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

  “Come in,” Madra answered.

  Bear poked his head inside, his eyes lingering on Ivy. This time, for the first time in weeks, he looked at her and not through her, as he spoke. Her heart hammered inside her chest.

  “Her Majesty, Lyric, Queen of the Winter Court, requests an audience with you, Your Highness.”

  “Thank you, Barrett,” Ivy said, meeting his eyes, hoping to communicate how much she missed him. How much she still needed him as a friend, even if they were forbidden to share more. “Send her in.”

  The moment her mother stepped through the door, the spell was broken. Bear unlocked his eyes from hers and stared at the floor, pulling the door closed behind him.

  Filled once more with an empty sort of sadness, Ivy turned back toward her mother, who was absolutely radiant. She wore a corseted gown of velvet the color of the midnight sky. Faerie crystals accented the bodice and cascaded down the full skirt like a dusting of stars. Ever since the binding ceremony, Lyric’s skin seemed to glow bright white, sparkling here and there with prismatic colors that glinted in the light like glitter. As much as Ivy resented her mother sometimes, she was always in complete awe of her.

  “I suppose you know why I am here,” her mother said.

  Her tone was unusually sharp, so Ivy could only assume she had done something wrong. She shrugged, unable to muster up the energy to care. “Actually, I have no idea, but I am sure you’ll tell me.”

  Lyric’s eyes snapped in her direction. “Mortals may speak to their parents in such a tone, but you will not do so here. I am your mother and your Queen.”

  “I’m sorry, Lyric. I have had a long day, and I’m tired. I suppose there is no way of convincing you to allow me to stay in my room tonight.”

  “You suppose correctly,” Lyric said, her accent thicker with anger. “And I am sorry that you are tired. But you are the reason for this Winter Celebration, so your absence will not go unnoticed. And the reason I am here is to speak to you about Prince Ardan.”

  Ivy fought to suppress a groan.

  “Leave us, please, Madra.”

  The side door of Ivy’s bedroom clicked softly as Madra and Nareena vacated the room.

  Silence lingered between them for several agonizing moments before Queen Lyric finally broke it. “What is the problem with your betrothed? He is certainly attractive, he is well-dressed and well-groomed, he is friendly and offers gifts—ones that you throw right back in his face.”

  Ivy’s stomach twisted. “You saw that?”

  “I did.”

  Ivy sighed. There was no point in denying it. “He’s fine,” Ivy said. “He just acts like I am supposed to automatically fawn all over him, and I don’t even know him. I’m trying to like him, but he’s just not—”

  “Barrett?”

  Her mother’s sharp voice sliced through Ivy like a blade. Her heart, all the secrets within it, spilling out before the mother she hardly knew.

  “No, he isn’t,” Ivy whispered. “But then, no one else ever will be.”

  “You cannot marry your guard,” Queen Lyric said. “Your people will not accept it, and neither will I. You are contractually obligated to marry Prince Ardan just as he is to you. If either of you break this contract, King Odhran or I will pay in blood. Is that what you want? To see me bleed before my people? Our people?”

  “Of course not,” Ivy whispered. “I just need more time.”

  “Has he been too forward with you? Has he made unwanted advances?”

  “No,” Ivy whispered. “He’s just—I don’t know—so sure of himself. I’m still trying to learn how to fit in here, how to act and where to belong. I feel like I can’t be myself, and it’s driving me crazy. And whenever I’m with Prince Ardan, he looks at me with this condescending little smirk, like I’m so far beneath him.”

  “He does, does he? Ungrateful little brat.”

  Ivy watched her mother in surprise. Apparently, Queen Lyric didn’t like him, either.

  She sat down and took Ivy’s hand, her stiff skirt rustling with the movement.

  “The Unseelies are different from us,” she said. “And based on the rumors I have heard, Ardan is the worst.”

  “Yet you gave me to him,” Ivy accused.

  “Yes, when he and Padraic were no more than toddlers. We had no way of knowing, then, what Ardan would become. How different he would be from his brother.”

  “Great,” Ivy said. “So I’m betrothed to a monster, while I’m in love with someone else.”

