Unlikely Queen (Crystal Castle 1)

“Do you think mother would be proud?” I ask.

Our mother is the one who taught Tatiana how to fight. Tatiana had more of a connection to her than I did because she was older and understood more. To me, Tatiana raised me, and therefore, she is the one who taught me almost everything I know.

“I’m proud of you, so I know she would be.”

We don’t talk about her much, or her death—it was the sickness. And I don’t really remember too much other than what my sisters tell me.

“I’m proud of you, too. I want you to know that,” I say, stepping up and wrapping my arms around her neck. She hugs me back, both of us still clutching our knives. When we pull away, she slides her knife into her pants at the back, and I mirror her actions with mine.

“But we aren’t complete without Tanya,” Tatiana says, and I nod in agreement. Patrick slides in next to me as we make our way out of the cave.

When we reach the entrance, the sun is up and it’s warm.

“Okay, this place is weird,” I state categorically while looking around. “It feels so safe. So good.” And it does, but I know it’s all a lie. This place is death. Despair. Misery. Gloom. There is nothing good about this forest. Everything in it is either lifeless or inanimate. Nothing is as it seems.

Patrick starts to growl, his ears pointed forward as his lips form into a snarl. I follow his line of sight, and what I see has me standing stock still.

How is that possible?

I have heard of monsters in stories, but this? I don’t even know how to describe this.

It’s a group of women—four and counting—standing on the other side of the river. They are on fire. Literally. Their faces are hard, almost scaly, the same as the bird thing that had its claws in me.

“You aren’t welcome here.” The one who has stepped forward, close to the riverbank, speaks. “And you will die like all the others who have threatened to come onto our land.” Her hand raises, and on it she seems to form a fireball.

Tatiana’s hand reaches for mine and she digs her nails in. “We mean you no harm,” Tatiana tries to say, but they don’t listen.

We turn when Patrick starts to growl louder, stepping in front of us and blocking our path. One of the women, if you can even call them that, throws the fireball toward Patrick. He manages to move, but not before it skims across his back, leaving his fur singed. He growls even louder, and I reach out to stop him from lunging forward.

The leader looks at us and smirks. “I never miss,” she says through razor-sharp teeth.

“There is always a first for everything,” I reply as Tatiana and I step forward so we are now standing next to Patrick. She throws again, and this time, she misses completely, which only angers her, making her step closer to us.

Tatiana and I have our knives in our hands which we pulled out when we spotted the women, and I watch as Tatiana raises hers so fast that when she flings it, it hits the woman in the shoulder, making her scream out like some sort of banshee as the wall of fire that surrounds her extinguishes.

Gone is the appearance of scales and razor teeth. What now stands before me is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen.

Her hair is violet, and it cascades in long locks down her back. All that covers her body is a small, white wrap-around cloth. Her full lips are pressed into a harsh line, and she looks at her shoulder, the lines between her brows deepening.

“How…” Tatiana says in shock.

I stare at the woman who’s even angrier than before but no longer has fire covering her body.

“We mean you no harm,” I say.

Her eyes, which are violet as well, lock onto me. “Harm,” she says in a sing-song voice. It’s almost like listening to music, which we rarely hear anymore. “You will die for this… slowly and in pieces.”

Patrick growls next to me, and I reach for him with my free hand, trying to calm him down. But I can feel the anger emanating from his fur as I hold him tightly to my leg.

“Look, bitch, you came here to us. We didn’t come for you. You threaten us, and we will defend ourselves.” My eyes go wide at Tatiana’s words, so I squeeze her hand and she shrugs next to me. “What?” she whispers. “They started it.”

I turn back to the woman as she pulls the knife from her shoulder and holds it out in front of her. “Witches!” Her lips lift. “It’s been a while since I’ve tasted a witch.” She goes to move toward us, but before she can, one of the women who is still burning brightly stops her by placing a hand on her shoulder.