Two Twisted Crowns (The Shepherd King, #2)

by Rachel Gillig

The Twin Alders is hidden in a place with no time. A place of great sorrow and bloodshed and crime. Betwixt ancient trees, where the mist cuts bone-deep, the last Card remains, waiting, asleep. The wood knows no road—no path through the snare. Only I can find the Twin Alders… For it was I who left it there.

“Listen closely. The journey to the twelfth Card will three barters take. The first comes at water—a dark, mirrored lake. The second begins at the neck of a wood, where you cannot turn back, though truly, you should.” The Nightmare’s gaze shifted to Ravyn. His words came out sharp, as if to draw blood. “The last barter waits in a place with no time. A place of great sorrow and bloodshed and crime. No sword there can save you, no mask hide your face. You’ll return with the Twin Alders… “But you’ll never leave that place.”

“You agreed to marry Hauth, knowing you’d be tethering him to a family that carried sickness? You disgust me.” “The disgust,” Ione said, her tone idle, “is mutual.”

He’d laid his darkest truths before her in the cellar—practically pleaded with her to toy with him.

Elm lowered his voice. “And what happened the other night in the cellar? Is that something you’ll be able to live with?” Ione’s chest swelled, a beautiful breath—an up-and-down sweep not even that horrid dress could confound. “That depends on you, Prince.

“You’d like me to tell you all the things we might have done?” she asked. “Yes.” “In sordid detail?”

“Absolutely.” Ione ran the stem of the stylus down the center of her lips—looked him in the eye. “Beg me to.” Elm’s hand flexed. He hauled in a sharp breath—

“Taxus. My name is Taxus.”

“For mercy’s sake.” The Nightmare spat phlegm onto roots. “Shut the fuck up.”