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The Guardian. He was laughing. His silver eyes flashed white like lightning, and the smirk on his mouth stretched. Jackass. Margot gasped. Father’s jaw clenched. Damn. I guess I’d said that out loud. Well, he was a jackass for laughing. I opened my mouth, not to apologize but to say it again, this time more clearly, but a slice of my father’s hand through the air brought back that crushing silence.
The magic rooted deep in Calandra’s land tinged our irises at birth with those starbursts, linking us forever to a place. No matter where we lived, where we moved, that one color was unchanging. Every Quentin had an amber starburst. Every Quentin except me. My eyes were solid gold. Not a starburst in sight.
“The bride prize aside, we cannot afford to anger the Turans with a refusal. And we cannot break the Shield of Sparrows, not with the crux migration upon us. Mae was to go to Turah. You must take her place. You must be the Sparrow now.” It was another treaty signed in blood and sealed with magic.
A wing of silver was inlaid in a circle of gold. Except it wasn’t gold. The hue was red and orange and as bright as the harvest moon. It was a symbol I’d never seen before. I’d scoured books in the library. I’d drawn it out and taken it to the docks to see if anyone recognized the design. But after all these years, it remained a mystery.
I should have stayed in the water earlier. I should have let the currents sweep me into the depths of the Marixmore and let the monsters of those ocean waters claim my flesh. I should have kept swimming.
A King cannot kill his Sparrow, and a Sparrow cannot kill her King, either directly or indirectly, without death befalling them both.
“Come along, Sparrow. You’re late.” What if I pushed him overboard while we were at sea? Let the ocean do the killing for me. I almost liked the idea of watching that son of a bitch drown.
Last night, I’d mistaken Zavier’s voice for the Guardian’s. But they were as different as the green sails against the blue sky.
The Guardian smirked like he’d invented the gesture.
“Why me?” I blurted. “Why did you want to marry me?” If we were going to be tied together, I wanted an answer. Except Zavier stayed quiet, leaning his elbows against the railing, his tall, strong body bent in half. His gaze affixed to the horizon. “You’re really going to ignore me, huh?” The corners of his mouth turned up.
“Why did you choose me?” Like before, he didn’t answer. If he thought I’d stop asking, he was very, very wrong. “Do you desire me?” The question slipped past my lips before I could stop it. He cleared his throat, and I could practically see his mind racing for the gentle answer. “You’re a beautiful woman.” That meant no.
“Should I be worried about another marroweel attack?” “It’s unlikely. Though there are other beasts to fear on the Krisenth besides marroweels.” “Like you?” The retort came off my tongue automatically. A reflex.
“Not all monsters are born from the gods, my queen. Some of us were made.”
believed Zavier and his men would keep me safe. But what if I was tired of being kept? What if I didn’t want to rely on a man to be my rescuer? If I truly wanted to be in control of my destiny, then I couldn’t wait for someone else to save me from danger. The only person who was always going to fight for me was me.
“You can stop, Odessa,” Zavier said. I shook my head. “I can hold it.” “You’ll drop it on your toe.” “I’m fine.” Gods. I was going to drop this sword on my toe.
“Titles and roles don’t seem to matter as much in Turah.” “You’re still a princess, Highness. No matter where we are, you’re royalty. I am not.” What if I didn’t want to be royalty? What if I just wanted the chance to be kissed the way Tillia had been kissed?
Why was it that every time I brought up Allesaria, the mood would change?
“Anything else before we begin?” “Try not to fall on your ass.” I tried. I gave it my all. And failed miserably. He’d trip me, I’d fall. He’d push me, I’d fall. He’d look at me sideways, I’d fall.
I hated him. The end. Would he die from a fall off my treehouse balcony? Obviously he had survived the jump. But what if it was him landing on his back? Would his spine shatter? Would his neck snap? If I just pushed him over the railing the next time he invaded my privacy, would he die? A girl could dream.
