Soul of Ice (Chronicles of Dawn)

Chapter Twenty

Surina hadn’t slept that well in ages, only stirring awake when a strange sensation sent goosebumps up her spine. Immediately, she recognized it as the aura of that creepy phantom voice. She was beginning to wonder if it enjoyed hanging around while she slept, considering those were the times she felt it the most—when it would wake her, but nothing was in her room. It could be worse, she supposed, to wake up to something actually looming over her, and not just the weight of it.

Glancing around, the only movement in the room was that of the fire’s writhing shadows. As she peered through the windows leading to the balcony, the sun was starting its descent from the sky, which meant they didn’t have much longer until Moira would be ready to meet with them. But where was Ezra?

Ignoring the chilling sensation, she inspected the cut on her palm, and it looked as if it had a full day of healing, though it had only been a few hours. It really was like magic.

Her cheeks warmed as she recalled his saliva’s other properties, and try as she might, Surina couldn’t blame it solely on the heat that washed her blood after he tasted her. That want for him was already there, aching to free itself—the saliva had only unlocked the door.

Tearing the blankets aside to get air to her rising temperature, she adjusted the blouse, covering all of the important bits as she got up to search for Ezra. Making it as far as the end of the bed, that voice dragged across her mind.

You did well today, my moonflower , it spoke.

That was the first time it ever casually brought up conversation in her head. She wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for its compliment, or worried she’d gotten its approval.

Still, you have much to learn of your power. I can teach you .

She didn’t want a teacher, especially not whatever the fuck this thing was. Its presence though… it was stronger than she’d ever felt—like it was standing there in the room with her. She conjured a pick of ice from the water in the air.

“Who are you? What do you want from me?” she called fiercely, hoping to sound at least a little bit intimidating. She didn’t get a response in the form of empty whispers, but a brush down her spine had her whirling to face—

Nothing.

“It’s in your head, Surina. It isn’t real.” She repeated it over and over, until the door to the bedchamber burst open.

Surina yelped, sending that spike of ice towards the intruder. It shattered just shy of Ezra’s face. She covered her mouth as it went wide with horror—she could have killed him.

“Ezra… I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t even flinch when the ice erupted though. “Are you okay?” he asked, panic-stricken.

“ Me ? I almost took your head off! Why would you charge in here like that?” Apart from the fact that this was his room?

By then, her lips were quivering, the rush of fear making her nauseous. Even the arm with the sun scar felt hotter than usual.

“I thought I heard you talking to someone.” Ezra shoved the door all the way open, stepping into the room completely. Worry clouded his features as he drew closer, bringing a hand to her shoulder and sliding it up her neck to cradle the back of her head. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I do not,” she countered, far too defensively. No one knew of the voices in her head, and they never would. Any chance at leaving the palace would be gone if her brother thought she were going mad hearing voices—not one, but two . “I… was just having a nightmare. Took me a while to snap out of it, I guess.”

He looked her over, like he didn’t believe what she was saying, then stole a quick glance at the frozen chunks by the door. “Must have been some nightmare.”

She forced a grin. “Just the usual.”

A scowl formed on his face. Ezra knew what nightmares she spoke of. “Well, you’re awake now.” He brought his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before curling her in for a hug.

Damn if that didn’t make everything just fade away. Was she actually awake? Because this feeling was something she thought could only exist in a dream.

Then she remembered all that separated her naked body from him was a thin piece of silk, and the realization of what they’d done hours ago consumed her. The boiling wash in her blood rose to claim her flesh with a deep red.

Flustered, she stammered her words as she broke from the embrace. “Um, do you know when my clothes will be ready?” Surina slid beneath the covers, using them as a shield.

He smiled, and the Mother could send her to the Eyre’s depths if she was wrong about Ezra being the most stunning being in existence. Everything about him screamed perfection.

Disregarding the butterflies in her stomach, she glowered from behind her blanket-shield. “What’s so funny?”

“You.” He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned into the bedpost.

Her brows knit together. “Did I snore in my sleep or something?”

That question only seemed to amuse him all the more. “I mean how you turn such a beautiful shade of pink when I simply look upon you, yet offer me your blood without so much as a nod.”

“It was only a few drops,” she mumbled, trying to convince him that sharing her blood wasn’t such a big deal—it obviously was to him though. And it was a good thing she was sitting down, because with the look he pinned her with, her legs would have given out.

“Sharing blood is deeper than anything of the flesh.” He said it so earnestly, like she’d given him something no one had before.

