Stolen (The Coldest Fae Book 2) Read online

  Stolen

  The Coldest Fae, Book 2

  Katerina Martinez

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  28. Epilogue

  Also by Katerina Martinez

  About the Author

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  “I’m gonna be sick.”

  “You can’t be sick,” Gullie said, “It’s your turn next.”

  I tucked my head into my knees and shut my eyes. “That’s why I’m gonna be sick.”

  The little pixie was nestled inside of my hair. She moved behind my neck, from my left ear to my right. “Relax, okay? You need to be on your toes out there. Literally. Keeping light on your feet is our only strategy.”

  I groaned. “Please, stop talking about the trial and start talking about something else.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I would talk about the weather, but we live in a castle, at the heart of a frozen wasteland, stuck in perpetual winter. What else is there to talk about?”

  “Gull, I’m on the verge of a panic attack. I barely made it out of the last trial with my life, and they haven’t even waited a week before hurling me into another one. I’m not ready.”

  “Tell that to whatever’s waiting for you out there.”

  “I can hear the sarcasm in your voice, you know.”

  “Good, so I got the point across.”

  I picked my chin up and turned my head to the side. “Is this your attempt at tough love?”

  “This is me reminding you that I don’t want to die, and neither do you. Are we gonna do this, or what?”

  “You know, whatever’s out there, we probably don’t stand a chance.”

  “We’ve gotten this far, right? The Hexquis, the Wenlow. You’ve battled creatures you never would’ve dreamed of before we got here. We can handle this.”

  “I mean… battled is a strong word. The Hexquis clamped that huge, awful mouth of hers around my head, and Mira killed the Wenlow, not me.”

  “Okay, so we survived a couple of battles. This won’t be any different. Fancy feet, okay? Like Mira has been teaching you all week.”

  “Fancy feet,” I repeated, nodding. Then I paused. “I still feel sick.”

  Gullie huffed. “You’re impossible.”

  The large, white door to the waiting room Gullie and I had been sitting alone in opened with a loud thunk. It was the first sign of life I’d had since this round of trials started, at least an hour ago. The man who opened it was tall, built like a bear, and clad in blue and white full-plate armor; the colors of Windhelm, the seat of the Winter Court.

  I stood, expecting him to call me out, but he stepped aside to let someone come through and into the room. It wasn’t Mira, my custodian and mentor. It wasn’t Prince Cillian Wolfsbane, the man responsible for my being here. It was Aronia, daughter of the Commander of the King’s Guard, and the woman whose life I had saved less than a week ago.

  “Lady Aronia,” said the guard, “I can give you mere seconds.”

  Aronia nodded at the guard as she entered the room. She looked magnificent in her tightly wrapped black leather; muscular, strong, healthy. Her turquoise hair had been tied into a thick braid, then draped across one shoulder. Hanging from the base of the antlers that curved around her skull were thin, golden chains adorned with little bits of jewelry.

  She looked all manner of kick-arse, and I couldn’t help but feel instantly intimidated.

  But then she smiled, and extended her hand, palm up. “I wanted to wish you good luck before your trial,” she said.

  I stared at her palm for a long moment, dumbfounded. “I… thank you.”

  Shaking her head, but never losing her smile, she took my hand and placed it in hers, so our palms touched. “Your parents never taught you how to wish another fae good fortune?”

  “No… they didn’t. In fairness, they weren’t around a lot.”

  “That’s unfortunate.” She paused. “I also wanted to thank you. I have not had the opportunity to come and see you since… what happened in the forest.”

  An image flashed into my mind, brief but violent. I saw the Wenlow, that awful, giant, lanky monster covered in shaggy white fur, with the massive eyes and the ear-to-ear mouth. I saw it hunched over Aronia, saw her pained eyes as she struggled with the paralysis afflicting her, saw it dip its claws into her open stomach a second time and then lick its hands of the blood.

  I thought she was going to die.

  She probably thought the same.

  I nodded. “You don’t have to thank me.”

  “I do. In fact, I have to do more than thank you.” Aronia slowly dropped to one knee, my hand still held in hers. “I pledge to you, Dahlia, an Oath of Service.” She turned her eyes up at me. “I am at your service.”

  “Aronia, you… I mean, this—”

  “—don’t ruin this!” Gullie hissed. “If you refuse, you’ll do her a dishonor. Accept.”

  “I… accept,” I said, offering her a light nod.

  Aronia stood, then pulled my hand to her chest. “You saved my life when most would’ve let me die. I will not forget this.”

  “Lady Aronia,” came the voice from the door, “You are out of time.”

  She turned her head and nodded at the guard, then looked at me. “It’s your turn,” she said, and then she pressed her cool cheek against mine and whispered, “Don’t look them in the eyes; that’s how they cower you.”

