Moon's Flower (Kingdom, #6)

An eruption of giggles resounded and Danika had to clap her hands to regain order. “Enough ladies, if you carry on like a bunch of squawking baboons I’ll never be able to finish this tale. Now do you want to hear more or not?”


From the corner of her eye, Danika noted Genevieve’s head poking out from between branches. Snorting, she realized the churlish sprite hadn’t left at all, but was actually hanging on to her every word.

Well, and why not, Danika was a damn fine storyteller. Everyone in Kingdom knew it.

An expectant hush fell around them.

“Now, as I was saying, Jericho was determined to find his beautiful Calanthe…”

*

Jericho paced his balustrade. Siria had flooded the sky with so much sun today that’d it’d very nearly blinded him and forced him to hide in the deepest recesses of the floating castle in the sky.

But now his moon was growing stronger and soon it would be his turn to rule the skies.

Impatient now, he pounded his booted feet back and forth, back and forth. The electrical charge of Siria’s presence failed to ignite the potent rage he’d known for so long.

All he felt was a driving need to see Calanthe, to be where she was. He hoped she’d stolen another seed. He wanted her touch, wanted her smell of blossoms to drip all around him…

“You are distracted this night,” Siria’s husky tone set his teeth on edge.

Well, apparently there was a little rage still.

Crossing his arms behind his back, he looked at her. “I suppose I am.”

She was dressed as seductively as ever. This time in a gown spun from fire. It whipped and crackled around her, licking at her toned flesh. Tossing out little bits of sparks with each step she took toward him.

“How do I look today, Jericho?” she inquired with a flirty grin, twirling on her toes.

She was beautiful. In fact, he could even admit that she may be more beautiful than Calanthe.

But beauty was superficial, skin deep. It meant little.

Last night, he’d seen Calanthe. Felt her soul slide upon his. Her purity of heart, her joy and verve… it’d awakened him, made him want in a way he never had before. Siria could never compare.

He shrugged. “You look fine.”

Shocked, she jerked back as if he’d smacked her and then glowered. “This is not why I brought you here.”

Nostrils flaring, he dared to take a step toward her. “Then why did you bring me here? To enslave me? Hmmm?”

Big, fat tears dripped from the corners of her large tawny eyes. But she may have well been made of wax, apart from the tears her facial features did not change. “To love me, as you did back then on Earth.”

Scoffing, he curled his upper lip. “That was a long time ago, do not mistake my feelings for you then, with what I feel for you now. You tricked me, Siria. I will never forgive you for what you’ve done.”

His heart quickened as he noted the radiance of her countenance slowly began to fade.

“You will love me!” she shrieked in a final, fiery burst before vanishing from the strength of his darkness.

Rolling his neck from side to side, he forced Siria’s mood from his thoughts.

Tonight he did not need to think long or hard about what he wished to see. There was only one he wanted to watch and that was Calanthe. In seconds her image coalesced before him and every beat of his heart was a yearning to get closer.

One more day, one more day and he could go to her.

“Calanthe,” he whispered to the image forming before him. He didn’t know what else to say, or if there was even anything else to say… just saying her name felt too big.

Emotions warred within him. His body hummed, the blood sang in his veins, raged through his ears and though he couldn’t smell her now as he had when he’d been that flower, he could vividly remember the wash of her roses, the silken glide of her fingers.

All throughout the night he studied her, learning her, and falling very, very deeply in love…

*

Calanthe tiptoed out of her cottage and headed straight for the head mistresses’ home. Swallowing hard, ignoring the revelry all around her she had a mission, and that was to grow another moon flower.

Her obsession had only grown as the day continued. This was foolish, asinine, and all sorts of ridiculous, she understood that. Stealing once from Galeta might be overlooked, stealing twice… she shivered.

No, she bit down on the inside of her cheek, it was downright wicked.

But she had to do it. She couldn’t explain it. From the moment the flower had bloomed for her, it was like a part of her soul had entwined with it. Her heart ached. Literally hurt in her chest, each beat was a throb that bled anew with the thought of never seeing that flower again.

And yes the flower was pretty, and rare, but it was more than that. She didn’t know why, or how, she simply knew that it was.