Page 6 of The Fox Heir

The Dead Queen stills, then nods, just once.

My vision becomes a tunnel. I knew it. All along, my father was the one who killed her. The one who ruined my life. Who destroyed my heart and soul. It feels so obvious. I know now what I must do. Why I’ve survived this miserable life and sacrificed so much. This is my destiny.

“I’m going to kill him.”

I will murder the Fox King. And when I’m done, I’ll figure out how to kill the Dead Queen, too. Once and for all.

The Dead Queen’s voice sounds hollow in my ears. “Perhaps. But you can’t go back to Llwyn yet.”

My head snaps up. “You can’t stop me.”

“I won’t need to.” The Dead Queen merely lifts one hand toward the tall, east-facing windows. The glass is darkened with a blanket of snow.

“Storms don’t last forever.”

She clucks as though I’m a silly child. It makes heat rush to my cheeks.

Nalina barely manages to hide a sneer. I glare at her and lean into her blade, daring her to doubt me. A trickle of blood slides over my collarbone. I can feel the trail of its warmth between my breasts.

“You don’t know the north,” the queen says. “But you will learn.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” I snarl.

Tristan’s voice is low behind me. “It means, in Annwyn, winter is not so easily escaped.”

I turn to look at him, but he simply watches me, waiting for me to understand. I don’t.

“He means, you’re stuck here.” Nalina lowers her blade, her green eyes on me. “He means no one can survive out there until the snow melts.”

“I’ve survived worse than a little snow.”

Nalina outright laughs at that. “It is not just ‘a little snow.’”

The Dead Queen speaks, and Nalina falls respectfully silent. “In Annwyn, winter means frozen lands throughout the Spires. Beasts grow mad with starvation. Snowdrifts grow so tall, they can cover a fortress.” Once again, she gestures toward the high windows. From behind her veil, she turns her white eyes upon me.

“It means you are trapped here in Gwyllion until spring.”

Chapter 3

The corridors in Gwyllion Castle are a maze of shadows and stone. Cold drafts whisper between ancient tapestries that have long since faded into shades of muted gray. My boots echo each footstep as I storm away from the throne room. I don’t know where I’m going, but I hardly care. It’s one thing to trick me into traveling to Annwyn, it’s another entirely to trap me here for the winter months.

Behind me, I hear measured, familiar steps. I don’t bother looking back. After weeks spent traveling together, I’d recognize the cadence of Tristan’s footsteps anywhere. He’s wise to keep a safe distance behind me.

“Stop following me.”

“We need to talk.”

If I had any access to my power right now, I’d toss him head over heels down the corridor. Throw him out the tall, murky windows and into the swirling snowstorm. Make him sorry he’d ever stepped foot in Caerwen and tricked me into following him to this gods-forsaken wasteland. But this thought only infuriates me further, seeing as I haven’t been able to use my power since it saved us from the wraith-infested borderlands. I used to be able to use it to heal the wounded and summon light in the darkness, but now … nothing.

I whirl around. “Talk? Now you want to talk? After all your lies and deception?” My voice rises, catching in my chest. “You brought me here. To Annwyn. To her. You knew exactly who she was to me.”

He doesn’t even flinch. “Need I remind you that you wanted to find her?” He raises a dark eyebrow.

I shove a hand against his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

He narrows his eyes. “You were practically begging me to bring you to her.”

Blood boils in my veins. “No. You don’t get to twist it around like that.” I point one finger inches in front of his face. “I wanted you to tell me what happened to her.”