Even teen evil queens need love. Right? (Or at least a handsome sword-fighting minion to do their bidding!)
***
Bad things happen when Rowen is around and the worst part is, she has no idea why until a massive family secret sends her on a fantastica...
"There was a thick, cold fog clinging to our ankles and the moon was full."
"Isn't it always a full moon?"
"But there was also a comet streaking across the heavens."
"I mean, what happened that night that made it all go so wrong?"
"What else? It started with love. Doesn't it always?"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Is there anything more mortifying than throwing up on the boots of someone you recently imprisoned? If so, I'd like to know what that could be, because at that point, I wanted to jump into the cell's crevasse and start digging.
I swallowed hard, trying to rid my mouth of the foul taste, wishing for a toothbrush.
I couldn't face Blade, so I lay there on the floor with my eyes closed pretending to be dead (Yes, I said if I returned to the cell, it would be over my dead body, but this was a healthier option.)
Something poked me in the forehead. My eyelids opened without my permission, and there he was, Mr. Swashbuckling Annoyance, Minion to the Queen of Brittlebane kneeling beside me, his stupid curls flopping over his eyes, beckoning to be touched. "What are you doing?" I demanded, pushing his hand away even though part of me wanted to familiarize myself with every tendon, knuckle, and finger.
"Just checking that you're alive."
"That's how you check? By poking me in the forehead? Have you ever had a CPR class?"
Blade cocked his head like an inquisitive cockatoo. "A what?"
"You're supposed to look for a person's pulse, not poke them."
He shrugged. "I thought poking would be faster."
He had a point. I sat, wiping my mouth with the sleeve of my horse costume. "Sorry about messing up your boots. Though, to be truthful, you're lucky I hadn't eaten in a long time. Could've been worse."
"That's okay; it's not the first time," he said.
"So, girls routinely barf on your boots? Have you ever thought maybe it's you?"
He pursed his lips. (Have I mentioned how full and soft they looked? No? Okay, good, then pretend I didn't say anything.) "Do you always talk to people this way?"
"Only the ones that annoy me," I said. "So, yes."
"Good, just checking that it wasn't only me," he said, dark eyes twinkling like the night sky.
"Not at all, but you do seem to bring out the worst," I said, mostly to distract myself from his stupid eyes. "Did you mean what you said about me being evil?"
"Jury's still out, but since you came back ..." he arched his eyebrows so high, they disappeared into the curls. "You did come back for me, right?"
I couldn't let him think I was here to rescue him.
