Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 63709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“What is that?” Ma is frowning at the rumpled quilt. She tugs the blanket and something heavy and shiny tumbles out. A crown.
My crown.
“Ulf’s breath.” Ma snatches her hand back. “How did that get here?”
I pluck it from the bed. The brilliant, red-black jewels wink at me. “Rogue must have packed it with my satchel…”
“Hello?” someone calls up the stairs. Leelah.
“We’re up here!” I call. “Ma’s awake.”
“Thank Ulf.” Leelah opens the door and stands aside as Rogue sweeps past her, bringing a platter with more mugs of tea, and plates of sweet cakes. Her jaw drops and she points at the floating tray.
“It’s all right, it’s just the whisps,” I say, once again staring at the crown in my hand. “The king’s wind servants I told you about yesterday.”
“Right. Thank you.” Leelah accepts the mug of tea Rogue brings to her, and gives a little curtsey. “I just came to tell you. The news is all over the kingdom. The curse is gone. The Red Death has passed. Everyone has recovered—the villagers are dancing in the streets.”
“Are you sure?” Things are happening so fast, my head is spinning.
“It’s a miracle,” Leelah says.
“It is indeed.” Ma straightens, reaching for a sweet cake. Something catches the light at the base of her throat.
Leelah gasps and points to Ma.
“What is it?” Ma pats her front. Her shawl has fallen open to reveal her neck and upper chest. Right there, just below her collarbone, is a huge, silver handprint—an Alpha-sized handprint. But not just any Alpha. I’d recognize the size of that paw anywhere.
“He was here,” I whisper. I clutch the crown to my chest.
Rogue tugs at the blanket, revealing a small scroll. The gilded parchment unravels in front of my face and I grasp it to read:
My Rose, you forgot this. I’ve sent word to the Council. You are to be crowned on the morrow. The kingdom will accept your rule.
You will make a fine queen.
~ Bestian.
Beneath the signature there’s a sketch of a moonflower, and the words: Remember me.
I shoot to my feet, my heart racing. “I have to go.”
“Go?” Leelah gapes at me.
“He was here.” I look about for my cloak, and Rogue whisks past me, blowing my braids on end.
“Who?” Leelah asks.
“The king,” Ma says. Out of all of us, she looks the most calm. “The king was here.”
“Bestian,” I say. A flood of warmth spreads through my chest. Rogue returns with such force, Leelah’s apron flaps into her face. It lifts my braids and fastens my cloak.
“I have to go,” I tell Ma. “I must return to him.”
“Of course, child.” She pats my arm. “You go. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” I grip her hand, suddenly hesitant. “I can stay.”
“You love him, don’t you?”
A hundred excuses are on the tip of my tongue. Love isn’t real. It’s a construct to sell greeting cards and Valentine’s Day candy, and preserve the ridiculous construct of a nuclear family. But all I say is, “Yes.”
She squeezes my hand tight and releases me. “Then go. Go save him.”
“How did you know—”I begin, but she interrupts me, her eyes gleaming.
“The legend tells of an Omega who saves the king, right? You’re the hero of this story. Go and save your king.”
“Go and save the king. Easier said than done,” I mutter an hour later. Sweat coats my back and my knife is giving me blisters on my palm. Rogue carried me easily up to the base of the castle hill but then it stopped abruptly, setting me down. “Can you get me up there?” I asked, but it ruffled my skirts sadly. So I asked it to fetch me a good knife from Ma’s kitchen, and set to work.
It’s slow going. The tangle of wilderness is denser than I remember, a mass of gnarly brambles and wilting moonflower blossoms. It’s even harder to hack through than last time.
“Can you help me?” I ask the whisps. I can sense them here, at my back. All of them, not just Rogue. Bestian must have ordered them to leave the castle. To leave him.
There’s a sharp ache in my heart but I’m ignoring it. I need to stay focused. Calm. Having a giant emotional breakdown on the side of this hill wouldn’t help anyone.
“I need to get to him,” I tell them, “and I need to do it fast. Can I…”
Wait a minute.
I extend my hand imperiously. “Make way,” I order, and the vines part before me, uncovering the worn stone path. I close my eyes and expand my senses. Sure enough—I can feel it, hovering on the edges of my consciousness. The power of the land.
“Take me to him,” I order, and the ground rolls beneath my feet. “Back to the castle,” I order the whisps, and I can physically feel the chains that bound them snapping, like little electric jolts. “Make ready.”