I narrow my eyes, staring angrily towards the mountain range in the distance. I can almost see Maaz and her Bloodbane witches soaring over the mountain peaks on their deadwood brooms. But it’s only a flock of birds.
I’m running out of time. The night is disappearing, and the days are passing too quickly. I relish the night. Every morning, as dawn approaches, I can’t escape the memory of the day Maaz cursed me. Cursed me to become the beast she saw when I refused her. I close my eyes, envisioning the moment.
Maaz, dressed in the blood-red gown slinked into my throne room as if it were hers already. She had dragged her long, black fingernails across my throat and down my chest, grinning.
I will never forget that grin. Cursed, she had said. Cursed for a thousand years or until I find a Bloodbane witch to break the spell and bind herself to me willingly. Cursed to die, along with all of my people, at the end of the thousand years.
And time is running short.
My stomach twists as Maaz’s cruel smirk flashes through my mind again. The wind caresses my cheek, and I open my eyes to stare down at my city once more. My coat snaps out behind me as the wind speed picks up. It’s coming from the West, towards the mountains.
I scowl, probably a reminder from Maaz. A gloat. A boast. She thinks she’s won already. Fury sweeps through me, sending my blood singing with blood lust. I swing my arm towards the flag pole beside me, where my banner proudly waves, and drive my fist through the wood. It splinters loudly, and the pole breaks in half. It clatters to the stone floor of the tower, the flag coiled beneath it.
I stare down at it, at the black hawk poised to strike on the background of red fabric. My crest. My boot falls over the hawk as I drive the heel of my boot onto the hawk, soiling the flag. It’s a useless symbol, anyway. Behind me, I hear the soft sound of Navi clearing her throat.
“When did you get here?” I ask, kicking the flag away.
She stoops and collects it from the ground. Always the loyal and patriotic soldier. “When you destroyed a perfectly good flag pole with a single punch,” she says soberly. She folds the flag and cradles it in her arms.
I scoff. “Just let it go, Navi. That flag won’t mean anything soon.”
“Quitting right before the end?” Navi asks, her green eyes flashing. “I expected more than that from our King.”
“King,” I echo softly. “A failure, you mean.”
“Altair,” she whispers, placing a thin hand on my shoulder. “There is hope yet.”
I turn to her, twisting my shoulder out from under her touch. She tucks her long hair behind one of her pointed ears as I stare coldly at her. “Don’t feed me lies, Navi.”
“Your Majesty, the scholars have identified the one who may be the key to ending the curse. We know where she is now.” Navi’s eyes glitter. “Let me retrieve her.”
“They found her?” I ask as the sun’s first rays slip over the horizon. Disbelief taints my voice. We’ve searched for her for hundreds of years, many of the scholars said it was impossible. That her existence was only a legend, a rumor.
I have waited almost five hundred years for this moment.
“I will go,” Navi says.
“No.” I turn to the rising sun. “I will.”
Chapter Two
Verity
The lipstick is too red for my tastes, a sharp contrast to my ivory skin. I sigh and wipe at it with a towel, smearing it a little. Tara clucks her tongue at me and uses a finger to gentle nudge my face towards her. She takes the towel and adjusts the makeup.
“What’s on your mind? I thought we decided on that lipstick yesterday,” she says. “Let’s go nude.”
I puff out my cheeks as she rummages through her makeup bag for a more natural lip. “I wouldn’t say that I’m getting cold feet . . . but I am apprehensive, let’s say.”
She paints my lips with the nude coral tone. Much better. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You can back out now if you want to, run away even. I’ve got your back.”
“Tara, you know I can’t,” I say. “My parents, well, they need this.”
Tara purses her lips and steps back to survey the whole picture. “God, you look gorgeous. Come look.” She maneuvers me in front of the floor-length mirror so I can see myself. “You’re the prettiest bride in the world.”
Dressed in a sleeveless ivory lace gown that hugs my figure before falling loosely to the floor in twirls of tulle, I do look the picture of a bride. Even if I don’t quite feel it. “The nude lip looks much better,” I remark, twisting my head to the side to admire my hair.
Tara, my maid of honor and best friend, adjusts her purple gown and huffs. “Henry is such a manipulative bastard.”
I know instantly what she’s talking about. We’ve had this discussion many times since I first accepted Henry’s proposal. “Hey.” I eye her. “It’s not unusual for a husband to help his in-laws financially.”
My father ended up with expensive medical bills after his chemotherapy a few years ago. He and my mother pay them off little by little, but they won’t have made a dent in the debt by the time they pass. And worrying about the debt falling on my shoulders has made them physically sick numerous times. We do what we can. Henry saw the struggle and promised to help if I married him.
“Yeah, but most men don’t bribe women into marrying them with that,” Tara says pointedly. “I mean, would you have married him if he hadn’t led with that offer?”
I sigh. “No. I mean, I don’t know. Maybe.”
Tara snorts.
“Henry
