How did she not know the Council would oversee his sentencing? She is the Queen! Why does it seem these older men shift the governance rules each time she gains a foothold in the province?
And she is not done with Sigvid.
Samson takes a hesitant step backward as she fumes. “I believe many thought your wrangling of him noble, but now a firmer, more masculine hand needs to intervene. To ensure he pays the price for his barbarism.”
Why do these men seek to govern me like a child?Avina paces across the marble floor.
“It is understandable for you to feel overwhelmed when dealing with a man like him. You are emotional, like all women.”
That did it.
Avina screeches in anger as her Sacred Stone power ripples across her skin. Her cloak and nightgown flutter to the ground as she shreds them from her now naked, albeit invisible body. Avina bolts up the long stretch of stairs to the Queen’s Chambers in the north tower.
Once safe, she slams shut and bolts the thick mahogany door of her bedroom.
Damn her strange ability. However, she had no other way of leaving that would not involve him making advances on her.
Long ago, the Sacred Stones of Treland’s three provinces were the center of grand ceremonies grantingseidr–unique, unforeseen abilities–from the gods to citizens. Timber wasn’t the only region to lose its Sacred Stone. The Ridge, her homeland, also lost its stone.
Of all the provinces, Salt still retains its stone. Prince Sigvid Thordsson’s berserker ability is a testament to their stone’s might.
For the other two provinces, special abilities are granted seemingly overnight to chosen children of thirteen winters, like Avina’s invisibility–a power she loathed. Those of the Ridge typically received Sacred Stoneseidrrelated to intellect, wisdom, and artistic endeavors.
Not Avina.
Despite having lived her life haunting the halls of the Sapphire Palace as a shadow, the gods still granted her a means to conceal herself from the world.
Invisible from the rest of the world, she hears a faint “meow.” Glancing down, she smiles wide as a tiny midnight black kitten struggles to rub against her invisible ankles.
For years, she drifted into a sea of loneliness with only her heart to remind herself that no one loved her. That is until Nellie entered her life. Her tiny rescued kitten with a feisty yet precious personality has filled Avina’s world with rare happiness.
“Nellie.” Sne scoops the kitten into her now visible arms. “How are you, sweet bee?” She nuzzles her nose against Nellie’s soft fur before setting the kitten into a basket beside her bed. As she digs for another nightgown, Nellie cries and squeaks.
“Hmm? Mmmhhh. Really?” She feigns understanding to her pitiful cries while she tugs on a new nightdress.
Once she lights the pillar candle beside her four-poster bed, Avina glances to see Nellie spin in a circle before collapsing with her wide green eyes closed tight.
She has never bore a child, but more than anything, she wanted a family—like the ones she encounters throughout the country, who love and support one another without reservations. Like the maternal connection she developed with the dowager Queen of Salt or cousin Bertie.
For now, Nellie is her world.
The thick mattress meets Avina’s back forcefully. She huffs, glaring up into the thick plum-colored canopy, her thoughts begrudgingly on Prince Sigvid. Something sinful and wrong stirs within her core when she thinks of his warrior build and endless fury.
His inability to answer her questions before the torture began had her blood boiling. Why had he chosen to cause so much pain and misery all for gold?
Her chest heaves as she ruminates on her hostility toward him. The hotter he left her under the collar, the more she ached to feel him inside her. Not just take her to bed softly but use her body in ways that one could only describe as vile and degrading.
Against her better judgment, she slips her hand between her legs to find her hatred betrayed by her wetness. Roughly, she circles the bundle of nerves with all the anger Sigvid’s taunting brewed. Her breathing catches in her chest as she presses harder until her nails dig into her sensitive lips. Despite the light pain, a moan slips out.
Her mind conjures a fantasy of him slamming her against the grimy wall in his cell. His throbbing cock shoves deep inside her while their heaving chests press against one another. The imaginary pain and pleasure he wreaks from her mind are exhilarating.
“Good girl.”His words still leave her hot and wanting to please him.
What would happen if she released him from the dungeon? The thought of those strong arms fulfilling his threats of violence has her increase the speed of her fingers, her hips thrusting against her hand as if it were Sigvid’s, nearly twice her size.
He is her beginning and will likely be her end.
“Where have you been my whole life?”His words trickle down to her toes.
