Heir of Iron Hearts: Iron Crown Faerie Tales Book 2 Page 3

  He shrugged, leaning against the door like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Just thought you might be interested in finding your best friend. As it happens, I know where she is.”

  “What have you done with her?” Jules snapped. “If you’ve done anything to her, I swear I’ll…”

  The guy chuckled, looking genuinely amused. Well, Jules didn’t think it was very effing funny.

  “Relax, Xena. Your friend is fine. She’s safe. But you’ll never find her. Unless, that is, you know where to look.”

  Jules leaned to the side popping out her hip. “And I suppose you know where she is.”

  A wide smile spread across the elfish slants of his face. “I might. It depends on how badly you want the truth. How far you’re willing to go.”

  Jules was getting more and more pissed off by the second. “Could you please speak English?”

  “I can help you find her,” he said. “In fact, I can lead you right to her.”

  “What’s in it for you?” Jules didn’t trust this arrogant turd for a second, but obviously, she would do anything to find Ivy.

  “I’m so glad you asked,” he said. “If I help you find Ivy Hawthorne, then you will owe me a debt. That means, when I come to collect my debt, you had better deliver.”

  “What kind of debt do you expect me to repay?” Jules asked. “It could be anything.”

  “Yes,” he said. “It could be anything. But I can take you to her right now. You’ll be with her by the end of the night.”

  Jules considered his bargain, her heart racing as she thought it over. There were so many mysteries about Ivy’s life she didn’t know. Did he have the answers?

  “I don’t even know your name,” Jules said. “Why should I trust you?”

  He smiled that same amused smile. “My name,” he said, “is Ardan. And you most definitely shouldn’t trust me. But I can still take you to your friend.”

  Jules stared at him, unable to look away for several moments. She was usually a pretty good judge of character, but this guy was unreal. But if he really could take her to Ivy… She scanned the room for a final time, taking in the packed suitcase, the neatly made bed, the half-opened top drawer. Wherever Ivy had gone, it wasn’t New Hampshire. And she had left in a hurry, taking with her only what she could carry.

  Ivy Hawthorne had been Jules’ best friend since the third grade. If the situation were reversed, Ivy would do whatever it took to find her.

  Jules would do nothing less.

  “When do we leave?” she asked.

  Ardan held out his hand, smirking as Jules hesitated.

  Gathering every ounce of courage she possessed and ignoring the real possibility that this person could be a genuine serial killer, Jules closed the distance between them and clasped his hand.

  Chapter Five

  Ivy braced herself against the chair in front of her window after storming inside and slamming the door. With a series of deep inhales and slow exhales, she managed to calm the pounding of her heart and dry up the tears that stung her eyes.

  She’d been in Winter only a few weeks and already, she’d managed to stumble through her first private audience, insult her fiancé, and fall into Bear’s arms at the first sign of turmoil, which is the one thing she had promised herself she wouldn’t do. It wasn’t fair to Bear. It wasn’t fair to either of them, and feeling his arms around her had only made her new life that much more complicated.

  No sooner had Ivy had finally managed to calm herself than there was a light peck at the door. She didn’t turn around, but she could feel Bear’s eyes on her.

  “Are you alright, Your Highness?” he asked in a soft voice. “I could hear you crying.”

  She nodded without looking at him, resolving instead to stare out the window. But in its reflection, she saw him move away from the door and walk toward her. Then, she felt his hand on her shoulder, pulling gently, until she turned to him.

  “I cannot stand your tears, Ivy. I cannot stand to see the pain you’re in.”

  She leaned her head against his chest, knowing it was forbidden but doing it anyway. When he placed his hand on her back and began rubbing soothing circles, she wound her arms around his waist and pulled him close, listening to the way his heart flew forward when she touched him. His other hand found the back of her neck, and he pressed a gentle kiss into her forehead.

  “How can I marry him?” she whispered. “How will I ever marry someone who is a stranger to me?”

