Queen of Myth and Monsters (Adrian X Isolde, #2)

by Scarlett St. Clair

There was no room for vulnerability here, no room for forgiveness. It was conquer or be killed.

“I am thinking about how I will fashion a throne from Ravena’s bones.” The corners of Adrian’s lips curled, and he leaned closer, his breath on my lips as he spoke. “If that is your wish, I shall build it myself.”

“Give me your come and you can have my blood.” He chuckled breathlessly. “Oh, Sparrow. I will fill you to bursting.”

“Isolde,” he repeated quietly, and when I finally met his gaze, his stare was gentle. “You are my light.” I took his face between my hands. “You are my darkness,” I said and kissed him.

“I do not doubt you,” I said. “But it is for that reason I must speak with Gavriel. Your view of Lara was influenced by my father. How are either of us to know the truth?” “Is that an invitation to join you?” he asked. I studied him briefly and then said, “Only if you agree to wear my colors.” His jaw tightened. “Which colors?” “Red for Revekka, blue for Lara, and gray…for when I conquer Vela and free my mother’s people.” “You wish to conquer Vela?” he asked, his brows raising. “I will conquer Vela,” I said. “I will burn it to the ground.”

“Once again, you choose your queen over your people,” said Gesalac. “Is my love for Isolde your only critique of my reign? If so, I will have to assume you are jealous,” I said. “Are you in love with me, Gesalac?”

“You murdered my son.” “He is not the first son I have murdered, nor, I imagine, the last, but let us not pretend that your vengeance is fueled by fatherly devotion. You want my throne, my empire.” He chuckled. “What empire? What kingdoms have you conquered since you began fucking that woman?” I managed a smile despite how hard I clenched my teeth.

“My queen and I will conquer this world, and when we have our empire, we will fuck on a bed of your bones.”

“Aren’t you a beautiful beast?” he said. I narrowed my eyes at him, allowing a growl to escape my mouth. I did not appreciate his humor so shortly after becoming the very same creature that had killed so many of my people. I had become an aufhocker. I was an omen of death.

I hated the thought that these people might value me more for apathy, which would certainly be misinterpreted as strength, rather than my grief.

“Men want power,” Ana said. It was the first time she had spoken, and everyone at the table turned to look at her. “Women want to exist without fear.”

“My king, I did not mean—” he began. “You were not invited to speak,” Adrian said. “Though since you have endeavored to do so, let me be clear that your apology does not belong to me. It belongs to my wife. The very fact that you cannot see that is unforgivable.”

“Magic or not, you are no less valuable to me,”

“You said that with The Book of Dis, Ravena could resurrect the dead.” “The magic contained within that book is powerful enough, yes,” I said. “If that is what she intends, I do not know.” He was quiet for a moment and when he spoke, it was as if he were confessing. “Sorin found the gravesite of High Coven yesterday. It was empty.” Empty? I straightened at his words, confused. “But…we were burned.” Adrian’s jaw tensed. “I took what was left of the bones and ash and buried them in a single grave,” he said. “I…couldn’t leave you unburied.”

“Given yesterday’s attack, I do not think it wise to venture into the forest alone,” Daroc said, displeasure lacing his tone. “Your concerns are noted, General,” Adrian replied. “And yet you ignore me in favor of what? Pleasing your queen?” “How is it that you manage to continuously express both concern and disdain for my wife, Daroc?” “My concern is for your queen. My disdain is for you.”

“He is not wrong to express his concerns,” I said. “You could handle them with far more care than you did.” Adrian raised a brow. “You would have rather I agreed and declined your request?” “No, but you did not need to tell him his concern was a waste of time. That is unforgivable.” Adrian frowned. “What would you have me do?” “Apologize to him,” I said. “He was merely cautioning you.” “He implied I could not take care of you,” Adrian said, and his jaw tightened. “You assumed that is what he meant. Could that be because you weren’t here to care for me yesterday?”

Adrian moved my hair, exposing my neck, and pressed a kiss to my skin. “I am sorry,” he said. “For earlier.” “You’ll have to do more than kiss my neck to apologize,” I said. “Earlier you did not desire my touch,” he said. “Earlier you were a bastard,” I said.

“I have changed my mind so often, I no longer know how it will happen, but if I were to take you now, it would be within the grove where I buried you, and I would draw out your pleasure until you were delirious with need, until your body was hot and your blood rushing, until you forgot all the horror it took to get us here, and only then would I enter you.”

“Are you wet for me now?” “I would challenge you to find out,” I said. “But I would like to hear the rest.”

“The rest is simple,” he said. “I would fuck you to the point of climax and not let you come until I was ready to drink from you.” “So,” I said. “It isn’t unlike how you already take my blood?”