  “Ardan is not a monster,” Lyric said. “The Unseelies are different than the Fae of the Seelie Realm. They act on their impulses, and many of those impulses are dark. They do not share our rules about interacting with humans or using them, as well as other faeries, to get what they want. But do not ever let him make you feel unworthy of him.”

  “Too late,” Ivy said. “I feel like every time I screw up, he’s laughing at me. It’s hard to respect anyone who makes you feel like an embarrassment.”

  Queen Lyric took her hand. “Listen to me. Ardan has been raised his entire life as an Unseelie prince. That means, even though he isn’t heir to his own throne, he will still sit on one, in this case the Winter Throne. He is selfish and spoiled and not to be trusted. But you must play your part. You are Ivy, Thorn Princess of the Winter Realm, and my daughter. Be proud. No matter how his smirk makes you feel, you are his equal, and the throne he will sit upon one day is yours, not his. Don’t ever let him forget it.”

  Ivy nodded, but she felt even more hopeless than before. The reality that she would never be allowed to share her life with Bear was sinking in more and more each day. Even worse, she would have to see him, to be near him for the rest of her life but never be allowed to touch him, to hold him, to kiss him. And Bear would have to watch in silence as the Unseelie Prince continued to give her gifts, pay her compliments, touch her. The thought was enough to make her sick.

  “I know how you feel, Ivy,” Lyric said, her voice softer than before. “But you must learn to let go of things that can never be. You must let go of Barrett. If you don’t, then he’ll never be free. Is that what you want for him?”

  Ivy shook her head. No. She didn’t want him to waste his life loving her when she was doomed to marry another. But how would she ever endure it if he fell in love with someone else? Tears rose unbidden from her eyes, freezing as they rolled down her cold cheeks. Lyric stood, then, and wrapped her arms around Ivy, offering her what little consolation she could in the midst of delivering a truth so harsh.

  Yet Ivy accepted the embrace and returned it. Here, in the Winter Court, her mother’s love was all she would ever have.

  Chapter Ten

  Barrett should’ve seen it coming, but he didn’t.

  The way Queen Lyric glared at him whenever he was too near Ivy had made it obvious that she realized Bear’s feelings. What Bear hadn’t realized was that the Queen could see Ivy returned his feelings.

  Ivy had really become skilled at hiding her emotions, avoiding his gaze, never initiating conversations with him. Until today, when she had so adamantly refused Ardan’s advances, Bear had thought she might be turning from him, accepting her fate and moving on. But when she had thrown Prince Ardan’s necklace back in his face—the ultimate insult in their realm—hope had swelled in his chest, as if the cloud of gloom that had been surrounding him for the last three weeks had finally lifted.

  But now, things would be over for good. He had heard Lyric’s lecture through the door. Had heard Ivy admit she could never love Ardan when her heart belonged to Bear. But now that Ivy understood—really understood—what was at stake, she had to know that her mother would never break the contract with King Odhran. She couldn’t. Her very life depended upon it.

  “You must let go of Barrett. If you don’t, then he’ll never be free.”

  Bear had heard the words, had heard the sobs that followed after. Ivy’s pain was enough to rip his own heart out. If he could tear his own from his chest to keep her from
despair, he’d do so without complaint. In truth, he didn’t want to be free. He had no desire for anyone else. He would love her for as long as he lived, no matter how many women came in and out of his life, no matter how long she lived side by side with Ardan.

  “She’s right, you know.”

  Lochlan’s voiced echoed from the far end of the long hallway. So the Queen had confided in Lochlan, too. And, better than anyone else, Lochlan understood Bear’s reality. Knew his heart because it was his heart, too. Bear could never abandon Ivy any more than Lochlan could ever simply turn off his feelings for Queen Lyric.

  “It seems we are both doomed to love women we can never have,” Bear said. “But no big deal, right? Eternity isn’t so long.”

  Lochlan laughed, but there was no humor in it. Instead, it held only self-deprecating truth. Irony. The same emotions Bear used to cloak his feelings.

  “You are very young, Barrett,” Lochlan said. “For Faerie guards, life can be cut short, but if you’re lucky enough to live as long life as I have, you’ll come to understand that there are no limits to the amusements you can find, should you feel the need for distraction.”