My heart leaped at the same time it sank. It was the strangest sensation, so odd that I choked. “Good?” Tillia patted me on the back as I coughed. “Fine.” I nodded, rubbing at my sternum. He smirked. “Miss me, Cross?” “Never.” I was an awful liar.
He’s a monster. He’s a monster, he’s a monster, he’s a monster. A beautiful monster but a monster all the same. He’d killed Banner’s brother. He was a murderer. And I was married. Married. Married. Married. Shit, my face was hot.
Except as I lifted my hands, his gaze shifted over my shoulder. A slow smile stretched across his mouth. Soft lips. Straight, white teeth. Sparkling eyes. That smile was breathtaking. My heart fluttered for just a moment until I realized I wasn’t the person who’d earned that smile. It wasn’t for me. And I shouldn’t want it for my own. Gods, what was wrong with me? What was it about him that stuck?
“I miss home so much it hurts,” she said. “Don’t you?” “Yes.” No. Maybe I should be sad. Lonely for my family. Except I didn’t miss Quentis. Not really. I missed the sound of the ocean. I missed the pastries the castle’s chef would bake fresh each morning. I missed Arthy’s laugh when I’d sneak a treat into the nursery. But the rest? The castle. The city. My father and Margot.
His handwriting was not at all what I’d expected. It was neat and clean. Practiced. Regal. My own script was sloppier than his.
“I want to make a difference,” I said. “I want to do what’s right. I want to help.” The Guardian stilled but didn’t turn. “Get on the horse, Cross.”
But the truth I was terrified to admit, even to myself, was that I didn’t want to move.
“I hate you.” It should have broken the moment. It should have pissed him off. But he stared at me like I was something to behold. Something to cherish. Something to protect. “Yes, you do,” he said. “Don’t forget.” “Never.” There was no such thing as forgetting a man like the Guardian. Not for me.
“You don’t have to hide who you are, Cross. Not here.” Not in Turah. Not with him.
“Your stamina—” “Is shit.” I sighed. “I know.” “It’s better.” I feigned shock. “Was that… Did you just say I was improving?” “Don’t let it go to your head.” “Never.” A smile toyed on my mouth.
He took my face in his hands, dropping his forehead to mine. His thumb traced my cheek, and tingles exploded on my skin. “You’re okay.” Was he reassuring me? Or himself? “I’m okay.” He leaned away, my face still in his hands. Thumb still tracing. I never wanted it to stop, but as shouts rang through the trees, he let me go.
“Odessa, wait.” It wasn’t his order that made me stop. It was my name. I was always Cross or Sparrow or my queen. But rarely Odessa. I’d never loved my name more.
I couldn’t fathom the idea of Turah without the Guardian. I’d been in this kingdom for nearly two months, and somehow, he’d become the center of this new life. The axis I seemed to orbit. He saw me in a way that no one else had ever tried. He didn’t stifle my sarcasm or snide remarks. He teased me about the questions, but lately, he’d indulged my curiosity the way he did Evie’s. He gave me the freedom to be myself. To stop hiding. He was a man who’d follow me off the cliff, who’d jump at my side, not pull me away from its edge. He couldn’t die. I refused to believe that was his only fate.
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“People don’t seem to know I’m married to Zavier. He hasn’t even told Evie. Also, I’m no queen.” “Yet here you are, helping to save our people.” I shrugged. “It’s the right thing to do. For all of Calandra.” He reached out and flicked the end of a curl. “Spoken like a queen.” “Stop.” I bristled, swatting him away. “I don’t want to be a queen.” “Tough shit.”
“You’re really keeping the cat?” Ransom asked. “Did you think I’d change my mind?” “Honestly? Yes.” I smiled at Faze. “I guess I have a soft spot for monsters.” Maybe they were all more than they seemed. Or maybe this little tarkin would kill me in my sleep.
