “The rookery is this way.”

I eyed the vines again, making sure they were going to leave me alone, then followed him.

Leonidas led me out the far side of the courtyard and through several more. He didn’t speak, and neither did I, and the only sounds were our footsteps scuffing across the flagstones. At one point, we passed the throne room. Leonidas paused and stared in through the windows. I peered inside too.

Milo, Corvina, and Emperia were still drinking and talking to some nobles, and it didn’t seem as though they were in any hurry to leave. I scanned the rest of the room, but I didn’t spot Reiko anywhere. I wondered if the dragon morph had also taken this opportunity to skulk around the palace. Probably.

“Let’s go,” Leonidas said.

We hurried through that courtyard and a couple more beyond it. Eventually, we reached two double doors made of liladorn, similar to the ones outside Delmira’s chambers. The doors soared more than seven stories into the air, making them impossibly heavy. Leonidas waved his hand, and they easily swung open, although I thought that had more to do with the liladorn obeying the prince’s command than the strength of his magic. I shivered. Either way, it was unnerving.

Leonidas strode through to the other side, and I trailed along behind him.

“And this,” he said, pride and joy filling his voice, “is the rookery.”

I looked up and let out a startled gasp. We were in an enormous open-air tower dimly lit by strings of soft white fluorestones. Liladorn vines twined through the gray stone walls, which featured dozens and dozens of hollowed-out