Frostblood (Frostblood Saga #1)(81)

She stopped and turned, taking my wrist in her hand and squeezing in a comforting gesture.

“You can do this, Ruby,” she said, her conviction flowing into me. “Let the Minax inhabit you. Once you become one with it, you share its power. It’s the only way to destroy the throne and give us some hope of winning. Some hope for…” She trailed off.

“Rasmus?” I asked softly. Her eyes snapped to mine. “It’s clear you care for him.”

Her nostrils flared. “Perhaps I shouldn’t. Even before he took the throne, he was moody, unpredictable, and, well, troubled. But I cared for him anyway, for as long as I can remember.” She pressed her lips together. “When he became king, he turned into someone I didn’t recognize. His petty cruelty became monstrous, his unpredictability became wild changes in temper, and his black moods became…” She shook her head. “I lost him. If you destroy the throne, there is a chance I’ll have him back, the real him, and maybe I can help him return to something worth loving.”

Her confession stunned me, both the idea of loving Rasmus and the fact that she had confided in me.

We arrived at the tunnel exit, a stone’s throw from the looming outline of the throne.

“You have to do this, Ruby,” she whispered. “There are things I haven’t had a chance to tell you, but I know more about the throne than you can imagine. It has waited for you all these years. If you fail, every hope is lost. And I will be executed for helping you.”

“Yes,” a silky voice agreed. “But it wouldn’t be much of a loss.”





TWENTY-SEVEN



A FIGURE ROSE FROM THE THRONE, his bright hair haloed by light that burst through the window and ricocheted off facets of ice.

“Marella, my dear traitor.” He beckoned her forward.

“I didn’t betray you,” she said, her face ashen. “I’m trying to save you.”

He gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “The only person you care about saving is yourself. You may have fooled Ruby, but I know you too well. Come closer. I want to see those lovely little tears you manufacture so easily as you beg for your life.”

She turned and raced for the tunnel. When her hand touched the stone door, she cried out. Ice covered her fingers, fusing them to the handle. I put a hand out to melt the ice, but the familiar weight pressed on my chest, hiding my fire.

“You seem surprised to see me,” Rasmus said to me, his lips curving.

I willed my heart to slow and stepped forward. “You aren’t leading your men in battle?”

His eyes hooded. “I’ll reward the loyal ones and string up the traitors. The throne is only strengthened by battle.”

He spoke with lazy satisfaction, as if he’d shared some bit of arcane knowledge as a matter of idle curiosity.

“When people die by violence, the throne grows stronger and feeds its power to me.” He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the ice. “What were you planning to do here, my lovely Fireling?”

“I wanted the throne’s power, as you offered.”

His eyes opened, flaring. “Is that so? Well then, come.”

He strode forward, his hand circled my wrist, and he pulled me to the throne. As he pressed my hand against the ice, dark power surged into my fingers and up my arm, making my body hum with cold delight.

“You belong to the throne,” he said, sliding an arm around my back and holding me close, “and it belongs to me. That makes you mine, Ruby.”

He took my chin in his hand and turned my face to his. Overpowered by sensation, every sinew alive with the feel of the throne under my hand, I could only shake my head.

His lips found the pulse that beat in my temple, sending liquid sparks into my veins. “Take it into your heart,” he whispered, the words piercing my skin.

“Let Marella go,” I managed to say. “You have no quarrel with her.”

His narrowed gaze moved to Marella where she was trying to free herself. Icicles had formed in her hair.

“She didn’t tell you?” he asked. “Lady Marella conspired against me with my own captain. In exchange for a pile of coin to pay off his gambling debts, he took you to Blackcreek Prison instead of bringing you here. She hid you from me.”

My shocked gaze locked with his. “That’s why you gave him to me in the arena. Because he betrayed you.”

“I don’t regret his death.”

“Have you ever regretted anyone’s?”

A pale brow rose and his lip twitched.

“She betrayed me. Spies in my inner circle.” He ran a finger along my chin. As a bit of my heat returned, I realized that when he touched me and the throne at the same time, it returned my gift to me, at least a part of it. “They’ll have to be purged. I’ll let you kill her when I finish questioning her. It will increase your power.”

The shadows in the throne thickened. I was able to summon enough of my gift to send warm air at Marella’s hands. She pulled free of the ice and darted back into the tunnel, the slap of her shoes echoing into silence.

Rasmus took my shoulders and shook me. “Your mercy is wasted.”

His lips covered mine. The pressure sent a surge through my body, glorious delight that obliterated all worry and fear, all concern for what I should and must do. There was only bliss and darkness. A shadow rose and towered over us.