Heir of Iron Hearts: Iron Crown Faerie Tales Book 2 Read online

  Padraic pressed himself against the wall, closing his eyes and concentrating on the stonework. Seconds later, he and everything he was holding onto, blended with the background, like the chameleons that lived on creek banks in the Unseelie Realm. In the shadows ahead, Ardan turned and held out his hand. Pale white fingers gripped his. At first, Padraic thought Ardan was actually making progress with his Winter Princess, who was far too perceptive to fall for his brother’s usual ploys. But then, a tiny slip of a girl stepped into the hall behind him. Another one of Arden’s playthings? If father found out, Ardan would get the supernatural beating of a lifetime. King Odhran had signed an oath in blood. He had made promises that Ardan’s philandering would cease once the courtship began.

  But this girl certainly wasn’t his type.

  Spiky black hair poked out in all directions in an edgy take on a human “pixie cut”—he couldn’t help but groan at the aptly named style—and she stared ahead apprehensively from huge expressive eyes the color of chocolate. She wore a hoop in her brow, a stud in her nose, another ring on her bottom lip and studs that lined the sides of both ears. A girl who would willingly put that many holes in her face shouldn’t be attractive, and yet…

  What was his brother up to?

  Their father had forbidden him to bring any more humans into the Unseelie Realm. They lost all sense of time here, staying for what seemed like years only to return to the mortal realm and only days had passed. But more than that, the dark temptations of the Unseelie Realm made them gradually forget their human lives until they took on Unseelie qualities, though they were never truly Fae.

  Padraic thought about remaining hidden, but his curiosity got the better of him. Plus, he enjoyed nothing more than watching his baby brother squirm. Pushing back against the wall, Padraic retracted the glamour, tucking the blueprints beneath his arm, and followed Ardan and his mystery girl—who stopped abruptly in the middle of the balcony.

  “Where’s Ivy?” she demanded. “You swore you’d bring me to her, and so far, all I’ve seen is that you apparently live in some gothic castle of doom.”

  “And I told you that if you want to know the truth about your best friend, then you have to do what I ask.”

  “Listen to the words that are coming out of my mouth, asshole,” she said, straightening. It took every ounce of Padraic’s willpower not to burst out laughing, but he wanted to hear what this human girl would say next. “Take me to Ivy, or the deal’s off. I agreed to your terms. I followed you here to this…whatever the hell this place is, and you promised me I’d learn the truth. Pay up, Buttercup.”

  Padraic couldn’t hold back any longer.

  “And just what sort of deal did my brother strike with you?” he asked her, stepping away from the wall.

  She turned, eyeing Padraic with an annoyed expression.

  “Oh, God, there are two of you? Give a girl a little advanced warning.”

  “What do you want, Padraic?” Ardan asked.

  His attitude was for extra show, Padraic knew. If the girl hadn’t been there, Ardan would never have dared talk to him that way.

  “To know why you’re leading a human girl around inside the Unseelie Castle within the Unseelie Realm. You know the rules. Father doesn’t allow human pets anymore.”

  “Pets?” the girl hissed. “Pets? Let me tell you something, Mr….I don’t even care what your name is. Where I come from, people honor their bargains. He promised me he would take me to my best friend. She’s missing from school, and I’m sick with worry about her. But now that we’re here, I’m still waiting for him to produce what he promised.”

  “Your best friend is Ivy Hawthorne?” Padraic asked.

  “Yeah, so?” the girl answered.

  “I’m sorry, but do you have a name? I cannot go on talking to you without first knowing your name.”

  The girl rolled her eyes and folded her arms.

  Ardan glared at Padraic. “May I introduce Miss Juliet McKinnon, the human best friend of Princess Ivy. Juliet McKinnon, this is Padraic, Crown Prince of the Unseelie Realm.”

  Padraic raised his brows. This was stupid, even for Ardan. More than stupid, it was dangerous.

  “Charmed,” the girl, Juliet, said. Then, her dark brows disappeared beneath her hair, as Ardan’s words sunk in. “Whoah, whoah, whoah. Back up, just a minute. Did you just say Princess Ivy?”

