Page 45 of Wicked Prince of Mirrors
When his lips were gone I felt the imprint on my mouth and I wanted to kiss him again and again.
My eyelids fluttered open and he was right there, so close, the smoldering intensity in his eyes would swallow me whole. He brushed his thumb over my lips, sending delightful shivers down my spine.
“I’ve wanted to taste your lips for a long time,” he whispered.
“Kiss me again,” I coaxed, not wanting to think too hard nor question when his feelings for me began. I just wanted to feel, to be swept away under the intoxication of his touch.
His lips brushed mine, gently at first and then not gently at all. His fingers closed around my neck, drawing me closer and I pressed my body against his, hands against his chest, filling the rapid drum of his heartbeat which matched my own.
15
ESMIRA
“Who are you?” I whispered to Lyra.
We sat in a small chamber, breakfast scattered across a long table. It was quiet, the morning after the celebration but the guards had still woken us early. We’d seen none of the Everminati as we crossed the halls, and I was disappointed to find the chamber empty, no signs of Methrin.
The heated kisses from last night still lingered on my lips along with his intoxicating scent of oakmoss, hints of vanilla, and something darker. My heart beat faster every time I thought of him. Last night we’d been so close. Would it continue, or was it just a side effect of the high emotions that surged after the trial? At least I had a better grasp of the truth, but not about Lyra. Learning about her background was a welcome distraction.
She flashed me a smile. “What do you mean?”
I choose my next words carefully. “Didyou know your father was from here? And he originally came to the mortal realm with Prince Methrin?”
She put down her fork, and a bright red fruit rolled off it. “Yes. I knew. My father’s stories always spoke of higher beings, another race and magic beyond anything I’ve ever seen. Honestly, I haven’t tested the limits of my magic. I believe it’s similar to my father’s, perhaps greater.”
“Do you know who your mother is? Do you believe you’re fully human?”
She laughed. “I’m part human, part Everminati, but not enough to have the pointed ears. I’m sure you noticed how unusually tall my father and I are.”
I had noticed. Tall and lean. Just like the Everminati. Full of magic but without pointed ears. It all made sense now.
“Is that why you wanted to come here so badly, to discover the truth?”
“I wanted to know who my people are, but more than anything, I want to follow in the footsteps of my father and do something great.”
By my account, her father had done nothing great. He had saved Prince Methrin’s life, but it’s likely he played a hand in unleashing the king of monsters. But I did not want to dwell on those drawbacks. “You understand magic. What do you think happened here? Why is magic gone?”
Lyra pressed her lips together then held her hands over the food. A flicker of light came, and the vegetables started sprouting, as did the fruit.
I gasped.
Lyra frowned. “Do you feel your magic? Can you make your hands glow?”
I reached deep within to that bud of magic and let it unfurl, growing until my hands began tingling.
Lyra’s eyes went wide. “You and I still have magic. So either they are lying or?—”
“Or?” I prodded.
“Or their source of magic has been depleted.” Lyra leaped to her feet and started pacing, drumming her fingertips on her chin. “Tales of old claim that Everminati were created from stardust and drew their power from the lights of night, the moon in particular. I wonder if the moon has something to do with the loss of their magic, but it’s impossible to draw conclusions based on what limited knowledge we have. We need to know when this started, what information the other scholars have, the history of magic?—”
“We don’t have time,” I interrupted. “The monster is out there, growing stronger.”
“It might not be,” Lyra disagreed. “How many years have passed since Prince Methrin was trapped in the mirrorverse? How many decades has the monster roamed the human realm?”
The truth wailed up inside me. I’d forgotten to tell Methrin I’d encountered the king of monsters in the mirrorverse. It was still out there, hidden in the secret places, lurking in the shadows. Perhaps many had encountered it and were simply too ashamed to speak of it. It was terror. A nightmare. Even my mind wasn’t sure I’d experienced it.
But what if the truth was simple? No one spoke of the king of monsters, and no beast had ever attacked the palace. Rumors of beasts spread far and wide, creating chaos, but my father kept his focus on the Boundary and creating alliances to give him more armies. The king of monsters was a legend, believed in but unseen. If not for the incident with my mother, the specter that flickered on the edges of my vision, and the hissing voice in my head, I wouldn’t believe in the monster. But what if that was how it appeared? And there were no stories about it because everyone who saw it died—or went insane?
