A Queen of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 4)

“Yes!” I recognized Cook’s voice on that one. I was sure he was shaking his fist in appreciation, as well. Why he was way up here and not in the kitchens preparing for dinner was anyone’s guess. Mediocre bastard.

At the next set of stairs, Finley paused for a moment, and I inched a little closer in case she was losing her nerve. But then she started moving in a measured pace again, not using the handrail for guidance like all the ladies before her had done. I wasn’t sure it was wise, but I didn’t want to undermine her by telling her so. I had to trust she wouldn’t take a tumble, and if she did, that she’d end it in a fabulous swan dive or something.

More bows and “miladys” came as the staff pushed to the sides of the stairs to let her down the middle, another first. When we reached the second-floor landing, she paused again, a little intake of breath giving her away.

I chanced a look.

She wasn’t noticing the staff gathered all around, some on the landing and some down below, gazing at her with stars in their eyes. She didn’t so much as glance at the collection of visiting dragons on the first floor, Micah a step in front and Vemar a little to the side, grins sliding up their faces. Nor did she notice Weston and a few of the wolves who’d gathered around him. The alpha had a stoic expression, but through our pack bond, I could feel the call of the hunt thrumming through him—and us. The need to rise up and defend. To protect. To battle and to win. The wolves around him grinned in excitement.

The faeries, one and all, stood on the second-floor landing, watching her closely. Her sister, at her side, pushed forward a little with a small smile.

But Finley noticed none of them. Her focus was entirely on Nyfain. He waited at the bottom of the stairs, right in the middle, staring up at her with such supreme devotion in his expression that another tear leaked from my eye.

He was as much of a sight as Finley. He wore a perfectly fitted black suit with a slight shine, like satin, molding to his powerfully built body. He wore a black waistcoat embroidered with gold under the jacket, along with a bow tie with the same design. His dark brown hair was stylishly tousled, absent of the crown long ago stolen by the demon king, giving a slight wildness to his overall appearance. His golden eyes sparkled with menace and power, and fire licked at his shoulders and up his arms despite the suit. His striking face, cut through with scars, tipped his image from alpha dragon into a nightmare, ruthless and vicious. If Finley was concerned she’d appear too hard for polite company, she needn’t have worried. Compared to him, she was every bit as soft and demure as her old village had tried to make her.

Together they looked like they would burn the world down and laugh in the ashes.

The prince didn’t start up toward her or put out a hand to hurry her along like his father would’ve. He just waited patiently for his mate, allowing her to keep the spotlight.

I hurried a little bit because I was still mediocre and didn’t really care that I was supposed to stay behind her. I forced my way to the side of the stairs and then hurried down so I could watch her final descent.

I was glad I did. Finley’s expression melted into the same expression as Nyfain’s, rife with longing and devotion. All of the tension drained out of her bearing as she continued down the stairs, her eyes on only him.

Soft murmurs filled the crowd, but nothing pulled the couple’s focus away from each other. When Finley was close, the prince climbed up a step, meeting her at last.

The prince leaned toward her, his lips nearing hers. Her mouth fell open slightly, ready for a kiss; their eyes were hooded as they breathed the same air, not even an inch apart.

He hesitated, though, his hands coming up. The fingers of his right hand brushed against the side of her jaw and the fingers of the other skimmed down the side of her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed as he bent forward, angling to place a kiss on the edge of her lips and then her jaw before skimming his lips down the side of her neck, following his fingertips. When he got to her mark, he gave it a lingering kiss, and she shivered beneath his touch.

He was greeting her not as a royal or a member of the court, but as a mate greeted his other half after an absence. Their absence had been less than a day, but clearly they’d both felt it. Obviously this was what it meant to be true mates and desperately in love.