Today was yet another day her curse might lift—and Iris couldn’t let it.
She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as waves of Priam’s love reached out from his wing of her castle. His affection buffeted like a breeze, twining around her limbs—and tearing into her beast-curse, the curse that
“Scarlet!”
I wince.
“Yes, ma’am?” I turn and bow to our loud neighbor.
“Are you going to drag your grandfather home?”
I bristle at her tone. He may drink too much, but only to forget his memories of the war. Everyone understands… except Lenora Cutter. She never has grace for anyone, not even
Every predator, no matter how strong, can meet its end.
I stared into the ornate, gilded mirror. People whispered I was obsessed with my reflection, that perhaps the mirror held magic properties that caused my vanity to need constant satisfying. What a ridiculous notion.
But the truth was stranger than
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The domed turrets of the Little Palace blazed a fierce rose-red. The color of magic. The color of a curse.
Mariya had to get there.
But a line of Rusakian soldiers blocked her road, their blood-red shields reminding her of all the lives lost during their occupation of her city.
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Six months into the sleep-zombie catastrophe, the survivors knew one thing: they were grateful for the winged, magic sloths.
One such survivor, Leesia, leaped over a crumbling stone wall marking an old boundary between fields. Gasping for breath, she dropped to her knees. Her brother-in-law Rayth joined her a moment later.
The crunchy bitterness of the riptalion leaf takes a slight edge off my craving. Grasping my swollen stomach, shoulders hunched, I glance back toward the castle, pushing strands of golden hair out of my face. Here in our private garden, my husband and I grow the dark green, large-leafed lettuce
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Jack tore into the roasted chicken thigh, the heat of his anger suffusing with the warm tingling of his mother’s herb blend. The flavors of rosemary and thyme soothed him, their homey familiarity pushing against the sting of resentment.
He crunched down on a bone and spat it onto the ground.
Mia fluttered through the tower window, her fairy wings leaving a trail of sparkling lights as she circled the room. A spinning wheel stood in the center, surrounded by dirt and straw. Shaking her head, she snapped her fingers. In a flash of light, she became the size of a human.
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The garden party was the event of the year as Rainbow City’s elite celebrated the christening of Henry and Cinderella Charming’s newborn daughter. Princess Ashlyn slept peacefully in a gilded bassinet as guests dined on delicacies and spoke of meaningless things.
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“And with one mighty swing of his ax, the woodsman split the wolf in two, and Red Riding Hood and her grandmother came tumbling out!”
I stood and began clearing away the dishes, warmed by the familiar tale. Happy endings were always my favorite. “The last time you told me that one,
The beam from my uncle’s flashlight slid like a ghostly finger over the towering piles of antiques, and I shivered. Evidently, the small museum he’d worked at for years didn’t heat their storage room. A collection of Victorian dolls stared balefully at me, so I snatched up an old, canvas tarp
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I trudged down the aisle, eyes on the ground. I could not face the countrymen who stood on either side of me, judging. Instead, I counted their shoes. Twenty-nine people to witness my fate.
I slowed when my father’s calfskin-covered feet came into view. Beside him, the monstrous boots of my betrothed rested in the snow.
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