It’s more likely the wind servants will douse any fire, fix any problem, before it can cause damage.
That reminds me—Bestian promised he’d sendwhispsto check on Ma.
“Have you seen Ma?” I ask Rogue. I get silence, which I take to be a no. “Did one of your wind friends see her?”
Thewhispblows in a circle around me. I’ll take that as a yes. “Was she all right? Did she need anything?” Two questions, but Rogue blows harder. A nearby blanket flies off the settee it was strewn over, and settles around my shoulders.
The little wind is trying to comfort me. “I’m okay,” I tell it. “I want to see her. Can you help me?”
Rogue goes silent. I’m about to accept that answer as a negative when it flurries around my legs and zooms down the hall, making curtains flare in its wake. I scurry after it.
It leads me to a long gallery hung with portraits. On the left side, the wall is broken up by a small alcove lit by glow orbs. The wind tugs me towards one.
“What is this?” There’s a bench hugging the walls of the alcove. As I stand there, Rogue brings one of the orbs out to hover in front of me. The thing looks like a witch’s gazing ball, with stormy gray tendrils of fog writhing over its smooth surface. I reach out to touch it, but a forcefield repels my hand, just like the one barring all exits. It has to be some kind of spell.
“I’m not sure what—” I begin, then the image on the ball’s surface changes. Ma’s cottage appears in the mist, the picture coming into focus. There’s Ma, digging in her garden, and Leelah is standing beside her.
“Any word from Rose?” Leelah’s voice comes through clearly but sounds as if she’s far away.
“Not yet. The king sent word that she was safe. Plus a formal notice that she is the king’s choice in the Queen Covenant. There will be an announcement soon.”
“That’s wonderful!” Leelah claps her hands. “Who would have thought your Rose would be chosen? Such a great honor.”
Ma glowers at her, then glances at the cottage gate. There’s a cluster of Alpha soldiers just beyond the wall. Are they guarding Ma? Or imprisoning her?
“Perhaps,” Ma says. “I’ll celebrate after I’ve spoken to Rose. The king didn’t mention whether he’ll allow her to visit, but knowing my Rose, she won’t take kindly to being told what to do.”
I open my mouth but Ma can’t see or hear me. It’s like watching a movie. Or security cam footage.
I turn away from the orb. “Okay. I’ve seen enough.” If I can’t escape soon, maybe I can figure out a way to send word to Ma. “Thank you,” I tell Rogue. “Will you show me the rest of the castle?”
Thewhispwhips around my neck so fast, it tickles. Despite myself, I giggle.
I follow Rogue down the gallery. When I pause to take in the pictures, I gasp. The elements in them are actually moving. Leaves on trees flutter in invisible breezes, lake surfaces ripple, and clouds float across painted skies. I hurry to check the portraits of actual people, kind of relieved to see how still they are. So it’s just the landscapes which move. Curiouser and curiouser.
A newer-looking painting dominates the far wall at the end, commanding my attention. I move closer to inspect it. A kind-eyed female gazes out from the canvas. She’s wearing a crown. So is her much larger, emerald-skinned partner. An Omega queen and her Alpha king. They’re standing outside in a bower of moonflowers. The tiny petals, the couple’s eyes, the suns above their heads—they’re not moving, but they all seem to glow. The whole thing is so realistic, I wouldn’t be surprised if the figures took a breath and stepped out from the canvas.
“I see you found my parents.” Bestian’s voice echoes down the gallery. Tingles rise on the back of my neck. I quiver, hungering for his warmth, his scent.
I suck in a breath through my mouth, denying myself so I can hold onto my senses for as long as possible.
But when I turn, the sight of him hits me. His body looms, enormous in the huge space. Back home, he’d be a giant, a superhero with teal skin and striking tattoos. Everything about him—his size, his voice, his presence—proclaims him as Alpha.
He’s irresistible. Damn him.
He comes closer, stepping out of the shadows and into the light. He’s wearing a cloak but the hood is down. I gaze at him greedily. A mask covers the top half of his face, molded to his cheekbones and going down one side of his jaw. What it reveals is absolutely gorgeous. The structure of his face takes my breath away.
The mask matches the deep teal of his skin. His markings are a shimmering emerald green—just like his eyes. He does have the sexiest eyes. His hair, brows, and lashes are the deep, glossy blue of the ocean.
“Good morning,” he greets me. My captor has good manners. Between that and his stunning looks, it takes me a moment to remember that I’m mad at him.
I summon my inner New Yorker, sharp accent and all. “It was a good morning, until I found out I couldn’t leave. I’m surprised you didn’t lock me in my room.”
He regards me calmly. “There was no need.”
“Because you barricaded the palace.”
“I could not be sure the magical border around my castle would hold you. So you’re confined inside. For now.”