  Bear pulled her closer, and she knew it was the only response he could give her. To speak against Ardan—Queen Lyric’s choice for Ivy—would be the same as speaking against her mother.

  A voice cleared behind them.

  They sprang apart, Ivy’s heart thumping wildly as she tried to compose herself. Slaine and Teagan stood in the doorway, watching them with twisted smiles.

  “Our apologies for interrupting,” Teagan said, sweeping a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. “We came to request an audience with Her Highness, Princess Ivy.”

  Ivy could see Bear swallow, his throat bobbing with the effort. This wasn’t good. The queen had allowed Slaine and Teagan to stay in Winter as long as they made no attempts to contact their mother or interfere with Alena’s punishment. And they had been commanded to apologize to Ivy for their role in the chaos at the Binding Ceremony. Ivy could only assume that was the reason for their visit. Of course, they had chosen that moment to make their appearance.

  “Please come in,” Ivy said.

  She gestured to the two chairs beside her own. With a smirk Slaine walked ahead of her younger sister, circling around Bear, who still stood in the center of the room. She trailed her finger across his chest, stopping in front of him.

  “It’s been a while,” Slaine said with a wry smile. “I haven’t seen you since you left for the human realm to find our long-lost princess.”

  The familiarity of Slaine’s touch made Ivy’s stomach flip, and she was filled with a sudden rage that threatened to betray her. She could feel the temperature drop around her as her power emanated from her unchecked. She took a deep breath to regain control.

  “Won’t you sit down?” she asked sternly.

  Slaine met her eyes with a smirk. Beside her, Teagan bit her lip as if she were biting back laughter conjured up by some secret they shared. Judging by Bear’s uncomfortable reaction, Ivy could guess what the nature of his relationship with Slaine had been before she had come to Faerie. She fought back the bile that rose in her throat with the thought, but she didn’t look away. Finally, Slaine broke the connection and walked slowly to the seating area with Teagan following behind her.

  Ivy exchanged a glance with Bear, who looked worried. Both of Alena’s daughters had seen the embrace they had shared. Ivy didn’t know her cousins or Alena, but she knew enough to realize her private moment with her guard would eventually be used against her.

  “That will be all, Barrett,” she said.

  With a nod, he returned to his post by the door, leaving Ivy alone with her cousins. Straightening her posture, she sat in the chair between Slaine and Teagan.

  “What can I do for you?” Ivy asked.

  “So much for small talk,” Teagan said. “It’s simple, really. Aunt Lyric requested that we apologize to you for our role in ruining your Binding Ceremony, so here we are.”

  Ivy raised her brows and waited.

  “Our humblest apologies,” Slaine added. “Our mother was convinced you were an imposter brought in to fool the entire Winter Court. We are sorry for our role in that test and for our involvement in any act that caused you pain.”

  Ivy nodded, unsure of what she was supposed to say to that. Their words were as false as their smiles, and everything about them—even the way they moved—dripped with sarcasm.

  “As long as you do nothing more to disturb the peace in our Court, you have my forgiveness.” She stared into Slaine’s dark eyes, holding them, she hoped, without fear.

  “Thank you, Your High
ness,” Teagan said. “You are most kind.”

  Ivy nodded and then rose, gesturing toward the door. She had no intention of being alone in a room with Alena’s daughters for any longer than necessary. She hadn’t missed how their eyes darted covetously throughout the room, as if everything inside had been stolen from them.

  Finally, though, the two girls rose and made their way unhurriedly across the floor. Bear opened the door for them, meeting Ivy’s eyes as they exited. She could tell he wanted to come back inside to discuss what had just happened, but he didn’t dare.

  Not after Slain and Teagan had caught them mid-embrace.

  If gossip traveled throughout the Winter Court and beyond, there was a chance Ardan would find out there was a deeper reason she wouldn’t return his affections than he had realized.

  Casting her a final look of regret, Bear pulled the door closed, leaving Ivy alone in her room, the torment she felt her only friend.

  Chapter Six

  Alena tossed aside the book she was reading. Human drivel. What was it about human women that made them so utterly dependent on men?