  “Is that how you pass the cold winter nights?” Bear asked. “Distracting yourself? From where I’m standing, you are distracted by nothing and live only for your Queen and your duty. I plan to live my life, however long I have, the same way.”

  “Then, you are just as foolish as I.”

  Lochlan smiled sadly before stepping beside Bear and knocking lightly on the door.

  “It’s time, Milady.”

  A few seconds later, the door swung wide, and Ivy followed her mother into the hallway, the Winter crown settled on her head. Daring to glance at her, Bear held out his arm. She met his eyes, blinking back moisture. When she took his arm, she looked away and gave him a gentle squeeze that seemed to be saying she was sorry.

  The walk to the ballroom was too short. All too soon, Bear passed Ivy off to her mother and followed them into the party, stopping just inside the door. As Bartley, the Head Brownie, announced them, Ivy stood proudly before her people and gave a gentle wave. She was much more poised than she had been when she had first come to the Winter Court, and soon enough, Bear knew, she would no longer resemble his Ivy Hawthorne, beautiful in her blue jeans and braids, the girl he had fallen in love with in the mortal realm.

  “It’s really too bad,” a voice said from behind him. “I could find much better things to do with you if I were the princess.”

  Bear turned toward the voice. Slaine, the oldest of Alena’s daughters, stood in the hallway, barely covered by a revealing green dress, a few inches too short in either direction. She was beautiful, just as all the Winter royals were, with long dark curls that settled against the snow-white skin of her shoulders.

  “I’m surprised to see you here,” Bear said, redirecting his eyes to the crowd inside the door.

  She shrugged. “Mother’s crime, mother’s time. I didn’t have anything to do with Violet’s unfortunate abduction. That was all Mommy dearest.”

  Bear shot her a skeptical glance before scanning the crowd once again. “Alena never goes anywhere without you and Teagan. You knew exactly what she was up to, and now you’re sucking up to your auntie so you don’t have to trade in your palace apartment for a cold slab floor beside your mother’s.”

  “That’s what I love about you, Bear,” Slaine whispered. “You’re not afraid to speak your mind. Everyone else plays the game. But not you. Never you.”

  She was close behind him. Close enough to feel her breathe against his neck.

  “What do you want, Slaine?”

  “I want to see my mother, and you can get me the key.”

  Bear laughed. “You’re out of your mind. Lochlan is the only one who has that key, and there’s no way he would give it to anyone, least of all me. Even if I could get it for you, I wouldn’t.”

  “Ah, yes, I had heard you’re the princess’ little lap dog now. She snaps her fingers and you come running, wagging your little tail, just hoping for just an ounce of affection. I could give you all the affection you could ever need. Whenever. Wherever. However.”

  “But you’ll need the key.”

  “Of course.”

  Bear shook his head. “Go sniff around someone else, Slaine. I have nothing to offer you.”

  “That’s not how I remember it,” she said. “Seems to me, you had plenty to offer before Auntie Lyric sent you on your little quest. Before our sweet little Thorn Princess blinded you with her pouty pink lips.”

  Suddenly, Slaine’s lips were moving against his neck, her arms sliding around his waist. He inhaled sharply, caught off-guard by her shameless public display. Slaine was a force to be reckoned with in the same way Chelsea Douglass commanded attention in the mortal realm. But he had made that mistake before, and getting involved with Slaine, he knew, never ended peacefully. Fighting against the sudden wave of desire, Bear took her hands and gently removed them from his waist, stepping away from her until he was further inside the doors to the ballroom.

  Lochlan met Bear’s eyes across the room. Slaine’s hands lingered on his arm before she finally sauntered off into the darkness to find her next victim. Bear rolled his eyes and shook his head, hoping he was communicating that she was up to no good. Clearly, he had made his point because Lochlan nodded and then signaled to one of the other guards. Slaine was up to something, and she needed to be followed.

  When Bear turned back to the crowd, though, Ivy was staring at him with a stricken expression that told him she hadn’t missed his exchange with her cousin—the daughter of the woman that would kill Ivy and Lyric and then dance on their graves when she had done the job.

