Court of Ice and Ash (The Broken Kingdoms, #2)

by L.J. Andrews

Lust for blood was still there. Heavy and palpable each time I rested a hand on the black iron axes tethered to my belt. A mute creature still lived, wanting blood, desiring the pain of it. As if the curse went on too long and now a bit of me would always be deadened to the warped beast I’d embraced time and again.

“I do enjoy listening to the both of you say thoughts out loud. Almost as if you’re convincing the fates that brought her to us, as if they care what you think. Elise is his hjӓrta, the song of our prince.”

Legends spoke of old fury that would connect two lovers in such a way their souls seemed to bond like a song’s harmony. Unbreakable.

My people. I could not be their prince. At least not the prince they wanted. But I could be the villain on their behalf. A rogue who brought Castle Ravenspire to its knees.

Tor cupped the back of my head, eyes locked with mine. “I am nothing but cruel, broken pieces of what I was because Sol is gone. There is an eternal hole in my chest, but you are my brother, and not once have I wished anyone else stood at my side.”

“He always will,” Tor snarled. “You will either be his rise or his downfall. And neither of you sees it.”

“Let them hurt me. At least then I know I still have a heart. I am unashamed to say if you die, then a piece of me dies with you. I love, and they use it against me, true. But I will never regret loving. Not even you,

Never did I anticipate such an infuriating, foolhardy, beautiful creature to take command of my every decision. I tried to keep a fair distance, tried to keep aloof, and I still cracked at the slightest thought of harm befalling her. She did not have fury, but she might as well have. Elise Lysander cast a spell over me. One I could not break.

“When someone trusts you so much that they reveal their broken, splintered pieces, you cannot unsee them. You help them mend. You share yours.”

“It isn’t every day a Kvinna gets on her knees.” I unlaced his trousers, looking at him through my lashes. “Would you like me to move, Night Prince?” Valen gripped my chin, his thumb tugging on my bottom lip. “You want me to fill your throat, Elise? Want a taste of me the same way I drank you up?”

“I’m yours, Kvinna. Take what you want from me.”

There was nothing as beautiful as a prince with the power to slaughter—a man who was more villain to most than friend—twist his features in undeniable pleasure. From my kiss. From my touch.

He didn’t care about anyone watching when he pulled me close and kissed me. Not long enough, and the kiss came from a place of fear. A tremble darkened his voice when he whispered against the curve of my ear, “Never doubt for whom my heart beats.”

“You might care with the best intentions, but I love her,” I shouted at them, finishing the rest over my shoulder as I walked away. “Go to Ravenspire for your reasons. I go for Elise Lysander.” No one followed me. No one tried to soothe me again. I stormed back to her shanty, locked the door. My back scraped over the wood as I slid to the ground. To the eaves I made a silent vow. By the end of tomorrow, I would find Elise. I could not stand any longer than that. By the end of tomorrow, I would be king.

“I have several,” I said evenly. “But most know me as Valen Ferus, the Night Prince.”

“My name is Valen Ferus, the Night Prince of Etta! And you, false king, you are in my seat.”

He covered my hand with his and pressed a kiss to my palm. “You should know, Kvinna, my heart and soul are yours for the taking.”

A confident grin spread over Valen’s mouth. His voice deepened. “Prepare to fight for your families! For your people and your land. This war never ended, but I swear to the gods, it will end with us. It begins now.”