Chapter
One
My heart is a fool. Everyone clings to the belief that those they love will instantly be able to recognize an imposter wearing their skin. The reality is, we accept someone at face value and fail to look beneath the surface to find the rot festering beneath.
I’ve never been a violent maiden. Not purposefully, anyway. However, the second Malice’s lips touch Hart’s mouth, a furious rage flashes in my veins. If I could reach through this mirrored prison and throttle the female who dares to touch my knights, I would do it in a heartbeat. I don’t know what Malice’s intent is, but if she harms one hair on the knights’ or my sister’s heads, I’ll make sure she regrets her life choices.
My eyes cling to their retreating backs as they talk animatedly about how awesome I am for successfully swapping the trident for the sword. She is practically glowing under their heavy praise. Praise meant for me. My jaw aches as I grind my teeth and mentally flick through plans before discarding them.
Someone groans, a low painful sound. I spin, my eyes widening on Eron lying on the ground. I rush over and fall to my knees. His chest moves up and down in a slow but steady rhythm. My mirror man lives.
I cup his cool cheek, marveling at how different he looks in real life compared to the form we see in the mirror. “Eron?” I whisper. I don’t know how vulnerable we are out here, so I keep my voice low to avoid attracting more crazy identity-thieving females. My fingers push his thick hair back from his damp forehead. Crimson creeps down my arm, kissing my fingers before streaking his pale face.
He doesn’t respond. I tip my head back and stare at the moody sky, heavy with the promise of rain, mirroring the sting of tears gathering beneath my lashes. I shake my head and allow one hiccup to compress my chest before sucking down a breath. No, I can’t fall apart now. It won’t help me solve this situation. I need help.
I glance around, trying to find any shadows in the swirling mist that might help with an unconscious king. My lips tremble as I realize that most kings end up this way in my presence. This time, however, it wasn’t my fault.
The first tear falls, splashing onto Eron’s cheek before sliding down his temple. It seems my emotions have other plans. I breathe out a deep, shuddering breath and try to gather myself. A tempo. That’s how long I’m allowed to fall apart, because I refuse to conceive of a future without them. Eron’s face turns slightly toward mine, as if he’s trying to catch my tears, but his eyes remain closed, much like my path back to my world.
I need help, and if another evil bitch comes at us, I vow to end her. Somehow.
“Help!” I shout, my voice hoarse with emotion. “We need help. He’s hurt.”
The mist swirls like it’s carrying the weight of my plea across the lake. A tempo passes, then another, before the water beneath us shudders, the ripples lapping against my knees. I lift my head toward the vibrations and rise to my feet. I hope to the Idols amenacing stare is enough to make whatever is hunting us in the fog take pause.
My heart pounds violently against my ribcage, each thud echoing the rising tide of fear that morphs into a flicker of hope. My gaze locks onto Erik as he appears, striding out of the fog with his sword raised, ready for battle. Three guards flank him on either side, forming a menacing wall of muscle and steel. “Thank goodness you’re here,” I utter, my voice trembling with a mixture of relief and desperation. “Malice ambushed us.”
His lip curls into a sneer, a flash of derision that cuts deep. My breath catches in my throat as his eyes shift to Eron, and I watch panic ignite in his expression before it calcifies into something cold and hard. “What did you do?” he snaps, his voice sharp as a blade.
I raise my hands in surrender. “Nothing! I told you, it was Malice.”
He shakes his head, disbelief etched across his features. “No one has seen her in ages. She’s believed to be deceased.”
Frustration surges through me, and I motion to the wound on my shoulder and the blood soaking my dress, the hot and sticky warmth painting my skin. “And this?”
The guards circle closer, their eyes flaring with suspicion. “Probably inflicted by the king in self-defense,” one of them grunts disdainfully.
I recoil at the insinuation, a spurt of anger surging through my veins like fire. “I would never hurt Eron.”
Erik’s voice drips with disdain as he retorts, “He’s a fool for trusting your kind. I am sworn to protect him from all threats—even those he created himself.”
Before I can register what’s happening, two guards launch forward, their hands locking around my arms like iron shackles, forcing them behind my back and snapping heavy manacles ontomy wrists. Pain shoots through my injured shoulder, and I snarl, “Take your damn hands off me!”
Erik’s gaze flickers to Eron’s unconscious form, and a cruel order slips from his lips. “Retrieve the king and take him to the healer. Put the girl in the dungeon.” The weight of his command hangs in the air, palpable and suffocating, sealing my fate in a way I never expected.
“Should I send the healer to her once he’s done with the king?” one of the guards asks.
Erik’s gaze narrows on my shoulder. “No, she’ll live. A little pain will remind her she cannot attack our king without consequences. It will be healthy for her prospects of survival.”
I don’t like Erik. On a positive note, he expects me to survive. The guards scoop up Eron and march me over the water of the lake. I cast a glance over my shoulder at the mirror leading me back to those I love.Hold tight. I will be with you sooner rather than later.
“We aren’t going to talk about the fact that some evil me wannabe stole my sword and my knights and my sister?” I ask. “Because your security is pretty lax if you didn’t notice the evil one slinking around, waiting for her moment to best your king and escape this realm.”
I trip over absolutely nothing, proving once again how ridiculous the notion is that I beat their king. The guard on my left catches my arm and ensures I am conquering gravity before releasing me. I give him a grateful smile before continuing to make my case for their stupidity.
“Also, for what purpose would I then hang around at the scene of the crime? Surely I would have just escaped through the mirror after committing such a heinous act?”
“Boss, that actually makes sense,” the guard on my right agrees.