  Aronia pulled away, letting our hands slide apart before sauntering through the door and disappearing down the hall. The guard jabbed a finger at me. “You,” he said, “Let’s go.”

  I frowned. He sounded more like a jailor marching a prisoner, than a guard escorting a contestant in the Royal Selection, but I didn’t let his tone get to me. Aronia’s warning had been cryptic, and short, and it had left way too much to the imagination. Don’t look at them in the eyes? What the hell was I going up against?

  “Gull,” I dared to whisper, knowing the guard was walking only a few paces ahead of me.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You don’t think we’re going up against another Hexquis, do you?”

  “I really have no idea. She could’ve given you more information.”

  “I don’t think she had the time.”

  “Oh, sure, when it comes to pageantry and putting on a good show, she has time. Take a knee, do a weird hand thing, explain it too. Oh, and by the way, make sure not to look at this monster in the eyes—'kay? Bye!”

  “I’m sure she had her reasons.”

  “Maybe she was trying to intimidate you?”

  “She did that without talking. And anyway, I’ll agree with you that most fae are jerks—”

  The guard turned his head and glared at me. “What did you say?” he grunted.

  I froze in the spot where I’d been standing and stared at him, doe eyed. “Uh… nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

  His glare intensified, his eyes narrowed, then he pointed at a large door. “Go through. Now.”
/>
  Swallowing hard, I gave the guard as much of a wide berth as I could—which wasn’t easy, considering he was so large he almost filled the corridor we’d been walking in. When I reached the door, it started to open on its own, letting light from the other side begin to spill past the opening.

  “I know you were about to defend her,” Gullie said, “But that guard just made half your point, at least. Most fae are jerks.”

  I took a deep breath. “Let’s just get through this,” I whispered. “I need you.”

  “I’m here.”

  The doors opened to a roaring fanfare of cheers, and trumpets, and light so bright it was almost blinding. I put my hand up, creating a cover for my eyes to shield myself against the worst of the brightness. The arena was packed, the stands filled with beautiful fae wearing glamorous outfits that shimmered as they clapped their hands.

  I felt small, exposed, vulnerable. There had to be at least a few hundred fae here, carefully studying me, trying to figure out how well I would do in the upcoming trial. From the royal balcony, Queen Haera and King Yidgam watched on.

  The Queen looked down her nose at me; gorgeous, stunningly elegant with her teal hair and those long, thin antlers growing out of her forehead, but only slightly interested. The King, a bear of a man with thick, black hair adorned in a furry black cloak had a silver chalice in his hand. He watched me from above the rim of the chalice, his intense, sky-blue eyes impossible to miss even from a distance.

  My heart skipped a beat when I couldn’t find the Prince seated at his chair beside his parents. I took a tentative step into the arena, letting my eyes now fall level with the space I was about to enter. It was vast, and round; the floor made of deep, blue marble, like arctic ice.

  Breaking the ice at several points were large, white-framed mirrors, carefully positioned so they would shine the light from the sun directly into the face of contestants as they entered the arena. My heart started pounding when I saw them because I couldn’t understand what they were for. I saw myself reflected in each and every one of them, despite how far away from me they seemed.

  The door behind me shut with a loud thud, the crowd fell silent, and I was left staring at the mirrors before me. Fingers of icy air wisped off them as the breeze rolled past. I took another step forward, clutching the handle of my dagger. I had no idea what was waiting for me in here, but at least I wasn’t making a tit out of myself as I had the first time I’d presented myself to the court.

  Keep your chin up. Give them a show. Win.

  Those had been Mira’s simple instructions. If she were here right now, she’d have suggested I give a little curtsy, so I did, just as Mira and I had practiced. To my surprise, the crowd of gathered courtiers vibrated as a light round of applause rippled through it.

  “That was good,” Gullie whispered. “You’re learning quick.”

  “Not quick enough,” I mumbled.

  “Dames and gentlefolk!” boomed a loud, deep voice from… somewhere. Everywhere. I now knew this voice belonged to Lord Bailen, a fae with a rather impressive, and slightly curled moustache, but I couldn’t see him. “We bring you the final spectacle of this wonderous day—Dahlia.”

  The sound of my name triggered more applause, and a little more fanfare from the trumpets. I didn’t care for it. I wanted to retreat, to hide from the attention, but there was literally nowhere to run.

  “Dahlia, my dear,” came Lord Bailen’s voice as if through a PA system. “They say before you can defeat an enemy in battle, you must face and defeat your own fears. Before you are a number of mirrors. The task is simple. Confront your fear, reach the dais on the other side of the coliseum, and stand proudly before the court.”

  There was no cheering now, no trumpets, no clapping. The crowd was absolutely silent, courtiers watching intently from their seats—and still no Prince. Another couple of steps brought me close to the first mirror, a slender, ornate piece of furniture that would probably be priceless back on Earth.

