Grim Lovelies (Grim Lovelies 1)

“But you command the witches. If you’d ever bother to step out of your penthouse palace, you’d see how unfairly all your lesser creatures are treated. But you care only about maintaining your power.”

Abruptly, he stopped toying with the bracelet. “You’re right.”

It was the last thing she’d expected to hear, and her thoughts hung mid-breath; she sensed that there was a catch.

“As formidable a princess as you’d make, you would also be compassionate, and that is what this world needs. And in return, I’ll be whatever you want me to be. The prince from the fairy tales that Pretties tell each other. The prince from those playbills you have pasted to your bedroom walls. I know what you are: a dreamer. I can be a dreamer too.” He paused, eyes flashing. “I’m offering you anything you can imagine and more.”

He went to the turret window, limping on his right leg, and extended his hand to let the bracelet that had been Zola’s shackle fall. Then he came to her, hands open, a bold look in his eyes.

“Say yes. For you and for me. For the Pretties and the Haute.”

In that moment, he was once more the boy in the too-big scarf who had stood on her doorstep. Despite all the centuries he had lived, he didn’t look much older than her. And maybe that hopeful boy was still in there somewhere, someone not so different from her, caught up in a dangerous world of magic and trying to make right what he could. The arrogant mask he so often wore was slipping now, and beneath it she saw a glimpse of vulnerability. He truly needed her, she realized. He couldn’t save his kingdom without her. His eyes were brimming with something that was both soft and wary.

Prince Rennar wasn’t so cold after all.

Without warning, a teapot came flying from the direction of the stairs and crashed into the giant bell. She clamped her hands over her ears against the deafeningly loud tolls.

December emerged from the doorway with her golden teeth bared and her yellow braids whipping like serpents. She pulled a pouch from her vest and poured out a shimmery substance, but instead of swallowing it, she blew it into Rennar’s face. He coughed, waving it away, and scratched at the places on his arms where the shimmering dust clung to his skin.

“What is this?” he snarled.

“This is a bold and daring rescue, obviously,” December cried, and then turned and called to someone, “Now! Release it!”

Two Goblins were in the stairwell—?at December’s signal, they released something gray that tore out from the stairs, snarling.

Wolf, Anouk thought with a jolt, and then, a half a second later, Hunter Black!

A broken chain dangled from the wolf’s neck. Anouk felt as though everything was happening too quickly, like time had suddenly sped up. Four strong paws. A snapping jaw. Keen black animal eyes. Tension rippled in the air. The wolf growled low, its hungry gaze going from Anouk to Rennar and back, and she had an awful premonition.

Hunter Black was an animal now. And she was prey.

But then the wolf looked at her—?really looked at her.

Did a glimmer of him remain beneath that fur? It was impossible, she knew, and yet slowly the wolf’s gaze shifted away from Anouk and to the crown prince.

Its lips drew back in a silent snarl.

Still clawing at the mysterious powder on his neck and face, Rennar reacted a second too slowly. He reached for his own powder but the wolf’s haunches bunched and it leaped clear across the bell tower. It sank its teeth into Rennar’s arm. The prince didn’t cry out, didn’t flinch. If it weren’t for the paleness spreading up his neck, Anouk wouldn’t even have known he felt the pain. Rennar dug his fingers into the wolf’s neck and tried to wrench it off, but its teeth sank deeper. He couldn’t get to his powder. The wolf whipped its head around like it was thrashing a rabbit in its jaws. Any other day, Rennar might easily have overpowered the wolf, but he wasn’t used to the weight of his stone leg. He tripped and fell back against the wall.

Anouk felt the urge to run to the wolf, to help. They were a family and that’s what family did. Hunter Black had never been able to fully embrace that fact while human—?he was always the solitary assassin, the lone wolf—?but in the past few days, she’d seen him change.

December grabbed Anouk’s hand. “The wolf won’t keep him down for long. Hurry. Out the window.”

“The window?” It was a thirty-foot fall. “No! I can’t leave him and Luc—?the mouse.”

Footsteps sounded on the spiral stairs. The two other Goblins drew knives, preparing to hold off the lesser counts and duchesses. The wolf suddenly let out a sharp yip of pain. Rennar had slammed it against the wall. Blood trickled from its left eye. With his free hand, Rennar tore open his vial of powder and swallowed it dry.

“Versik, versik sang . . .”

Anouk stared in horror as blood appeared at the corners of the wolf’s mouth like thick crimson drool. Rennar continued to whisper in a controlled voice, pinning the wolf against the wall with all his weight. Life drained out of it in messy wine-colored streaks that stained its beautiful thick fur. The wolf whimpered. Its paws scrambled weakly, uselessly. It gave one final whine.

Anouk couldn’t breathe. No!

There had to be a trick she could cast . . .

“Leave it!” December dragged her away toward the open window. “It’s too late. The wolf is gone.”

“No!” Anouk dug in her heels. “We can’t!”