To break his family's curse, Faolan mac Domnall seeks to marry the beautiful Saoirse, princess of Mide. Spirited and outspoken, the wild Saoirse wants nothing more than to escape the life that's been decided for her. Determined to outmaneuver a twis...
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The frost at his eyelashes obscured his vision, leaving the world in a chaotic flurry of icy whiteness. The hand at his wrist burned like a brand. Despite his thick clothes, it seared with such intense coldness that his skin blistered beneath the frozen fingers. Though he wanted to cry out, his teeth clenched shut at the brunt of the wintry assault. Each breath drew that frost-bitten wind into his aching chest. The cold pain of it drowned out thought, drowned out memory, drowned out his name.
Just when he feared the world might freeze solid, the cold released him.
Gasping for breath on his hands and knees, Faolan marveled at the strangeness of feeling warm while half-buried in thick snow. The wonder only lasted a heartbeat. In a horrified moment, Faolan realized that it was the absence of that icy touch which made the snowdrift as warm as spring.
"Rise, my tender-hearted knight," a voice commanded. It was as rich as cream, sweet as honey.
Though his muscles ached in the chill, Faolan stood slowly and shakily, compelled to obey. He brushed the crystalline cold from his eyes, leaving a rough prickling on the wind-chapped skin.
Tall and lovely stood the human shape of winter, draped in a gown of fresh snow. The long strands of her silvery hair glowed in the starlight, under the sapphire and violet expanse of winter sky. At her brow, a crown of birch branches glittered with frozen dew. Beneath it, eyes brighter and deeper than a frozen sea followed him, alight with amusement.
The fae queen.
No other creature could appear so perfect, and yet, she was horrifying.
She cursed Siofra, Faolan's heart whispered. She cursed a child for another's mistake.
The image of the face frozen in tree bark surfaced, the sound of her raspy voice, the bitter frustration of her lost fingers. Just as Siofra's rough exterior hid gentleness, this lovely face masked cruelty. Hot anger brewed within him.
"I'm not yours, Your Majesty," he replied, the steam of his breath rising around him.
The secret satisfaction that twisted her smile sent a bolt of dread to Faolan's gut. Despite her unblemished youth, her unearthly beauty, an ancient wickedness stirred behind those glacial blue eyes.
"Come," she murmured, holding out her hand. Faolan stared at her in incredulity. He rubbed the stinging, blistered skin of his forearm.
Laughter like diamonds, like frozen rain, rang around them.
"You'll get used to the cold with time."
She waited, patiently smiling, her marble skin glowing in the starlight.
Her beauty dominated the world around them. For it was only then that Faolan considered his surroundings. The shimmer of the night sky, the music of the wind through snow-touched crystal leaves—the enchanting loveliness of Otherworld was not unfamiliar to him.