  I saw myself approach in the mirror’s reflection; a slender girl all clad in black leather armor, clutching the handle of the dagger attached to her waist. I still couldn’t believe how different I looked now than what I had back home. On Earth I had mousy brown hair, with rounded ears, and skin that was too pale.

  Here, my hair was silver, my cheeks were nice and high, my eyes were sharp, teal, and bright, and my ears were as tall and as pointed as the rest of the fae around me. I was a totally different person, and yet, I somehow felt more like myself than I had ever felt back home.

  From out of the corner of my eye, I caught movement on the royal balcony. A door had opened, and Prince Cillian came hurrying down a small set of stairs to take his seat. My heart leapt at the sight of him, with his black hair and his curved antlers; a splitting image of his parents. He looked a little hurried, a little flustered, as if maybe he’d rushed to get here.

  Rushed for me?

  Don’t be stupid.

  After a short nod from the Prince, I turned to gaze at my reflection in the mirror again. I eyed myself up and down, then scanned around my own reflection to figure out what exactly I had to do, but I was coming up short.

  “I mean…” I trailed off. “Am I supposed to be scared of myself? Because I’m not very frightening.”

  I had asked Gullie, but it was my reflection that replied. “Are you sure?”

  Chapter 2

  I had never feared my own reflection, but my reflection had never answered back before. I jumped back, drawing my dagger and aiming its sharp, narrow tip at… myself. Eerily, the woman staring back at me hadn’t moved. She remained where she stood, her eyes low, and dark, her chin turned down slightly, making her look a little more sinister.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” my reflection said.

  My world started tilting, and I remembered Aronia’s words. I turned my eyes down, staring at my reflection’s boots instead of her eyes. That helped. I no longer felt like I was about to topple over. “You’re not real,” I said, my voice echoing throughout the coliseum as if it had been amplified.

  That means they can all hear you.

  “I think you’ll find me to be real as you are, and it’s about time we got acquainted, don’t you think?”

  I wanted to look at her. My eyes kept trailing up her leg, to her bare midriff, to her chest. They wanted to reach her eyes like they were drawn to her, but I couldn’t let them. “What are you?”

  “Don’t you recognize me? Haven’t you seen this face in the mirror every day of your life?”

  “Until I got here, I didn’t look like this.”

  She took a step toward the edge of the mirror. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  Right before my eyes, her body started to flake away into wisps of white and blue light that swirled around her like a flurry of brilliant, sparkling snow. The light filled the mirror, streaks of color shooting left and right, up, and down. I didn’t know where to look until the image settled, and the woman staring back at me was… me.

  Me before all of this.

  I swallowed the ball of emotion welling up inside of my throat. I hadn’t seen myself, my real self, since I’d gotten here. Mira had made sure her fae glamor was strong enough to wipe away any trace of my human nature, and boy if she hadn’t done a bloody good job of it. I had almost forgotten the girl looking out at me from within that enchanted mirror.

  “Better?” she asked, cocking a grin.

  My eyes focused on her lips, though I could tell something was wrong with her eyes. The skin under them wasn’t quite… bright enough, as if she hadn’t slept in weeks. “Not really,” I said.

  “Then, why are you frightened?”

  “I’m not scared of you.”

  She took another step toward the edge of the mirror. “That’s not what I see. I see your fear, Dahlia. I know what hurts the most—” she tapped her chest, “—in here.”

  My eyes glanced over at the podium on the other side of t
he coliseum. Lord Bailen had said, all I had to do was reach it, and I would pass this trial. There were several other mirrors between me and it, though—some tall and thin, others short and wide. Each and every one of them seemed to catch my reflection somehow, despite the angles being all wrong.

  “Yeah, well, you’re in there, and I’m not,” I said, “So, good luck with that.”

  I turned to the side and started walking, moving away from the first mirror and trying to go around the second one. It was weird how, no matter how I moved, the mirror kept hold of my reflection despite the mirror itself not moving.

  It reminded me of the portrait of my headmaster back at school. She was a tall, gaunt, old woman with a severe, lined face and deep, inset eyes who never had a kind or encouraging word to say about anyone. Kids called her the watcher because she’d stand outside of our classroom windows and watch us work, silent, unmoving, and creepy as all hell.

  When she died, the school had her obnoxiously huge portrait moved near the school’s main entrance. From there, she could watch us all as we came in and out of the building, her eyes following us the whole time.

  I moved around the second mirror hoping to find a back panel, but instead I found another pane of glass. A flash of light played on its surface as I rounded it, only this time I didn’t see myself or my old reflection playing on its surface, but that awful picture of the watcher.

  My heart leapt into my throat when I saw it. This time, I staggered back a few steps, almost losing my footing. “Holy shit,” I shrieked, after I’d regained myself.

  “Young lady, did you just swear in my presence?!” the watcher said, her voice—eerily accurate—booming through the arena.