How could that be true, though, when he used feeders—sometimes different people every week? Then again, she remembered that some fae didn’t drink directly from a feeder, but rather bled them instead. Surina had offered it straight from her body, so was that where the difference lay? Seemed a little particular, in her opinion.

Her breath caught as he shoved from the bedpost. A rush of longing coursed through her veins with every step he took in her direction, until he was at her side. He held a hand out. To inspect her palm, she surmised.

Obliging him, she slipped the back of her hand into his. Ezra didn’t immediately look at the cut but held her stare for more than a few painstakingly endless seconds before his lashes finally dipped down.

The brush of his thumb along the sealed gash made her shiver. “It’ll probably be gone in a few days.”

“Only a few days? That’s amazing,” she whispered, bringing it back into her lap to run her own fingers along it. “Thank you, for doing this.”

Ezra swept the hair from her shoulder, twining his fingers into the strands behind her ear. “You’re thanking me for taking your blood?” Teal irises danced across her face, like they couldn’t decide where they wanted to land—her lips or her eyes.

“I’m thanking you for indulging my curiosity.” Surina tried to match the dry humor of his tone, but he was so much better at this than her, and she was finding it more and more difficult to meet his gaze after what these fingers in her hair had just done to her.

“Is that all it was?” A droll grin tipped the corner of his mouth up. “Well, are there any other curiosities I can assist with?”

The clash of her heart against her chest was thunderous, and the shift of his hand in her hair sent a web of tingles along her scalp, forcing her lips to part to take in some much-needed air— his air. Frosted mint and cool pine. There was something else that trailed along his scent though. Like citrus or—

A cough from the doorway made her jerk back, ripping the covers up to her shoulders.

Ezra’s irritation flared with a low growl. “Yes?” the king voiced coolly, clearly reluctant to remove himself from her hair, as he angled his shoulder out of the way, enough for her to see the male standing in the doorway.

Not a male, though, but a man—a human. At least that was her best guess, considering his ears were completely rounded, with no point at the ends to indicate he had any fae blood.

“Your Majesty,” he began, and where most had an uneasiness when approaching Ezra, this man stood tall—confident even. “Dinner is set, and I have the princess’s clothes.” He lifted a gloved hand, which carried a neatly folded pile of Surina’s clothes.

What did he think of a Fairlight being in the bed of the Nightwood king? If anyone had their suspicions about her and Ezra before, this certainly cleared it up for them. Not that it bothered her that others would know, but what did bother her was when the man glanced at her. With dark, chocolate hair and amber eyes, his features pinched together as he looked her up and down, assessing her.

“Leave it on the chair over there.” Ezra jerked his chin towards the corner of the room.

Slowly tearing his eyes away, the man nodded, stepping over the mess of ice in the process. She was certain she’d never seen the man before, which meant he was probably new to the palace. Yet, the way he walked through the king’s room reminded her of the cool and collected poise only older staff and servants had, as they’d been here for years—this man couldn’t have been any older than Surina though.

Wintry fingers seized her chin, pulling her eyes away from the man. “Are you hungry?” Ezra inquired softly, luring her back into his gaze.

Surina nodded. She really was, having barely eaten breakfast and slept through lunch, her stomach was in dire need of food.

“Will that be all?” the man asked, the low drag of his voice snagging her attention again—even the way he spoke was sure and strong.

“Yes,” Ezra replied without even a glance in his direction.

Surina was watching, though—and she saw the flicker of displeasure that crossed the man’s honey-tan face. It was brief, but she saw it. He knew she saw it, too, because when he caught her staring, his features immediately eased. Instead of looking apologetic, though, his mouth cracked into a grin. And then he swept into the drawing room, disappearing into the east wing.

That was weird , she thought to herself.

Her stomach growled. Loudly.

“You should eat,” Ezra said through a smile. “Before your food gets cold.”

She had to agree, and right now, food was more important than getting dressed, so she dragged the blanket along with her, curling it around her body like a massive cloak.

When she made it to the dining table, her mouth salivated at the sight of a creamy mushroom chicken dish.

Leaning back into his chair, Ezra sat patiently as she attempted to cut into her chicken and keep the covers on her shoulders at the same time. “I know it’s not quite the way we wanted to spend tonight, but we’ll leave to speak to Moira after you eat. Hopefully, she’ll have some answers.”

That gave her an incentive to rush through her food. Not that she wasn’t already going to. She was starved.

Swallowing her first massive bite, her eyes stung as it went down. “Have you heard anything from Moira?”

Ezra slid a crystal goblet of water in front of her. “No. She’s probably just being cautious though.”

“What about Cyril? Does he know?”

