Page 33

Chapter

Thirty

T he world snaps back into focus as the torches flicker to life once more, casting erratic shadows on the walls. My heart hammers against my ribs, my breath misting in the frigid air.

Eron betrayed us. Or did he?

Nash’s body tilts forward, poised for battle, the knights bracing for an inevitable fight. I don’t know what’s worse—the eerie silence stretching between us, or the expectation that something catastrophic is about to happen.

Theo lets out a low growl beside Nash. “No more games,” he mutters under his breath. His body stiffens, his pupils narrowing into slits.

The air around us crackles with a familiar, awesome raw power as Theo’s metamorphosis begins. I can’t decide if this is going to make things better or worse.

Scales, shimmering like precious gems, cascade over his flesh in a tumultuous wave, each glimmer reflecting the stunned faces surrounding him.

His body stretches and contorts, defying the laws of nature as he grows larger and more formidable with every heartbeat.

With a mighty roar, his wings erupt from his back, unfurling like sails caught in a tempest, their vast expanse tearing through solid sheets of ice surrounding us.

The heavy table and chairs spiral through the air, caught helplessly in the whirlwind of his awakening.

The sheer force of his change sends reverberations through the walls, and in that chaos, an undeniable sense of wonder fills the hearts of those who witness this breathtaking spectacle. This will never get old.

The ice warriors emerge from the frigid ground, towering figures of glistening frost and jagged ice, their imposing presence sending shivers down my spine.

They raise their menacing spears towards us, each one reflecting the pale light, casting eerie shadows that dance around them.

The atmosphere grows heavy with an otherworldly chill as the warriors stand sentinel, their crystalline skin shimmering ominously.

Theo’s roar shatters the tension, his golden eyes aflame with defiance against the encroaching terror. The Snow Queen recoils in fear, her breath hitching as she shields her face from his wrath.

A familiar burst of purple smoke appears at my side. “Wow, I can hear him all the way in my lamp,” the genie drawls, arms crossed as he surveys the destruction. “You could have avoided this with one teensy, tiny wish. Just saying.”

I groan. “Not the time.”

“Oh, I think it is.” He leans on an invisible counter, watching Theo smash an ice warrior into the wall.

“See, if you had wished for, oh, I don’t know, instant escape, we’d be sipping hot cocoa in a safe house right now.

Instead, here we are, mid-battle, while you’re ankle-deep in ice shards, trapped in a confined space with a dragon who is destroying the fixtures.

” He tsks. “I’d hate to receive the repair bill. ”

Right on cue, the stunning chandelier crashes to the floor.

Sir Sweeps-A-Lot springs into action—or rather, into frantic sweeping action, making me groan. “Not now, buddy. This isn’t the time for tidying.”

Theo’s enormous wings churn the air, sending shards of ice flying in all directions. His fiery breath surges down, engulfing the ice around our legs. It hisses and cracks, then shatters completely, freeing our feet.

Malachi lets out a whoop. “About damn time, Theo!”

Genie points at me. “That? That was just a demonstration of what I could’ve done instantly. But hey, you do you.”

Before the warriors can reform, the knights spring into action, snatching up the fallen ice spears scattered across the floor. Hart swings his new weapon in a swift arc, slicing through the nearest enemy, an evil grin forming on his face. “Not bad for an impromptu armory.”

Nash tosses a spear into Charming’s waiting hands. The Snow Queen growls and lifts her hands. “I’m not playing, Daphne. Are you willing to lose your loves for nothing?”

My heart stutters in my chest as her gaze narrows on Hart who is battling ice warriors like it’s a relaxing pastime. “Hart, we need to get out of here,” I shout as three more warriors emerge around him. My fingers tingle with a familiar pull of power.

The Snow Queen smirks. “You think you can run? You haven’t begun to understand the power I wield.”

Eron’s expression hardens. “You were right about one thing, Sara. This has been a long time coming.” His body radiates a shimmering golden light that dances around him like ethereal flames.

Eron’s reflection warps and swirls as he transforms, reminiscent of sunlight glimmering on a tranquil lake.

His hands grow in size and strength, morphing into formidable paws, each claw a testament to his newfound might.

The strands of his hair surge forth, thickening into a mane that cascades around him, catching the light and enhancing his regal presence.

His eyes ignite with an inherent ferocity, glowing with an untamed and wild power that seems to pierce through the shadows.

A majestic lion emerges where Eron once stood, his fur glowing with the radiant warmth of molten sunlight, stark against the frigid darkness that envelops him.

