Hello friends! I’m alive, and finally coming up for air after an honestly chaotic month. I’m excited to settle into my new writing routine as we inch closer and closer to the fall season. (I am dying for cool breezes and falling leaves, y’all…) What’s been on my to-do list lately? I’ve been setting up a brand new cover reveal of Annwyn Park (pre-order your copy here)! We’re diving in with the lovely Bewitching Book Tours and I’ll be hosting a fresh giveaway, so stay tuned for more news.
Meanwhile, I’m deep diving into Heartless Beauty, the fourth and final(?) book in the Wylder Tales series. This one promises battles between rival beasts and queens, with some family drama and romance, of course. I hope y’all will stick with me through the usual chaotic process as we bring this to life! For now, keep reading for a free snippet of Heartless Beauty below…
IN AN ENCHANTED CASTLE…
Vynasha kept her hands clenched at her sides as she glared down at the sleeping prince. Firelight cast her shadow over his canopied bed. The room had been well tended in her absence. Not that she had intended to avoid Grendel for days. There has been much to do, to begin turning Castle Bitterhelm into a home Wyll could feel safe in.
Odym was elsewhere, gathering the prince’s next meal from Lokyr, or clothing from Myrel and Lyttia. The ghostly servants of Bitterhelm, those thralls forced to linger even after their bodies withered away over the centuries, were pitifully few. Too many had faded from wisps into shadow, and their whispers haunted Vynasha’s waking steps. Even here, in the room of their sleeping prince.
“Be strong of will…” The walls whispered voices were softer today, at least. But the voices sounded far too much like her faded friend for comfort. “Face your reflection… Claim the mirror you must before the end…”
Digging her claws deeper into her palm, Vynasha reached into the threads that bound her to the castle and hissed, “Enough, Hvalla. I know what I have to do.”
The whispers fell silent, softer, until the faintest words brushed Vynasha’s conscience. “Curse breaker… Queen.”
The room was too small and too quiet, once Vynasha’s vision cleared of luminous threads. All that remained was the soft snores of the prince, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the fire crackling at her back.
Vynasha would not need to wait much longer. She had come here determined to speak with Odym, after all, not stare at the weak prince. He had scarcely left the prince’s side since Vynasha left the room several days ago. Had it only been days?
Vynasha could not be certain how many. She should have summoned the old knight, rather than come back here. No matter how long it had been, it was clearly not long enough. Her hands trembled as she released claws from her palms. With but a thought, she healed the faint punctures left behind.
She leaned against the prince’s bedframe with one hand as the other rubbed absently at her chest. The ache was back where the bond between them remained, the pull to bridge the distance and touch him again.
She closed her eyes and flashes of midnight kisses and endless golden skin spanned beneath her clawed hands…
Her hand trailed across her chest to her neck as the wooden frame creaked beneath her desperate grip.
Vynasha opened her eyes with a gasp and bared her sharp teeth at the sleeping prince. Her breath escaped her with a shudder as she forced the images from her mind. “It was just a dream,” she growled. “His dream.”
The nights they had shared had been necessary, she reminded herself. Grendel would have never trusted her enough to let his guard down, otherwise. He would have happily let her believe she had been weak because of the demon’s mark, when Nymwe’s boon was the only reason Vynasha was not Grendel’s puppet queen.
As though summoned by the thought of the passenger lingering at the back of her mind, the demon hissed, “Never forget how he tried to keep you weak and dependent upon him.”
Vynasha nodded and straightened her spine. “I won’t forget.”
The door creaked open behind her, though Odym was perfectly capable of passing through walls should he choose. Passing through walls while carrying solid objects, however, seemed to take far more energy than the old knight cared to expend today, it would seem.
Vynasha did not dare turn her back on Grendel as she waited for the old knight to place his gleaming silver tray on the bedside table. She checked their bond one last time to be certain he would remain asleep until she wished otherwise. No more surprises and broken dreams today.
Odym was not quite so transparent today, though still faintly luminous as all the servants of Bitterhelm were. He still wore the same overcoat, breeches, boots, and lace ruffles at his wrists and chest as he had the day they had met. When Vynasha had been their prisoner.
“My apologies, my queen,” he muttered, not daring to meet her eyes as he performed a perfunctory bow. After another moment of hesitation, he said, “Are you here to see the prince? He has been asking after you every time he awakens.”
Vynasha grimaced, and her gaze flickered between the sleeping prince and the knight. “I came to see you.”
“Me?” Startled, Odym gaped openly at her.
She continued, before he could don another neutral mask, “The prince’s meal will need to wait. I have need of you elsewhere today.”
A pause followed, full of all the words and protests Odym would not dare say. He cleared his throat, a strangely mortal gesture, before carefully approaching her. “As you wish, my queen.”
“Follow me,” Vynasha ordered as she released her grip on the prince’s bed, turned and stalked through his bedroom door.
to be continued…
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