Mountains Made of Glass (Fairy Tale Retelling, #1)

by Scarlett St. Clair

“You are poison, sweet creature. I want you in my blood.”

I never expected this strange fae to become the center of my universe, but I would lie beneath him forever if I could feel like this every second of every day.

Here, where there was no pain and no loss. Here, where I was not alone.

“You were made for this,” I said. He smiled and asked, “Made for what, sweet creature?”

“Heartbreak.”

Casamir pulled back, bracing his arms on either side of my head, and watched me with an intensity that made me feel raw and exposed, as though he could see my heart and how it beat hard for him.

I pressed my palms against the headboard to keep my head from hitting it. Casamir seemed to notice because he placed his hands atop my head, and then he kissed me, moving harder, faster, deeper.

A gentleman

“You know you do not have to speak,” Casamir said. “I only wish to offer a compliment,” the mirror said. “You have improved since last time.”

Lololol

“You do not keep animals, but you keep humans?” “Animals are pure of heart,” he said. “Humans are not.”

“So…has she fallen for you yet?” he asked. “Would you be here if she had?” The prince paled, but he was not deterred. “But you have fallen for her?”

“I only know that I do not wish to know the world without her.”

Naeve, who had been making my bed, yelped as I landed on the mattress. I ignored her, reached for a pillow, covered my face, and screamed. “Feeling better?” the mirror asked when I was finished. “No,” I said, the pillow muffling my snappy response. Naeve yanked it off my face and then hit me with it. I scowled at her, and she hit me again.

“She makes me feel like it won’t matter if I have a name or not. So long as I know her, I will know myself.”

Someone sedate me fr

“Do you even like picnics?” I asked. “I like anything with you,” he said.

It was off the shoulder with a laced front, which I tied loosely. The fabric was nearly see-through, as the fairies were keen to craft. I slipped on a pair of flat shoes and checked the mirror. My hair was wild and wispy from our earlier ride to the willow tree, and I smoothed it into a braid before I left for the courtyard, unable to calm the strange fluttering in my stomach.

Lemme wear it

He wore black trousers and a loose white shirt, the collar of which was open, exposing the long column of his neck and chest, his creamy skin marked by my mouth.

He held out his hand, and as I took it, he drew me to him, his arm snaking around my waist. “You are beautiful,” he murmured. I smiled up at him. “You are getting very good at giving that compliment.” His fingers touched beneath my chin. “It is easy to say when it is the truth.”

Trees with crooked and twisting trunks framed the space, but it was beneath the tallest one that our picnic was splayed on a white quilt. Amid bouquets of small, pink flowers and pillar candles were bottles of wine, plates of meat and cheese, and sweet treats.

If he wanted to he would

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Nothing,” he said. “I am just trying to memorize you.” “Are you saying you will forget me?” I asked, my tone light, teasing, but he frowned and I felt the dread blossoming inside me. “I don’t know.”

SOMEBODY SEDATE ME

“I wish that I could have at least given you freedom,” he said. “I do not wish for you to watch me fade away.” There was something in his dark and deep eyes I had never seen before—a hint of fear—and it felt like it was more for me than for him. My heart stuttered in my chest. “You won’t,” I swore. “I will remind you of who you are.” “Every day?” he asked. “Until you remember.” “I will never remember.” “Will you remember me?” I asked, voice trembling slightly, unable to keep my fear at bay. “I never wish to forget you.”

WHY AM I CRYING

I wanted Casamir to love me because I loved him, but I needed his name.

Anguish.

“I lied,” he said. “When you asked what I wanted most. I want you. I know myself when I am with you.”

“She is not a beast,” said Casamir’s voice. “But I surely am.” The thorn and shadow of my dress began to move, sliding over my skin. “What witchcraft is this?” Roland demanded as Casamir took form behind me, his arm banded around my breasts, hiding my nakedness now that I no longer wore his gown of thorns.

“Yes,” I said. “You asked who I was now that I had survived the forest? Here is your answer. I am Ella, lady of thorns and keeper of wings, wife of the seventh brother, and I have come to wish you only Anguish.”

“I love you, Anguish of Thorn.” He pressed a hand to the side of my face, aligning our lips. “I love you, Gesela of my heart.”