He remained surprisingly expressionless at the mention of her brother. “He doesn’t, but I think he should. If only to help keep it under wraps. It’s up to you, though.”

Keep it under wraps? As if she’d done something terrible and evil. “I don’t mind. Does it really need to be that secretive, though? I mean, I don’t see what anyone could do with information like—”

“Can we talk about something else? At least until we meet with Moira.” He angled his ears towards the doors, like he was ensuring no one was lingering in the halls outside.

She didn’t really want to talk about anything else, considering she’d been tearing at the seams just to see the little creature again, but whatever.

“Anything ?” she murmured with a raise of her brow.

The corner of his mouth bent up into a half-smile. “Anything,” Ezra assured her.

Placing her fork down, she took a sip of water before asking, “Can you tell me about her?”

And then his smile was gone.

“What do you want to know?” A tick in his jaw shifted into multiple pulses at his temple.

Considering she wasn’t expecting this kind of reaction, she wasn’t so sure anymore. “I don’t know. How did you meet her? What was she like?”

With white knuckles, Ezra gripped onto the wooden arms of the chair. “Cyril said something this morning, didn’t he?”

There had to be more to the story, if this was the way he was reacting to simple questions. “I just want to know more about you.”

“No, I know Cyril. He’ll never let me move on from this.” Ezra stood abruptly, almost knocking the chair backwards.

“Move on from what? Ezra,” she called to him, but he was already passing under the archway leading from the dining area into the drawing room.

Shit .

Shoving the blanket from her shoulders, Surina hopped out of the chair to try and catch up to him. Where the hell was he even going? To confront Cyril?

“ Ezra ,” she repeated a bit more fretfully than the last. Before he could lay a hand on the door, Surina summoned a frozen glaze of ice over it, just like he had last night, until it sealed the two doors together from floor to ceiling.

She smiled as her pride shined a little, but that smile shattered when he turned to her, his face a masterpiece of beautiful rage.

“You really think that will stop me?” Ezra said dryly, hands curled into fists at his side.

“You’re still here, aren’t you?”

His lips twitched, but he fought the grin and won. A shuddering exhale left him with a deep heave of his chest, and he struggled to keep her gaze.

“Whatever it is, Ezra, it was years ago. You shouldn’t have to carry something for that long.” This was before he was king, which meant Cyril wouldn’t have even been alive at the time, so how could he possibly pass judgment on Ezra? It wasn’t fair.

“It was years ago, yes, but it changed everything.” Ezra raked his fingers through his hair. “You already know of my family’s plans to assassinate her, and even after I became king, I was still so terrified of losing her. I removed anyone I deemed a threat, but it never felt like enough. I didn’t think she would ever truly be safe, not until she was made my consort. I restricted her to the keep until her Awakening. Until she could marry me.”

All Surina had ever known was the palace, so she could definitely relate to being locked behind its walls. It was a strange torture that sometimes felt like a blessing and a curse, depending on the day.

“I made sure she was only ever alone with her lady’s maids or Casimir. I didn’t trust anyone else.”

Her heart sank with the mere mention of his name. “My father?”

With a cautious nod, his eyes swept over her, no longer than a few seconds before they looked anywhere but the spot she occupied. “We were friends, long ago. All three of us were, actually.”

They were friends ? That was a difficult thing to imagine—a young Ezra, friends with her father, who would have been king for at least a decade by then.

“Casimir had been spending a lot of time with her, and I knew something had changed between the two of them. Between all of us, really. When I finally confronted them, that’s when I realized they were fated.”

Now, Ezra looked at her. “They were mates.”

“Mates?” Her face pinched together as she tossed around what he was saying. That couldn’t be possible, because she knew her father’s mate was—

No .

Ezra’s stare crumpled, and his shoulder slackened, because she hadn’t just thought that last part, but had said it aloud.

“Surina,” he murmured so gently, it made the hairs on her neck stand up.

“Tell me you don’t mean you and my—” Ice filled her veins, and she stumbled on the leg of an end table as she numbly took a step backwards.

He reached an arm out to help stabilize her, but she averted his touch.

“You kissed me, though. You…” He’d done a lot more than just kiss her. A lot more than just touch her. She’d offered her body to him. Her blood —her heart.

Divines, she was going to be sick. Even more so when her eyes caught sight of the loose golden waves at her chest, and Galen’s sweet words from last night about how she looked just like her mother—those words churned in her stomach now, threatening to expel all she’d eaten.

