Unlikely Queen (Crystal Castle 1)

“He’s right, it’s signing your own death warrant. And my guess is that’s exactly what the queen wants,” Patrick remarks.

“We have to, and you can’t stop us. So please move so we can get our things and go.”

“It gets frigidly cold at night in the forest,” a woman says.

We turn to face an old woman who’s barely standing. One eye is missing, and she stares at us with the only one that works. Her stoop reminds me of a witch from a fairy tale. If she had a wart on her nose, she would be perfectly cast.

“And you’ll need more than what you’re wearing. Lots more. Don’t eat the food. Take your own. And remember, everything you see can and will deceive you.”

“How do you know?” my sister asks.

The old lady simply smiles in answer before she walks off with her cane in hand and her old woolen dress fluttering around her ankles.

“Margaret doesn’t know what she is talking about. She whispers about secrets that most think are false,” Patrick assures while watching the old lady walk away. “But maybe she has seen more than anyone has given her credit for. Who knows? One thing I do know is, you are not going alone.”

“We don’t need you to come. We have done mostly everything alone. And you have your pack here. You can’t simply get up and leave them.” Patrick looks to John, who has his arms crossed over his chest.

“I can’t leave,” John says as his eyes fall to Tatiana. “And I ask that you don’t leave either.”

She scoffs at his words.

“That’s not going to happen. Ever.” She turns and walks inside to grab our things. She steps back out with two bags and a jacket, which she throws at me. “Put this on, we’re leaving now.”

I do as she says and pull on the jacket. When I turn to look at John, he’s pulling at his hair, his skin bunching at the sides of his eyes in a pained stare.

“Patrick is going with you.”

Patrick comes closer, his own bag thrown over his shoulder and he’s wearing a jacket as well.

“Tatiana,” John says her name, but she doesn’t turn around. He stalks over, spins her to him, and grips her shoulders in his hands as he stares at her. “Don’t die.”

She simply nods. “It’s not in my mission plan to die.”

“Good, because I would hate to come after you. Not even death could stop me.” She snorts at his words, and he leans in fast. Before Tatiana can stop him, his lips touch hers, and I watch with amusement as she goes still. She didn’t expect him to kiss her, but when his hands move to her hair, sliding through it gently, and he tugs at the ends, holding her in place, she drops the bag and steps closer to him so their bodies are touching. I look away as they deepen the kiss.

Staring out at the dark, almost black, night sky, I know we have to go because it’s now or never. We don’t know what they’re doing with Tanya. The queen has a reputation for being ruthless, and Tanya, well, her coping mechanisms are not good. The problem with Tanya is that she’s pure—probably one of the kindest and gentlest people you would know.

“I have to go,” I hear Tatiana say.

“Just promise you will come back to me,” John says. The pain is evident in his voice as he says it.

“I don’t make promises,” is all she replies as I feel her come up next to me. She faces me, and I have to contain the smile at seeing her lips all red and puffy from that kiss. “Don’t say it,” she whispers to me.

“Wasn’t going to say a thing.” Her emerald eyes hit me before she pulls her jacket on and starts to walk. Patrick says a few words to John before he comes up behind us, completing our group.

We walk in silence. The wolves have a large ward due to them needing to hunt and run. We walk for hours before we finally reach the border. It’s weaker at the back, because most people don’t want to cross here as it only leads to one area—the Viper Forest. And no one wants to go in there. Well, no one who is sane. And let’s face it, no one has lived to tell the tale, so we have no idea of what’s inside and how we will combat it.

Tatiana grabs my hand and starts chanting to break a hole in the ward. It ripples and a fine crack soon appears which creases and curls into a larger hole. Patrick is the first to go through, followed by me, then Tatiana, and we turn back to watch the hole slowly close behind us.

“Have either of you been this far?” Patrick asks, looking around to the border before his kind eyes find us.