  Nonsense.

  Men were good for one thing: being manipulated into doing a woman’s bidding.

  Perhaps that was why Alena had never married, why she had urged her daughters never to fall into a man’s trap. Speaking of which…where was King Odhran when she needed him? For weeks, Alena had been sitting in this cold, dark winter prison.

  And why? Because she dared to challenge Lyric? Her dear sister who had lied to her people for seventeen years? A Winter Queen who would spare her own sister’s life out of compassion?

  Weak.

  Time and time again, Lyric chose love in the face of conflict. Any Fae ruler from any of the other courts would have killed Alena the second she was born, or at the very least, sent her to the mortals in the human realm. But not Lyric. Lyric had spared Alena’s life—a spineless act she was likely regretting at that very moment. It was the only thing that gave Alena any satisfaction as she rotted away in the archaic dungeons beneath the castle.

  She wrapped a fur blanket around her shoulders and slid from the mattress Lyric had sent down to make her stint in prison more comfortable. How benevolent. Her own cozy cell. Lost in thought and trying not to worry, Alena began to pace.

  They should be here by now. Their entire plan depended upon the timing. Alena leaned her head against the cold iron of the prison doors, ignoring the dull burning on her cheek and peeked out the far window. It was well after mid-day. Her heart sped forward, her stomach tying itself in fleshy knots. Be still, she told herself. Be still.

  At the end of the hallway, the queen’s guards stood at attention, ready for whatever or whomever might come to Alena’s aid. Unleashing a frustrated breath, Alena collapsed back on the mattress, staring at the stone ceiling of her prison. Somewhere behind her, there was a leak that wriggled through the craggy stones of the castle but froze in the winter air just before hitting the ground with a crystalline plink. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the pull of each breath, as she tried to connect with magic. Still nothing. Unless they broke the wards, Alena would never escape.

  Finally, though, after several agonizing moments, Alena became aware of that familiar buzzing sensation. It rose up from her toes with an electric tingle and settled into her belly, humming like a swarm of Summer Court honeybees. A wicked smile spread slowly over her face as she waited.

  Better late than never. Isn’t that what the humans said? Not that the Fae interacted much with those in the mortal world. Aside from the occasional Unseelie indiscretion, their interference in the lives of humans was practically unheard of. But Alena was about to change all that. As soon as she got out of her sister’s prison.

  Her smile widened with the sound of heavy footsteps, with each distant clink of blade against blade, with each agonized scream of the queen’s faithful guards. When she opened her eyes and rolled to her side, she had the perfect view. The Prince was swathed in magic dark as night that swirled around him like a black ribbon.

  With a twist of his hand and the clenching of his fist, he stole the guard’s breath, choking him with the splendor of his magic, so powerful, it raised the guard several feet from the cold stone floor. With a simple jerk of the prince’s hand, the guard’s neck snapped, and he dropped, lifeless, to the floor.

  The young prince turned toward Alena, reeling in his dark magic. He pushed back the hood of his cloak and smiled at her—that beautiful, arrogant smile. The prince was cruel, yet so easily manipulated.

  “Do you have the girl?”

  “Of course. Both of them.”

  “Well, bring them in.”

  The prince motioned behind him. Alena caught a glimpse of blonde hair just before Violet stepped into the dark hallway with a petite human girl in tow.

  “This is her?” Alena asked.

  “Milady Alena, allow me to introduce Miss Juliet McKinnon, human best friend to the Thorn Princess.”

  “Charmed,” Alena snarked.

  But all humor was lost on the girl, who stared vacantly ahead, aware of nothing, seeing nothing, thanks to the prince’s Unseelie magic.

  “You’ve marked her?”

  “Not yet,” he said. “Just before I present her to Ivy.”

  “Sooner is better,” Alena said.

  “Yes, but she’s still entranced from our journey through the portal. I can’t mark her until she agrees to the bargain. You know the rules. She has to agree without influence of our magic.”