Had it been her mother’s hair Ezra imagined when he ran his fingers through Surina’s? Her smile he seemed so infatuated with? And her lips he’d claimed as his own…

“Is it because I look like her?” Surina practically mouthed the words, but he heard her nonetheless.

Ezra shook his head fiercely, and while his hands twitched at his sides, he made no other attempts to reach for her. “ No , Surina. What I feel for you has nothing to do with her.”

“How can it not?” she snapped, a prickling sting threatening her eyes. “You wanted her, didn’t you? You killed for her. And she chose another. She chose my father.”

“I’m well aware of the past,” Ezra returned, a rising bitterness in his voice.

“So what does that make me then? Your next best option? Some revenge game?” Both ? How could Cyril keep this from her? She had every right to know. No , she couldn’t blame this one on her brother. Dahlia was right, this was something she deserved to hear from Ezra, and he’d lied to her.

“I won’t even dignify that with a reply,” he muttered curtly.

“Of course not, because then you’d actually have to tell the truth.” Surina spun around to make her way back into his bedroom, feeling like a fucking idiot in his gods-damn shirt. A heated shame like no other washed her flesh.

“Where are you going?” he called from behind her.

“I’m leaving, what does it fucking look like?” she shrieked, trudging into his room to shove her legs into her breeches. He followed behind her, so she decided against replacing her blouse in front of him, and just tossed the leather bodice over top of the borrowed one. When she spun around to look for her boots, though, they were already in his hands, and he blocked the doorway to his room.

Her nostrils flared as she took in the male before her, like she was only now seeing him for the first time. “Give me my boots.”

“You’re not going to the apothecary on your own.”

“I’m sure as hell not going with you .” She held her hands out in silent demand. He only lifted his chin. “Give them to me,” she repeated, grinding the words out between her teeth.

“Not until you talk to me.”

“I think enough has been said.”

“No, it hasn’t.” The hardened temperament from earlier eased into a despair she’d never seen on the king before. Great, so he had the decency to at least pretend to regret all he’d done. “Not if you think that this —” he gestured between the two of them, “—is because of your relation to Sienna.”

“ Don’t! ” She choked down a sob that lodged in her throat. “Do not say her name.” A tear slipped free. Then another. She swiped them from her cheeks before they could make it far. “I’ll go without them then.”

Cold fingers laced her arm when she tried to pass by him. “ Please , Surina,” he pleaded so softly, but the hold around her arm wasn’t pleading, nor was it soft. It was demanding.

An invisible static flitted across her skin, and then those phantom nails returned to scrape against her back, protesting the king’s hold. Apparently, it didn’t seem to care too much for Ezra’s lack of boundaries. Guess they had one thing in common.

“Let. Go.” Her words were a curt warning, and a breeze curled at her feet, rising to stir the electric pressure in the air.

Ezra didn’t let go. “I wanted to tell you; I just needed more time.”

“For what ? To take more from me while I was ignorant and willing?” Multiple cracks along the panes of his windows sliced at her hearing as the pressure in the room grew. He loosened his hold of her arm without turning to survey the source of the sound, and though he didn’t let go entirely, he still appeared somewhat unsure of her—maybe even a little apprehensive.

He should be worried. After what she’d done earlier this morning, Surina was anxious to see just how far her power could go.

Ezra lifted the boots between them.

She grabbed for them, only to learn that he was using them to lure her closer, right under his icy words.

“I didn’t want you to think you were being compared to her, because there is no comparison, Surina—there is no her . There is only you .”

How blind had she been to his true nature? He’d spelled it all out for her at dinner last night, and in court before that. He’d told her, verbatim, that he ruined everything he touched, but because he sprinkled it all in with words about her smiles and laughter— fuck , she fell for it. Fell for the same bullshit he offered at the ball two years ago. Only this time, she had fallen harder. Had given more . Because he tempted her with more, and like a moth to a flame, she flew right into his arms.

Even now her heart couldn’t bear the sight of him, desperate and broken. She put everything into leashing her magic, because underneath the vehement heat of betrayal that pulsed inside, she couldn’t imagine hurting him. And didn’t that just make his words from last night all the more real?

“You were right about one thing, Ezra.” More tears insisted on slipping past. She let them fall. “You’re poison.”

With that, any remaining frigidness in his posture crumbled, and he released his hold on her boots and her arm.

The room remained in unsettling silence as she shoved them on, frantic to remove herself from his chambers before the burning vengeance of her magic could break through her barriers.

Surina would find her way to the apothecary, eventually, but right now, she needed the one person who could make it all go away. She needed her friend, who had been there for every broken heart or wretched day.

This time was different, though, and she knew it.