The air crackles with energy, a palpable testament to the grandeur of his transformation.

The queen takes an involuntary step back. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Eron lets out a low, rumbling sound before pouncing. The force of his attack sends the queen crashing against the frozen wall. A deafening roar erupts from his chest, shaking the castle to its core. Ice cracks along the ceiling, spider webbing outward as chunks rain down around us.

The genie slow-claps. “Wow. Big moment. Very dramatic.” He glances at me. “You sure you don’t want a wish right now to avoid the fallout?”

I shake my head at him. The last thing this situation needs is the unpredictable consequences of a wish.

“Time to go!” Malachi shouts as Theo’s tail smashes through a collapsing archway, clearing the exit.

Nash grabs my hand, and we bolt toward the grand staircase leading down. The Snow Queen shrieks in fury, hurling more ice in our direction. Eron dives on her with an ear-splitting roar that makes my teeth ache.

Theo shields us with his wings, his body barely squeezing through the corridor as we descend the spiralling steps two at a time.

The genie floats beside me, looking bored. “You know, there’s a faster way.”

“Let me guess. A wish?”

“Ding ding ding! Give the girl a prize.” He gestures grandly. “Just say the word, and we could skip this whole fiasco.”

I huff. “Not happening.”

“Suit yourself.” He casually flicks his fingers, and one of the pursuing ice warriors slips and falls down the entire flight of stairs. “That one’s on the house.”

I don’t have time to dwell on it. Another ice warrior materializes at the base of the stairs, but before it can so much as blink, Malachi’s spear slices through it.

Wait, do they blink? I didn’t spot eyelids.

Does that mean their eyeballs get dry? Oh my Idols, what about sneezing?

Everyone knows if you sneeze with your eyes open, they pop out.

We burst through a set of doors and race into the stables. Through the chaos, I spot a horse. I’ve got this—horses don’t eat faces. In a feat no one thought possible, I dive on the back of the horse.

“Daphne, no,” Hart snaps. Holy hairy balls of Idols, I did it. Bah, what’s he worrying about?

The horse stiffens and lets out a deep, outraged bellow. That’s an odd sound for a horse. “I’m not a common steed,” he roars. Horses talk? How unusual.

Sir Sweeps-A-Lot swoops in and tries to sweep my feet off the talking horse’s back. “Stop that! You’re making it worse,” I yelp. “This is not a tactical extraction!”

The genie rolls his eyes. “You make the weirdest choices.” The talking horse dislodges me, and I hit the ground with an ungraceful thud, my foot tangled in his mane. Genie pats my shoulder. “I’d offer to wish you some dignity, but even my powers have limits.”

I shoot him a glare. “I hate you.”

He blows me a kiss. “Love you, too.”

“I’m a mystical, highly revered centaur,” the horse snaps.

I lift my head, finding a pair of furious hazel eyes glaring at me from a very masculine face.

Another half beast, half man creature? I slam my eyes closed.

Don’t look. Don’t look. My right eye peeks open.

Too late. It’s there, but at least it’s not erect.

I’ve heard the term hung like a horse, so forgive my curiosity.

The centaur lets out a sharp whinny of outrage, shaking his head furiously as my foot remains hopelessly tangled in his thick, luxurious mane. “Get off me, you deranged tree-dweller!” he bellows, jerking his head in wild, exaggerated motions that send me flailing like a rag doll.

“I’m trying!” I squeak. My hand wraps around Hart’s ankle, sweeping him off his feet. “Sorry,” I mutter.

“That’s not helping!” the centaur snaps, spinning in a desperate attempt to rid himself of me.

Malachi doubles over laughing. “This is the greatest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Nash strides forward, attempting to intervene. “Daphne, stop squirming. You’re making it worse. And let go of Hart.” But my hand refuses to release him. The centaur bucks, sending me into another precarious half-spin, with Hart sweeping across the floor.

Theo appears down the stairs wrapped in his fur cloak. Is he naked under there? Why is my mind fixated on his state of undress at a time like this? Maybe it’s a panic response?

“How?” Theo asks as he folds his arms.

Malachi snorts. “She tried to mount him.”

“Without permission,” the centaur snaps.

“Someone help her,” Gwyneth demands.

Charming pushes her against the wall and turns his back. “Stay here, my love. I shall help her.”

Malachi reaches to grab my hand as I make another sweep across the floor. At least the fur cloak is protecting my back. “Just stay still, and I’ll?—”