Home > Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(163)

Broken Dove (Fantasyland #4)(163)
Author: Kristen Ashley

“Take hold of my arm,” Valentine ordered her.

“I don’t—” Franka started, shrinking away.

Valentine pinned her with her gaze.

“Do you seek vengeance?” she asked.

Franka hesitated before lifting her chin and answering, “Yes.”

“Then take my arm,” Valentine bid.

Franka wrapped her fingers around Valentine’s arm.

Valentine looked to the other Circe. “Gather the children. If the choice is to be made, you know the only protection that will keep them safe. Your life for theirs.”

The mood in the room, already dark, turned pitch.

Circe nodded.

Valentine lifted her hands.

Frey, Lahn and Tor gathered around Apollo.

“Bring them back,” Apollo growled.

Valentine smiled a cat’s smile.

“Oh chéri, have faith.”

Gods, the woman was bloody infuriating.

The green mist formed.

Franka and Valentine disappeared.

But Valentine’s final words could still be hard.

“Remember, love is everything.”

* * * * *

Maddie

Holding tight, we’d been falling but we landed with a thud that buckled our knees, each and every one of us.

Recovering, I jerked my hands, pulling Cora and Circe closer. Obviously, they did the same for Finnie was just as close, we four forming a tight huddle.

“All right?” Finnie asked.

“All right,” Cora whispered.

“Yeah,” Circe said.

“Okay,” I replied.

We looked at each other then we looked around.

“Fuck,” Circe breathed.

She had that right.

We were in a mammoth room that had to be at least the size of a football field. It was entirely made of grayish-white blocks of stone.

There were two gigantic wooden doors behind Finnie. They were at least two stories tall and made of grayish-white wood with what looked like pewter hinges. It also looked like it’d take half a dozen men to open them.

And last, they were closed.

But that wasn’t the bad part.

No.

The bad part was that we could see this beyond the glimmering, flickering, ethereal blue bars that formed a cage.

I looked up, seeing the bars curved in at the top, making an enormous, magical birdcage.

Well, one thing was certain, Minerva had a thing for birds.

Cora shuffled closer and I looked her way to see she was looking over her shoulder.

“Not good,” she mumbled.

I looked that way and went stone-still.

This was because the cage was situated close to some steps leading up to a dais.

And on that dais was a large throne that looked to be made of gray-ish white branches that swept out and up, ending in lethal-looking thorns.

Sitting on that throne was Pol.

And last, snuggled in his lap was Cora, the Nasty.

Fuck.

We all turned toward them in unison, letting each other’s hands go but tightening our huddle.

Cora, the Nasty was grinning down at us.

Pol was scowling down at me.

Fuck.

“Looks like those two found their perfect match,” Cora muttered under her breath.

It was funny.

It was also true.

No one laughed.

We all just stayed close and watched the couple watching us.

Unfortunately, Pol moved.

He rose from the throne, lifting Cora with him. He put her to her feet and slung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight to his side.

She cuddled tighter, wrapping an arm around his waist.

And in that position, they moved down the steps toward our cage.

We all stood still and watched them.

They kept coming.

I fought my teeth worrying my lip as Pol continued to approach, every move he made he did it with his eyes glued to me.

They came to the glistening blue bars of the cage and I held my breath.

My stomach dropped when they walked right through.

The women shifted and did it shifting me so they could surround me.

But Pol didn’t stop close.

He stopped five feet away and the instant he did, Cora, the Nasty turned into him and curled both her arms around his middle.

Her eyes were aimed at Cora, the Awesome.

After I noticed this, I aimed my eyes back to Pol.

When I did, he lifted the arm that was around Cora’s shoulders and waved his hand in the air.

I hadn’t noticed it.

Then I did.

And I felt my lips part in terrified awe.

“Nice,” he said low, his voice sinking into my skin and not in a good way. “Steel,” he went on and my eyes darted to the shining molten silver hand that moved like a normal hand but was absolutely not. “It’s heavy,” he continued then finished, “But it works.”

The women pressed in closer around me.

“Yours,” Cora, the Nasty put in at this point and I tore my eyes from Pol to look at her and see she was still looking at Cora, the Cool. “Flawed,” she carried on and cuddled deeper into Pol. “Mine is perfect.”

Pol curled his arm tight around her again.

I felt bile fill my throat.

We all jumped as we heard the loud creak of hinges fill the space. Then we all looked over our shoulders to see the doors swinging backward.

In walked a round man wearing a red velvet cloak with black velvet breeches, exceptionally gleaming black boots and a shiny red silk shirt.

When he got closer, I noticed he also had mean, beady eyes.

He stopped outside the bars of the cage, looked in, his gaze moving straight to Circe.

Then it went to Pol.

“Is that one mine?” he asked.

“No,” Pol answered. “Yours is coming.”

The man looked back to Circe and at the look on his face, this time I had to swallow down the bile when he declared, “If I don’t get her, I’ll take this one.”

“Baldur,” Circe murmured low.

Fantastic.

“Watching them all these months,” Cora, the Nasty stated and we all looked her way to see she’d disengaged from Pol and was prowling a circle around us. “They all seemed so brave.” She stopped and tipped her head to the side, studying us. “Not so brave without swords at their back.”

Again, my body froze except my eyes, which shot to Pol when he said, “Seems I’ll finally get a kid outta you.” My breath froze when he continued. “Me and Cora, we get to raise yours.” He tipped his head Cora, the Righteous’s way. “And hers.”

Oh boy.

This was getting worse.

“Edith wants the ice,” Baldur said and we all looked to him to see him looking at Finnie. “She wants it because she wants the dragons and elves. She’ll be taking yours.”

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