Even teen evil queens need love. Right? (Or at least a handsome sword-fighting minion to do their bidding!)
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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...
"I'm here! I'm here!" He held me close, his breath, though so hot against my neck, sent cold shivers all the way to my toes.
"But for how long?"
"Forever?" he said.
"Nothing lasts forever," I laughed.
"Love does."
"You think so? Even after our sun explodes and is reduced to nothing more than stardust wafting in the void of space?"
"This is why I love you," he said. "Even with a pessimistic view like that, you persevere." He captured my mouth with his and kissed me so thoroughly, deeply, deliciously, that I forgot what we were talking about. I forgot that I even existed.
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As I cried into Cal's fur, I alternated between telling him how much I missed him and asking him how he found me, but in response, Cal just purred like a jet engine. Vermeil tried to climb into my lap as well. Cal wasn't having it, and our reunion turned into World War III, which I shall henceforth dub 'The Brittlebane Wars.'
So what I'm saying is, my familiar and my favorite cat did not get along.
By "not get along," I mean someone would not make it out of here alive. And that someone was probably me! As if being locked up wasn't bad enough, now I was locked up in the middle of World War III or, as I shall now call it, "The Brittlebane Wars." They seemed jealous of any affection I showed one or the other, like siblings vying for a parent's attention.
I'd always wanted a sibling, but this was making me reconsider.
I needed to find out what happened when Vermeil tried to get the key to Blade's cell in the dungeon, but for now, I had to hug Cal just a little longer.
Vermeil, giving up on a frontal attack, climbed up my back, his little sharp claws digging into my flesh, and dropped straight onto Cal. Cal sprang to action, teeth bared, claws out, hissing like a teapot, then swiped at Vermeil, trying to dislodge him from my lap, and from this mortal coil as well.
Vermeil toppled onto the floor in a somersault, squealing. Then he chomped down on Cal's tail. Cal leaped from my lap, hair standing on end, and pounced, only missing Vermeil by a fraction of an inch.
Then they collided into a ball of fur. Hissing, scratching, squealing. I worked my arms between them. But my goal of separating them only ended up with me getting bitten and scratched.
"Ouch! Hey, stop that, you two!"
They stilled, their little eyes looking up at me in the firelight with what looked like remorse. I laid a hand on each of them, pressing down to keep them from going at it again.
"Sorry, Boss," Vermeil said.
"Why can't you two get along?"
"Because he's a cat, and cats are inherently stupid?" Vermeil said.