It also made me sick to think that someone—possibly Ravena—was in possession of my bones and those of my coven. We had learned early on as witches that any parts of a body, be it hair or nails or skin, were powerful conduits—they were links to the dead, to their memories, to their power. With them, she could siphon our magic, and while it would not be nearly as powerful, it was still dangerous, especially because she possessed The Book of Dis.

“We made love,” he said. “It was different from all the other times…and it has never been that way since. I never want it to be because I knew that you were only saying goodbye. I knew it even when you spoke of our future.”

“You wanted a quiet life with me at the base of this mountain,” he said. “We would have a farm and you would teach magic the way it was meant to be taught.”

“You named our children,”

“Cora, for a girl,” he said, and I swallowed something sharp and jagged in my throat, only to have it land uneasily in my stomach. Cora. I thought the name was so buried, I could hardly recall where I had heard it, but once the seed was planted, a woman formed around the name. She had a proud face and stood stoic and still. Her eyes were dark, both humble and fierce. She was beautiful, and an ache settled deep inside me at the fact that I did not know what had happened to her in the aftermath of my death.

This was Yesenia’s mother. My mother.

“Alek. For a boy,” I said. “After you.”

“Anything for you,” he said. “Promise me the world,” I said, breathing hard. “It is yours,” he said.

“Will you watch me burn again?” “You aren’t even a witch!” he yelled, his body shaking. “You have no power beyond driving me to the fucking edge of insanity.”

“You do not have to have lived a hundred years or even twenty. If your soul is tired, you will be tired.”

“You are the love of my life.”

“She will hate me for this,” I said. We still stood amid the crowd, though they kept their distance and no longer stared, uninterested in the interactions between a king and his general. “For this?” Daroc asked. “You have done much worse.” I scowled. “I do not need your commentary.” “Then how about some advice?” “Are you someone who should be offering it?” His jaw tightened. “Never mind. Your wife is right to hate you.”

“Words do not heal trauma,” she said. “Then tell me how I heal this.” “You don’t. You love me through the fear, even when my doubt hurts, and I will do the same for you.”

“I have loved you across lifetimes. Why would I stop now?”

“There were rumors for a long time after the Burning that Dragos was collecting spell books, that he maintained a secret library somewhere here in the castle.”

I knew the truth of this world, and the only way to survive as a woman with power was to use it.

“What do we really need?” I asked. “To summon Ravena,” she said. “And bind her magic.”

“That man…Solaris,” said Violeta. “He seems…cursed.”

“It’s as if he traded some part of himself for that hand,” she said. “It is the only piece of him that seems to have any magic, though I hesitate to call it such.”

Energy, it explained, is something to be harnessed. Spirit, while a form of energy, is sentient. It has influence and can morph on its own, which was even more unnerving considering how this book detailed their creation. Aufhockers are believed to have formed from pieces of human souls. Given that information, I was no longer surprised that they did not seem to have a solid form.

Over time, aufhockers seem to have chosen a primary shape, the most common being a large, black dog—or grim—due to its ability to successfully attack its prey. Once a solitary monster, these creatures can move in packs and act more like the vârcolaci—or werewolves—choosing a leader based on a show of their strength and ability. They avoid villages and tend to attack lone travelers.

There were others gathered in the courtyard—servants who had worked with her, villagers who loved her, and those who served closest to us, among them Killian. We took turns laying flowers around her—lavender, lilies, whatever had yet to die beneath the snow in the garden. I watched closely when it was Killian’s turn. His features were hard, but his eyes were sad, and he lifted his hand, hesitating before he brushed his fingers against her ruined lips. His mouth moved, but I could not hear what he said, and at some point, it felt too intimate to watch.

“You are the daughter of witches, as all women are,” she said, and she brushed a strand of hair from my face. “Magic is in our blood and bone; it is in the earth at our feet; it is in the very air we breathe.”

“Magic is not so serious,” she said. “It is many things—an essence that gives everything on earth life and an energy. You can harness that energy if you remain aware enough, but you have become so caught up in spells, in words, in shapes. You need none of that to call upon your power.”

“It is no fault of your own,” she said. “This world is afraid of powerful women.”

“Before Adrian was chosen as Dis’s incarnate, she had chosen you. She fed these spells to you,” said Ana. “You were to bring balance to the world, but of course, men got in the way.” “Dis hates me,” I said. “She hates you because she loves Adrian,” said Ana. “Then why did she allow me to incarnate again?” “To keep him on her side,” said Ana. “Though I think you know it is too late for that. That is why she takes control of him, to remind him that he is a pawn.” “And instead of destroying Dis, you wish to destroy Adrian?”