  Padraic glanced at Ardan, who was scrambling for words after his slip up.

  “I see that my brother, as usual, has failed to disclose all the details of the bargain you struck. Allow me to fill you in. Your best friend, Ivy, I presume, just learned that she is a Winter Court Princess and true heir to the Winter Court throne. Her mother exchanged her for a human child just after her birth to keep her safe. Now, the true princess has been called home.”

  Juliet stared at him, her mouth agape, for several moments. Padraic could tell her mind was working double-time to lock all the pieces together.

  “Oh, my God,” she hissed, turning to Ardan. “You asshole. Ivy is princess of a different court, and you’re using me as some sort of political pawn?”

  Padraic could no longer hold back his laughter. He unleashed his mirth, the sound of it echoing through the halls.

  “Um, excuse me, but I don’t see the humor in this at all,” the girl said.

  “The humor is that my brother isn’t motivated by much other than a pretty face and his own base desires. His goals are hardly as politically motivated as you’re thinking.”

  Sure enough, when Padraic looked at his brother, Ardan’s lip was curled into its signature snarl, typically reserved for times like this, when he’d been caught in his utterly predictable plans.

  “My best guess is that he’s going to present you as a gift to Princess Ivy in order to get in her good graces. This is going to be better than human television.”

  Juliet looked at Ardan then, her eyes flashing as if she, a mere human, could tear his brother apart with the pure power of her anger, which filled Padraic with a strange delight he hadn’t experienced in years. If his brother had been expecting to kidnap a pawn easily employed in his services, he had definitely picked the wrong human. This Juliet McKinnon was going to give his brother far more problems than he had ever imagined while calculating the end result of his poorly laid plans.

  Padraic stepped toward Juliet, reaching for her hand. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to her skin. “Miss Juliet, it has been a true pleasure to meet you. I hope you will find your time beyond the mortal realm enjoyable.”

  He glanced back at Ardan. “Brother, I think your best course of action in this case is to escort Miss Juliet to her friend before you screw up even more.”

  With that, he walked past them down the hall, wondering if he would ever see the spunky human girl again. Hoping he might.

  Chapter Eight

  Okay, so Jules had always known there was something a little extra or more than human about Ivy Hawthorne. She had seen it with her own eyes. The animals that followed her, the strange intuition or borderline psychic abilities, the way she had nearly choked Chelsea Douglass with her own pearls.

  But a princess?

  In the Faerie Realm?

  It was completely impossible. Yet here she was, standing beside another faerie royal, who was supposedly engaged to Ivy. Her best friend, who was totally and completely in love with Barrett Forbes. But Ardan didn’t seem to have a clue about that, so Jules kept those details to herself in an act of total solidarity with her best friend.

  Her best friend who still had not been produced, despite all of Fabio Faerie’s promises.

  “I want to see Ivy,” Jules said again.

  She stared after the Crown Prince—Padraic, he had said—who glanced over his shoulder and smiled at her just before he disappeared around a corner. If the brothers weren’t twins, they could certainly pass for it, despite their subtle differences. Padraic was an inch or two shorter, and his face was more trustworthy than her current captor. Ardan’s
expression was never absent its condescending smirk and narrowed eyes. Poor Ivy. Did she really have to marry this douchebag?

  “Did you hear me, la doucha? I said I want to see Ivy.”

  Ardan’s nostrils flared as he glared down at Jules. There was something about him, something dark and dangerous just beneath the carefully placed mask of amusement, that made her stomach flip—and not in a good way. But she stood her ground, hoping her persistence would eventually lead her to Ivy.

  “Fine,” he said. “I was hoping to clean you up a little, but my brother’s right. I can’t keep you here.”

  “That’s the smartest thing you’ve said since we got here,” Jules said. “I mean, if you’re trying to get in Ivy’s good graces, keeping me here against my wishes is so not the fastest way to her heart. Trust me on this one.”

  Ardan grabbed her wrist, his fingers gripping her skin with unnecessary force, and pulled her down a dark hallway.

