Page 4

CHAPTER 4

Seraphine

Death was quiet. Death was easy. I did not go fighting—I went falling. The moment blood pooled along the tip of my finger, I felt the weight of it. I felt my eyes drifting to the back of my head. I began to fall, but someone caught me mid-air. It was the last thought I had before I slept the last dreamless sleep.

But someone was pulling. Someone was tugging, yanking. It felt as if my soul was parting from my chest, heaving me upright, disturbing my slip into an endless abyss.

I stumbled back, drifting a few steps down the altar steps.

No…I didn’t.

I was there, sprawled across the altar as if a sacrifice in cascades of white to the Goddesses themselves. I blinked, frowning. Urik hovered over my body, holding my face upright, stroking my cheek in an unnaturally tender embrace.

“I should have guessed you’d be here.” The rugged grumble came from Korven. He was staring at someone just over my shoulder.

I turned and gasped. “Fiola?”

She nodded, her rosy cheeks bobbing in excitement along with the piled silver curls atop her head. “Yes, dearest, of course I’d be here. I knew he would come.” She tsked. “You nasty raven, you. I admit, I expected Reshina herself to deliver this one. Is she preparing you to take over her duties? You have bad luck this time, meeting one of the Goddesses to alter the curse.”

I gasped again. “You can alter the curse?”

“Of course, I can, sweet child!” she giggled. “I have done so already! Look down!”

I let my gaze fall to my feet. Only my feet were not there. Nor was my body. I could see the diamond pattern of the carpet through myself. I held my hands in front of my face, my mouth agape as I looked through my ethereal form to the benches of the temple, guests at my wedding still frozen from Korven’s arrival.

“Am I dead?”

“Not entirely,” Fiola responded flippantly. “Now, on to the next adjustments.”

“It seems you have this handled,” Korven began. “I’ve done my duty and will take my leave.”

“You will stop right there, Korven, Ravenfae Prince of the Brackish Wood.”

At her use of his full title, he froze, his black feathered wings unfurled as if he was moments from taking flight.

She cleared her throat. “That’s better. Now, Seraphine, listen carefully.” She stepped closer, reaching out as if to grab my shoulders as she had done many times back in her court in Moonstone Wood. “Oops,” she laughed, her hands falling through my form. “Well, there is time to change that, dear. I could not reverse the curse. If I had not been sure to attend your wedding tonight, yes, you would be dead.”

“Dead?” I whispered.

“Yes, dear, dead.” She grinned, then shouted over my shoulder, “Do stop that, Prince Urik! You’re embarrassing yourself!”

I twisted to look at the altar where my betrothed pressed his lips to my lifeless body over and over, shaking me roughly.

“You cannot break the curse, you silly little man!”

“Who-who can?” I stammered.

She tittered, practically buzzing a foot below my gaze. “That’s the fun of it, dear! We do not know!”

I shook my head, reaching up to pinch the bridge of my nose, only to find my hand drifting through my head.

She continued in glee. “Whether royal, baker, or candlestick maker, you must find the one who loves you most. Who loves you as you are, freckles, blush, and scars, at the next Cursed Moon, you must find the one who loves you most.”

“Loves me most? What does that mean exactly?”

She laughed behind her hand. “I don’t know that, either! That’s the stipulation to break the curse. Now, I’ve been able to pull you from your body, so that you have the chance to find this person, but you only have until the next Cursed Moon to do it. This person must kiss that body’s lips”—she pointed a periwinkle fingernail to the altar—“to break the curse. Only then will you fully return.”

“Fully return?”

“Oh!” she squealed. “I don’t want to spoil that! Now, you will need some assistance in this task as you are only visible to faekind, dear, and your curse breaker may not be fae at all! This is marvelous!” she exclaimed. “It will be so much fun to see how this ends.”

She stepped around me, hands on her hips as she addressed Korven. “You will be helping her in this task.”

“I will not,” he responded, his lips moving but his teeth frozen shut.

“Don’t take that tone with me, Prince. You have no choice in the matter, and Seraphine needs you.”

His dark eyes pierced me as he took me in from top to bottom. I looked away, embarrassed to see him again after so many years. And as a ghostly figure, no less.

Fiola tapped his nose three times and his frozen body released. “There. Now your fate is bound to hers. If she dies, you die, so you’d better get a move on.”

His wings spanned wide and he rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck. For a brief moment, he paused, taking me in again and then my body draped over Urik whose face seared with rage. Korven bent to meet Fiola head on. “If you’ve killed me, old woman, my mother will seek her revenge in blood.”

“Oh, posh,” she flicked his nose. “Your mother can’t do a thing to me. And she must have known this was a possible outcome if she gave such a curse to one of my favorite humans. For all you know, she expected this very thing to happen.”

His dark eyes darted to me again, and I straightened. My translucent body held no heart, but I felt as if I could hear it, pounding under his assessing gaze.

“Fine. Until the next Cursed Moon then. Do you have a suggestion on where we should start looking for this person?”

“Haven’t the foggiest idea!” Fiola exclaimed, erupting in giggles again.

Korven sighed, spinning on his heels to approach the prince. “Keep her body in your castle. We will return in ten days with someone to kiss your betrothed.”

Urik rose. “I will not stand for this! Bring her back!”

“Weren’t you listening?” Korven scoffed. “To break the curse, she must be kissed by the one who loves her most.” He cocked his head, the movement avian in nature. “Turns out, that’s not you.”

“If you think I’m going to let some beggar you find off the streets kiss my wife?—”

In a flash of obsidian feathers, he lifted Urik by the puffed collar, holding him above his face. “She’s not your wife,” Korven seethed, “and you will allow anyone we bring back to kiss her because I’m not going to let us die from your idiocy. Understand, Your Highness?”

Urik gripped Korven’s forearms, nodding. The Ravenfae let him go, turned and walked down the aisle. “Let’s go, Princess.”

“Is she really there?” Urik called, his eyes darting all around.

I lifted my hand to wave wildly at him. “He truly cannot see me. Can he hear me?”

Korven stopped at my side and leaned in closer. “Not sure—want to say how you really feel?”

I laughed abruptly. “Urik, you absolute shit , I hate you and will never marry you! Do not touch my body, do not even look at me, you pompous ass!”

I drew a sharp breath, surprised at my own outburst. Urik did nothing but continue his deep-set frown, his pale eyes darting all over the temple for any sign of me.

Fiola giggled in her way. “Go now, you two. I’ll finish up here and explain. Time is ticking.” She tapped her hip as if she wore a pocket watch.

“You heard her, Phinie.” Korven whispered low into my ear. “Let’s fly.”