Page 5 of Autumn Queens & Shadows

“Little bird, if you stare at me any harder, I might just turn into stone,” he said, even though he was looking at me just as intently—maybe even more.

Little bird.

Years.

Not months.

Not weeks or days.

It had been years since he had let me see him. Every spring when he returned to Dardanes from Seraphim, he came and went like summer rain. At night or on the hottest days when I couldn't bear scorching daylight, when I hid from it, when I hid from the world. Missing me intentionally as if he knew I was parched. Just as quickly as he came, he left, only touches of wet soil remained behind in the morning after, reminding me that I’d not imagined the feel or the touch of cool wet longing. Then, almost five years ago, he stopped coming altogether. He’d disappeared without trace and left only drought behind.

“I was expecting an invitation,” he said, pushing from the wall. The moment he took a step forward, I unconsciously took one back, and he stopped moving when he noticed, his gaze hardening.

The thing was, I no longer missed rain. No longer desired for it. I could douse heat myself—with blistering ice. I looked between my sister and him, scolding my heart and schooling my expression. “Where are the men?”

He raised a brow, waiting a while before answering me, “Dead. Were we aiming for another outcome, Your Majesty?”

The wind felt cold. My skin felt cold. And I couldn’t even feel cold. I turned to Snow, not trusting myself to say something I wouldn’t regret. “All Iskyla’s?” Any mine?

My sister nodded and I saw the rage she barely held behind a thin curtain suddenly burning and tearing and screaming to be let out. “Two words, Rora. Just two. Tell me to kill her.”

Little did she know that only two words also held me back from doing the same. Fear. Panic. None of mine. My people had enough fear and panic.

Sam faded next to her, he breathed a sigh of relief as his gold and silver eyes raked over his mother, then they went wide when they landed on his uncle. “Uncle Mal?”

Malik opened his arms wide. “Missed me or what?”

Sam flew into his embrace, almost knocking him over.

He groaned, tossing him in the air like he was still three. “Hells, you’ve grown.”

“A natural process that occurs through the years,” my nephew said blankly, straightening himself. “Says quite a bit, doesn’t it, uncle?”

Malik shot a look at Kilian who was wearing the strangest expression. “I was hoping you’d taken more from your mother’s traits.”

My nephew blinked between us all, seemingly confused. “Would you prefer it if I zapped you alive with electricity for disappearing these past five years?”

Snow nodded proudly at herself.

“Never mind,” Malik said, ruffling his dark hair, and looking between the small crowd. “Where is your sister?”

“Fell asleep with Memphis. I’ll go get her.”

Kilian pushed forward and tipped his chin at his brother, a cold, unforgiving look falling over his eyes—he’d been the most heartbroken after Malik’s disappearance. “Maybe we all will go now,” he said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “It has been a long day for all of us, especially for Thora.”

It hadn’t, in fact, it had just gotten easier for me now that Erik was dead, but I nodded and glanced back at my dead betrothed sprawled on the ground, still bleeding. Kneeling before him, I shut his eyelids and ran a finger over his face. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You deserved someone who would have wailed at this sight.”

Chapter two

Grey Myrtle

Thora

Elias and Oryn had not stopped talking and discussing for a solid second since they came to crowd my room. Only Skadi looked pretty satisfied with the outcome, leaning against a far wall, her eyes closed as she hummed some old tune in old Ysolt.

We were back at square one. And square one was pretty far to be in considering Elias had taken months to scour Erik and push word of the power that would sit to reign over Isjord once I’d marry him.

My white silk dress was stained with droplets of ruby, the last memory of what would have been a doomed marriage. Somehow, I couldn’t make myself take it off. Maybe part of me had hoped that Erik and I would have what my sister had. Maybe I was disappointed.