  “Where are we going?” Jules demanded. “If I have so much as a scratch on me when you deliver me to Ivy, she’s going to be über pissed at you. I’m talking, like, nuclear missile kind of pissed off. We’ve been best friends since we were eight years old, so you might want to loosen your grip on me.”

  “For the love of all that is holy, will you please shut up?” Ardan hissed. “Your constant prattle is infuriating.”

  “You know what?” Jules asked. “You can kiss my—”

  She cut herself off when he jerked her wrist forward and then gripped her shoulders, staring into her eyes. In the darkness, his irises were glowing yellow, like some sick alien creature. She fought to evenly release the breath she was holding in an effort to hide her sudden fear. She didn’t move or speak. All she could do was wait, realizing she was completely at his mercy. Finally, though, he loosened his grip, slid his hand down her arm and took her hand, once again pulling her along after him.

  The further down the hall they went, the more uneasy she became. The castle was old and drafty, like something out of the middle ages. She could definitely recommend a few upgrades to bring the place up to code. But she was beginning to understand her reality, thanks to Padraic. Ardan was using her to get to Ivy, and Jules still owed him a debt. As he pulled her along behind him, not stopping when she stumbled or bumped into things, she realized that whatever debt that was, wouldn’t be good for Ivy…

  What the hell have I gotten myself into?

  Finally, they reached an ancient wooden door. Ardan reached in the pockets of his freshly pressed pants and produced a large skeleton key. One of those deals you see in horror movies just before someone dies. Instinctively, Jules pulled back, but his grip remained firm. He jiggled the key in the lock until the door creaked open, haunted house style, revealing a blinding light, and he dragged her inside.

  Jules shielded her eyes against the light, which seemed nearly unbearable after enduring the darkness of the hallway. She blinked several times before her eyes adjusted, finally seeing what was inside the room. She stood inside a small stone circle before great vertical stones, moss covered and craggy. The entire room smelled wet, like damp soil, and a loud buzzing, like bees in a hive, hummed like static in her ears. Still holding onto her wrist, Ardan stepped right up to the middle stone, the tallest one, she realized. He placed his hands—and hers—against the cool rock. Jules felt it only for a moment before the buzzing grew louder and the world seemed to disappear beneath her feet.

  Her stomach rose to her throat, and her brain screamed inside her head as flashes of light swirled around her. She finally realized she was moving at warp speed, falling through the earth until she landed on top of Ardan. She was painfully aware of her body pressed against his for only a moment. Because when she opened her eyes, she was in a world of snow-covered trees and hills, ice coating tree branches like sparkling jewels. The frigid wind stung her eyes, but she couldn’t look away. She felt as if she had just stepped through the wardrobe into Narnia. But this wasn’t a world from a storybook. This was real. Not Jules’ world but Ivy’s—everything in it as light as Ivy’s skin and hair.

  “If I had known it was this easy to get you on top of me, I might not have left the castle so soon,” Ardan said.

  Remembering she was straddling the waist of her best friend’s betrothed, Jules groaned in disgust and slid away from him. When she stood, not bothering to help the bastard up, she stared at a distant castle, its gray stone walls the color of the winter sky, its towers and spires reaching the clouds.

  “Ivy’s here?” Jules whispered.

  The cold was bitter, biting with sharp teeth through the thin sleeves of her shirt. She hadn’t thought to grab her coat before she had foolishly agreed to come with Ardan. Then again, there was no way she could have known where she would wind up.

  “Oh, my dear, Juliet,” Ardan said. “This is where Ivy lives. This is the Winter Court of the Seelie Realm, and one day, when Queen Lyric is out of the way, Ivy and I will rule it all.”

  Jules looked up at him, shivering. The Winter Court was freezing, but the goosebumps that dotted her skin had nothing to do with the cold. Something about the look on his face when he said those final words had shot through her mind like a flare gun. Jules needed to get to Ivy as soon as possible. She needed to warn her that Prince Ardan wasn’t someone she could afford to trust.

  Jules hustled forward, the snow slowing her down, but before she could take more than a few steps, Ardan grabbed her hand, stopping her in place.

