Unlikely Queen (Crystal Castle 1)

“We had it handled,” she continues, seeing my reaction. “Mr. Know-It-All over there…” she grumbles, her thumb indicating to John, “…could have destroyed them.”

With a smile, he takes a step closer to her until his chest hovers slightly over her back. I watch curiously as my sister’s breath catches in response to John’s nearness. She can feel how close he is, and I’m not sure what is transpiring. Just a moment ago, she wanted to beat his head in, and now, she’s lost in his presence.

“Where is Tanya?” I ask in an attempt to bring everyone back to the present issue at hand.

Tatiana drops her head at the sound of our sister’s name, and it’s then I notice the bruises over her arms and neck.

“The angels have her still,” she admits, and a familiar rage courses through me. “I was allowed to leave…” she continues, “…because they believed you seeing me would bring you back.”

I remain quiet, lost in thought as I plan my attack.

“Who was he, Talia?” Tatiana questions me with a slight edge to her tone that I don’t appreciate. “There are whispers about him. Is it true? Is he… the Angel of Death?”

I nod slowly, and realization dawns on her pretty face.

“He is the Angel of Death,” I confirm.

“Then why did he save you, Talia? That’s not his role. The Angel of Death doesn’t save anyone. He takes away. What haven’t you been telling me?” I can feel everyone watching our tense interaction. Since it affects them, they, too, need answers. But Tatiana can sense my hesitation and turns to John. “We need some privacy,” she instructs with a hand on her hip.

My sister is bossy by nature, but John simply looks at her like she is the only one in the room. He isn’t fazed by her unwarranted aggression. Instead, he takes it in his stride, like he enjoys the challenge. I’m sure it isn’t every day a woman stands equal to him. The room clears with a few mutters and groans, but when it’s empty, my sister folds her arms and waits for me to continue talking.

“I’ve known him forever,” I admit, and her eyes go wide.

“How? I don’t understand. How is that even possible?” She shakes her head, adamant she’s missing something. “He was able to control the angels with such ease. No one has been able to do that, and now you’re telling me that the Angel of Death has been by your side your whole life?”

“Yes.” My answer is simple but effective.

Tatiana exhales heavily. I never told her because she would never have believed me. Just like now.

“He is the Angel of Death, Talia. This isn’t something to treat lightly.”

“I’m well aware of that. He protects me. He would never let anything happen to me. He’s kept me safe my whole life, and then once again yesterday.”

She looks unconvinced, like I’m covering for him.

“He. Is. The. Angel. Of. Death,” she reiterates slowly, succinctly.

“I know!” I’m exasperated by the whole discussion. I know she needed to know, but she wasn’t open to the truth at the time and I haven’t felt at any time up until now that she would even listen to me.

It isn’t until I follow Tatiana’s gaze over my shoulder that I realize no one will understand the relationship between me and the one they fear most. They think of him as a myth. Since those who see him never live long afterward to tell their story, he has always been feared should your time come to an end.

Now, it seems he is a lot closer than they all thought.

Death is coming for us all.

Chapter Seven

Tatiana is breathing lightly next to me, still sound asleep. After our discussion the night before, we—especially me—were completely drained and in need of rest. When used, my magic expels too much energy, and my recovery time is essential. Without pushing me further with her inquiry, I put the night’s horrors to the recesses of my mind and fell asleep before I even closed my eyes.

Sitting up, I spy John by the door, his gaze flicking between the happenings outside, keeping watch, and a slumbering Tatiana. My curiosity has been piqued.

“Why are you so interested in her?” I ask, keeping my voice low. If she knew we were talking about her, we’d all be in trouble.

John simply shakes his head. “She knows why.” A small smile plays on his lips.

I look down to my sleeping sister, then back to him. “This tension between you is driving us all insane. I’ve never seen anyone have this effect on her. She won’t tell me. She avoids the question when I ask. So… tell me. What is going on?”

John rubs his jawline, suddenly nervous to be talking. “She is my mate,” he says with pride.

His response surprises me, so much so, that saliva catches in my throat, and I start to cough.