Heartless (Immortal Enemies 1)

“Let’s approach this from a different angle.” Jareth mulled before nodding. “A spiritual heart is a battery for your abilities the way a natural heart is a battery for your body. It’s the core of you. Your most primal state. Discover what drives you, and you’ll access your power.”

She paced as she thought back to the day she’d first created vines. A sunny morning in her backyard, feeling as if someone spied on her. She’d panicked and run. No, that wasn’t entirely true. Before that, she’d urged Pearl Jean and Sugars to go inside. For their safety.

Was the answer so simple? Did her primal state revolve around the protection of her loved ones?

Except, during her first hours in Astaria, she’d created vines for herself, not her loved ones.

So, her primal driving force was self-protection?

Cookie blinked into focus, ready to find out. But as she continued to march back and forth, she realized both the king and the prince tracked her every move. Hello, distraction. Only one man’s hot gaze branded her skin, reminding her body of the pleasure and connection awaiting her...

“Kaysar,” she said with a pang of longing. He’d promised they could do whatever she desired today. Right now, she desired closeness with him, so, lesson over. She and Jareth could reconvene tomorrow and pick up where they’d left off. Getting Kaysar into bed had just become priority one.

Finally, he spoke. Leaning forward in the cathedra, intent on her, he inquired, “Yes, sweetling?” Hunger sharpened his timbre. “Is there something you need from me?”

She opened her mouth to invite him to Orgasm Hour when Amber butted in.

“Majesty,” the oracle burst out. “It’s King Hador.”

He flittered to the girl, materializing in a crouch, his hands already on her shoulders, shaking her. “Tell me.”

Cookie rushed over, worried. And annoyed. He was supposed to shake her shoulders. “What is it? What’s going on?”

Amber looked past the king, past the room, a crinkle of concentration between her eyes. After a moment, she paled and blinked into focus. “Hador has invaded the Dusklands.”

“He dares,” Kaysar hissed as he straightened. The abrupt, jolting motion bumped his body into Cookie’s, and she stumbled a step, mouth agape. “He must pay, and I must go.”

He didn’t spare her another glance before he vanished.

Her cheeks heated as Amber winced at her, all he’ll remember you eventually, probably. “I’m sorry,” the oracle said, “but he won’t be returning for a few days.”

“Trust my father to make everything worse,” Jareth said.

So Kaysar had beat feet for battle, serving his vengeance—the one he considered his true wife. Leaving his mistress behind without bothering to give her a real goodbye. Expecting her to understand. Her, the one he’d studied with such fierce lust only seconds before. Forgotten. A promise broken.

Old wounds cracked open, the scabs oozing hurt. He just left me here. Was this what life would be like with him from now on?

The evil seductress had failed her first day on the job, just like student Cookie.

* * *

AS THE DAYS PASSED, one bleeding into another, Cookie developed a routine. Wake, dress in the gown of her choosing, train with Jareth, and tour the castle, learning its layout and defenses. She ate and slept alone. Kaysar had yet to return. Not even a quick flitter home to check on her well-being and make sure Micah hadn’t attacked. He hadn’t, but come on!

Every morning she woke and wondered, Is today the day I get to see Kaysar? Hope always ballooned, despite the inevitable pop when night arrived without word. Her nerves couldn’t take much more. Her childhood nightmare had overtaken her adult life, and it sucked.

Today’s trials, tomorrow’s strengths. Right?

She laughed without humor. How about this: Always have an escape plan.

With Jareth’s help and a few handy dreams, she’d learned to create different kinds of vines, both poisonous and medicinal. She could even produce certain fruit and nut trees. If ever she had to go on the run, she could feed and shelter herself. She wouldn’t need anyone’s artificial aid.

She fisted her hands. Due to his absence, Kaysar didn’t know her doormaking ability had begun to recharge. She felt it, deep inside. In a matter of weeks, she suspected she’d have enough juice to collect Pearl Jean and Sugars.

Homesickness nearly doubled her over as she imagined rubbing her face in the little house panther’s fur and cracking Pearl Jean’s ribs when she hugged her too hard.

Cookie wiped her eyes and turned her thoughts to the array of garments in her closest. A much safer topic, and a promise Kaysar had actually kept. Her racks overflowed with different personalities. She thought she understood the purpose of every garment—seduce, command, rebuke, punish, tease, submit—but one. A clinging ivory frock with both soft and sharp edges. A severe but hauntingly lovely...wedding gown? Maybe, possibly?

Except, he already had a wife, didn’t he?