  “And what about you, my former princess?”

  Violet narrowed her pale blue eyes, meeting Alena’s cold stare. “I’ve done what you’ve asked. I’ve made peace with Ivy. I’ve given you my mother’s—the queen’s—schedule. I’ve taken the key. I’ve played my part in this complicated charade—I’ve more than played my part. You almost killed me.”

  “And yet, you’re still alive, thanks to your replacement heir, just as I predicted. We had to see how strong her magic was, and we did.”

  And the fact that Princess Ivy was able to heal Violet without taking the wound herself only proved how powerful she was. They had to act now before Ivy realized her own strength. Pride was Alena’s favorite vice, and in this case, she had used it to get just what she wanted from the wounded human changeling.

  “I believe you’re forgetting the final step,” Alena said.

  “Well? Go ahead,” Ardan hissed.

  Violet looked at him with such malice that if he were a summer blossom, he would have withered beneath her eyes. But then, she slid her gaze to Alena.

  “You have what I need?”

  Alena smiled. “Well, aren’t you a shrewd businesswoman?”

  She turned toward the back wall of her cell, careful to angle herself so that her back wasn’t turned to them. She tapped on the wall, locating the loose stone. Wiggling it between her thumb and forefinger, she pulled the stone from the wall and retrieved what she had promised Violet.

  “Your papers, signed by Queen Lyric.”

  “Forged, you mean,” Violet said. “These better work, or so help me…”

  “You’ll what?” Alena hissed. “These will give you entry to the Summer Court and secure your position as one of the queen’s ladies. If you do your duty well, you will be introduced to her son—just as you requested.”

  Violet gave a small nod as Alena slipped the papers through the bars of her cell. Violet looked them over, examining Lyric’s forged signature. Then, she reached in her pocket and produced a key. She handed it to the human girl, still staring ahead, zombie-like, from the heavy Unseelie magic Ardan had used once they stepped into the Seelie Realm. The girl stepped forward, inserted the key into the lock, and twisted.

  With a loud pop, the cell door unlocked and opened wide, like a gaping mouth.

  “You have your freedom, Lady Alena,” Ardan said.

  “Yes,” Alena replied, trailing her fingernail down the side of the prince’s handsome, arrogant face. “I’ll give you
a proper thank you later, but first, I have business with your father.” She leaned closer to Ardan, though, whispering in his ear. “Just because you have played your part in my freedom doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten the way you look at your Thorn Princess or your habit of playing both sides until there is a clear favorite in the game. If you betray me, I will destroy you.”

  But Ardan only smiled. “And you would be wise to remember where Slaine and Teagan are going and who is protecting them while you’re off playing your underhanded games.”

  Alena stepped closer, inhaling the acrid stench of Ardan’s arrogance. “Slaine and Teagan know well the part they must play, and heed this warning: my daughters can take care of themselves.”

  With her final warning issued, Alena gave them a friendly wave and then faded from the confines of the Winter Court.

  Chapter Seven

  Padraic rounded the corner of the east wing of the Unseelie Palace, looking over plans for the new revelry hall his father had tasked him with building.

  He groaned.

  More parties. He hated parties.

  So did his father, but to keep his Unseelie Fae happy, he was always coming up with new ways to keep them focused on frivolities rather than on what he was actually doing. These were the shoes Padraic would fill one day. When that happened, things would change. But until then…

  A shuffling sound in front of him interrupted his thoughts. He glanced up from the blueprints. At the other end of the hall, Ardan stepped out from the stairwell, searching the halls as if to make sure there was no one watching.

  What was his brother up to? He had returned from the Winter Castle a few hours ago in a thunderous rage, pushing servants, knocking breakables from their places on shelves and walls, throwing books and screaming like the overgrown child he was. Then, he had simply disappeared without a word. And now he was back, checking for witnesses.

  If he was bringing home any female other than the new Winter Princess and King Odhran found out about it, there would be consequences. But his brother’s discard for rules and contracts never ceased to amaze him.