  “Before we go in, we need to discuss the terms of our deal. Our agreement is that I take you to Ivy, and you will owe me a debt. You agreed to those terms.”

  Jules unleashed an irritable breath. “So you keep reminding me. Hurry up and get on with it. I can’t wait to see Ivy.”

  Ardan smiled, but there was nothing friendly in his expression. “Not so fast,” he said. “I’m going to collect.”

  “Au, contraire, mon ami,” Jules said. “I haven’t seen Ivy yet. No best friend. No deal.”

  “Fine.” Ardan shrugged. “You’ll see Ivy soon enough. Your end of our bargain is simple. You will report her activities back to me, giving me detailed accounts of how she spends her days. And nights. If I am to marry Princess Ivy, I have to ensure she is mine and mine alone.”

  Ardan held out his hand to seal their bargain once again.

  Jules eyed his hand, her skin crawling. She could never betray Ivy. She wouldn’t. But maybe what Ardan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

  “No shake, no Ivy,” Ardan reminded her.

  Swallowing back the bile that had risen in her throat, Jules shook Ardan’s hand. But before he let go of her, he pushed up her sleeve with his free hand and pressed his thumb to the sensitive skin just below the crease of her elbow.

  “Ow!” she screeched. “What the hell was that?”

  She looked down at her arm where her skin was burning, but there was nothing there. A few seconds later, the pain disappeared, and he pulled her shirt back down to her wrist and released her.

  “I’m not waiting,” he said, already several feet ahead. “You’d better keep up. This is the last place a human girl wants to be caught alone.”

  Grumbling under her breath, she followed him, glaring into his back the entire way. Ivy had a hell of a lot to explain, and her douchebag fiancé was the first item on her need-to-know list.

  Chapter Nine

  Ivy stared vacantly into the three-way mirror as Madra and Nareena made the finishing adjustments to her gown. Tonight, her mother was hosting another revelry, this one in celebration of the full return of winter.

  Ivy couldn’t deny the effect the binding of her power with her mother’s had made on the entire Court. Snow drifted non-stop from the bleak sky in huge flakes to blanket the ground in several feet of pristine snow, the top layer of which had hardened in an icy sheen that crunched beneath determined feet. The court sculptors were back in business, finally able to fulfill their duties by scurrying around with saws and chisels, chipping away at blocks o
f ice until they were carved and smoothed into beautiful figures—swans, snowflakes, dancing faeries, pixies with delicate wings. There was even one of Ivy and Queen Lyric, their wrists bound in a frozen scene from their Binding Ceremony.

  “And the Queen is so happy now that you’re back,” Nareena was saying. “She’s waited so long to be reunited with you, and now, here you are. You’re back and so is our beautiful winter. The Summer and Autumn Courts will surely back down now that the snow is high enough to hinder an attack.”

  Finally, Nareena stepped back, taking Ivy in from her feet to the top of her perfectly braided hair.

  “You are a vision, Your Highness,” Madra said. “You look positively resplendent.”

  “Oh, she does, she does, if I do say so myself,” Nareena agreed.

  “Are you alright, Princess Ivy?”

  The question tore Ivy from her thoughts, and reluctantly, she met her own gaze in the mirror. Her lavender dress was dotted with sparkling jewels that looked like frozen tears against a silvery chiffon overlay. Her hair was swept around her head in thick braids, her crown settled on top her head like a heavy weight. Her green eyes looked almost feral against their backdrop of purple shadow and long mascaraed lashes.

  She was beautiful.

  But she was also tired and would give just about anything to spend the day in her pajamas reading or watching a movie with Jules before going to bed early.

  “I’m fine,” Ivy said. “Thank you, ladies. The dress, the hair—all of it—it’s just beautiful.”

  Nareena was positively beaming, and a blush blossomed over her leathery brownie skin. “It’s kind of you to say so. Your prince won’t be able to take his eyes off you tonight.”

  Great. Just what Ivy needed. More interaction with her would-be husband. She sighed, stepping down from the platform that stood in front of the mirror, just as there was a knock at the door.