  Bear’s gut twisted in his core. Damn her. Damn Slaine and her manipulative tactics. She had known exactly what she was doing and who it would hurt. Which meant that Lochlan and Queen Lyric weren’t the only ones who had guessed how Bear and Ivy felt for each other.

  Which was not good at all.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ivy wasn’t sure if her legs were going to support her, as she absently accepted the flute of sparkling liquid from the tray Aileen, one of the Brownies, carried.

  Ivy’s stomach, already writhing with nerves due to the large crowd, lurched when she saw the exchange between Slaine and Bear. Ivy didn’t know why she was so surprised. Slaine was gorgeous. Bear would have to be dead not to notice a girl like her. And Bear wasn’t exactly lacking in good looks, either. Besides, Ivy and Bear could never be together. It was selfish of her to hope he would never choose anyone else over her, maybe out of some romantic but unrealistic solidarity in being together in their loneliness.

  But why did it have to be Slaine?

  She took a long sip of the drink, sweet like vanilla and honey. It slid warm down her throat and settled into her belly. She took another sip and then another.

  Ivy would never forget the twisted looks on Slaine and Teagan’s faces as their mother, Alena, had dragged Violet across the floor, leaving a trail of blood in her wake. Both of them, Slaine especially, were the types who could look upon blood and abuse and suffering without so much as a shrug. How could Bear ever respect someone like Slaine? She reminded herself that Bear had removed her hands from his waist and stepped away from her. Surely that meant he wasn’t interested.

  Beside her, Queen Lyric cleared her throat, pulling Ivy from her jealous contemplations.

  “Your betrothed is arriving,” her mother said.

  Ivy fought back the urge to groan. Wasn’t once a day enough? Having to endure Ardan twice in a single day just seemed cruel and unusual. She turned up the glass, swallowing its contents in a single gulp before placing the flute back on an empty tray. The Head Brownie, Bartley, slammed the metal rod against the floor, and the whispering crowd hushed.

  “Ardan, Prince of the Unseelie Realm,” Bartley said, “and his welcome guest, Juliet McKinnon of the human realm.”

  Whispers turned to gasps, and Ivy’s heart
stumbled into arrhythmia before speeding forward. Instinctively, she took her mother’s hand and squeezed.

  “He’s taken my best friend,” she whispered between clenched teeth. Meanwhile, she craned her neck to see beyond the crowd.

  “Do nothing,” Lyric whispered. “Say nothing. Do not act insulted. Remember what I said: play your part.”

  Ivy slid her eyes to glance at her mother. Perfect. She was just supposed to stand there and act pleased that her best friend was in the Faerie Realm? What the hell was Ardan up to? What was he thinking bringing her here? As painful as it was to leave Jules behind, Ivy had done it out of love, out of the desire to protect her. How could Ardan place her in danger by bringing her here, where war was brewing?

  The crowd parted as Ardan stepped inside the ballroom from the grand hallway. He was stunning. He was always stunning. Dressed in a silver suit and black shirt, he was everything Ivy could dream of and more. She had even gotten used to his strange greenish skin. But it was his eyes that reminded her, like always, that he was not her choice. Ivy tried to ignore the way they scanned her from head to toe, lingering without shame here and there before they slid, finally, to her face. She shivered. She peered around him, trying to catch a glimpse of Jules. Where was she? Why couldn’t she see?

  That’s when something in Ardan’s hand caught her eye. He was grasping something. Then, he pulled his arm forward. Fury, frigid as the icy core of Dante’s hell, gathered in Ivy’s chest and cooled the air around her. She followed the silvery rope with her eyes from the end of it, clutched in Ardan’s hand, to where it drooped toward the floor and then upward, winding around Jules’ neck. Ardan was pulling Jules forward. By a leash. As if she were no more than a mangy pit bull.

  Ardan’s lips curled into a smile as Ivy’s breath became visible in the dropping temperature. He would pay for this. Ivy didn’t realize her hands were shaking until Lyric squeezed her arm, reminding her to be grateful. She met Jules’ eyes, which were glimmering with anger. Her first instinct was to rush to her best friend, take Ardan’s leash, and magically shove it up his royal backside.