Do you have a problem with Ramsey?” “Something like that.” He glanced over his shoulder, eyes meeting mine. I expected him to disappear into his room, but he paused, staring at me like there was something important on his mind. Something he needed to say. “What?” I whispered. Tell me. Just tell me. He shook his head. “Nothing. Good night, my queen.” Blarg. “Good night, Ransom.” His eyes went from green to hazel in a blink. He walked into his room and slammed the door. The lock flipped. Did he regret telling me his name? Well, too bad. I liked saying it.
Everything I’d been raised to believe seemed fragile. My father had asked me to trust him. I had trusted him. I did trust him. But… Could I betray the Turans? No. No, I couldn’t. Even with the uncertainty about the coming migration. Even facing Ramsey. I couldn’t betray Tillia or Luella or Cathlin or Zavier. I couldn’t betray Ransom. He might not trust me. But somewhere along the way, he’d earned my loyalty.
I wasn’t going to let him harm these people.
I whirled, finding Ramsey on his horse, watching the fiasco with a glint of approval in his eyes. “Coward.” His eyebrows arched. “What did you call me, Princess?” “I called you a coward.” The gasps at my back only fueled my rage. “Watch yourself, girl. Your ignorance is showing.” “As is your true nature,” I spat. “Only fools and liars burn books and people’s homes.” Ramsey leaned forward in his saddle. If he thought it would intimidate me, he was sorely mistaken. I squared my shoulders and let the two words in my mind bleed all over my face. Fuck. You.
“What happened with his brother?” I asked. “I killed him.” That, I already knew. “Why?” “Because he was the man who took those girls in Westor.”
“I was just another man at the king’s disposal.”
“I told you to stay quiet today.” “I couldn’t help myself. He made me mad.” “Gods save the men who make you mad.” He shook his head, and then a chuckle came from his throat. It preceded a smile. A real smile, wide and white. My heart skipped. It was a smile to chase away that sullen fog. A smile to brighten a miserable day. A smile, just for me.
“Now what?” I asked. “Nothing has changed, Cross. The goal is the same. Kill the monsters. Find the source.” “And a cure.” He sighed. “There is no cure.” I didn’t have the energy for a debate today.
“Zavier is in Ellder?” “Yes.” Dread pooled in my gut. Not the feeling a wife should have at the prospect of seeing her husband again. “That’s wonderful.” Ransom stared at my profile, his gaze burning into my cheek. “Is it?” “Of course.” We both knew I was a horrible liar.
Ransom wasn’t mine. He wouldn’t be mine. “I have to let go.” “Of what?” “You,” I whispered. “You are not mine to keep.” He breathed, shifting so close his chest brushed against my back. “What if I was yours?”
But then I saw you, and everything changed.” “What did you do?” “I decided to set you free.”
“You are not chained to Zavier.” “There’s a treaty somewhere on this continent that proves otherwise.” Ransom growled. “Who did you exchange vows with, Odessa?” “Zavier.” He’d stood at my side. He’d signed his name in blood. He’d vowed. Except he hadn’t uttered a word. Not once. The Guardian, Ransom, had volunteered to speak for his prince. Oh, gods. The color drained from my face.
Twin scars. The scars of a Sparrow. And her king. “With my blood,” he said. “With my oath spoken.”
“You are the crown prince. It was all a ruse.” “Not all of it.” His eyes darkened, shifting to that forest green as he took my arms, keeping me on my feet. Pulling me close and into his chest. “You have always been my queen.” My queen. How many times had he called me that? How many times had he referred to me as the Sparrow? Countless. He was the crown prince. Ramsey’s son. There was a reason Tillia didn’t bow to Zavier. Didn’t call him by a title. It wasn’t Zavier’s to claim.
“You lied to me.” “Yes.” “I hate you.” The lie came off my tongue, past my teeth, and for once, it sounded convincing. “Yes, you do.” Ransom tucked a curl behind my ear. Then left me alone.
What if this kiss was just another lie?
