Coldbloods (Hotbloods #2)

Navan smiled. “Also a good idea,” he replied, twisting a strand of my hair between his fingertips. “I’d like to show you the Observatory too.”

“Sounds interesting,” I said, still a little nervous about the idea of walking around Vysanthe, with coldbloods at every turn. I leaned my forehead against Navan’s, letting our breaths mingle together. “You know, I’m almost glad that I’m here—with you. Even if it means…”

“Don’t, Riley. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you,” Navan breathed, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. He pressed his lips to mine in a kiss that was slow and sweet, before he pulled back to look into my eyes. “We should get some rest for tomorrow,” he said, his voice a little stronger, and I nodded.

Exhausted, I didn’t bother to change out of my clothes from the ship as I slipped under the covers. Navan took off his shirt, and my gaze traced his bare back.

“I’ve always been curious about your wings,” I said shyly. “How do they feel? Could you…?”

A smirk returned to Navan’s lips as he unfurled his dark wings in a gust of air, and joined me in the bed. He pulled me into the comfort of his arms and enveloped us in his wings. I felt their strangely smooth surface against my skin as I drifted off.

At least for tonight, I could sleep well.





Chapter Nineteen





An icy dawn rose over Vysanthe, cold light glancing in through the narrow slats that served as windows. I awoke, smiling at the blanket of wings that enveloped me, only to jolt a moment later at the sight of Aurelius standing at the foot of the bed.

“The queen wishes to see you in her garden,” he announced, at least having the decency to avert his gaze. I shuddered as I wondered how long he’d been standing there, watching us sleep.

Navan stirred, sitting bolt upright when his eyes settled on Aurelius. “Ever heard of knocking?” he growled, running a weary hand through his hair.

“I’ll wait outside while you make yourself presentable,” Aurelius said crisply, before turning and heading out the door.

Standing, Navan folded away his wings, before pulling on the black t-shirt he had cast aside the night before. I was still fully dressed, though sleeping in the clothes from the ship had left me feeling dirty and uncomfortable. Walking over to the wardrobe that stood beside the twin beds, I opened it and took a look inside.

The clothes weren’t quite in keeping with human fashion, but they weren’t that much different than what I was used to. I picked out a cream-colored sweater, made from the softest material I had ever felt, hastily took off the t-shirt I was wearing and pulled it on. I couldn’t help but wonder what it might be made from—spun material from the backside of some savage, fanged creature, maybe? Pushing the thought away, I looked down at myself, liking the way the sweater looked. The jeans would have to wait, but even a fresh top made me feel better—less sticky and gross, at least.

“You should grab a jacket, too,” Navan suggested, coming over to pick out a huge furry coat. He draped it around my shoulders, and I pulled a face. It looked like there was a dead animal hanging on my back—which, I supposed, there was. Only, from the limp fur and strange flaps that looked like ears, it seemed like it had been killed mere seconds ago.

“I can’t wear this,” I said sadly, realizing the remnants of a fluffy tail were hanging down one lapel.

Navan shrugged. “It’s either this, or you freeze.”

Not exactly thrilled with my new attire, I kept it on as we left our quarters and followed Aurelius to the same elevator we had used the previous day. This time, however, the elevator didn’t seem to go down, as I’d expected. Instead, it zipped horizontally, the force still brutal against my human skin.

It stopped abruptly, causing me to stumble forward. Navan caught me by the waist, his reflexes sharp.

“Everything’s so much more violent here,” I breathed, regaining my composure, knowing I hadn’t seen the half of it.

“You’re not wrong,” he muttered.

The doors of the elevator slid open onto a wide, open courtyard, a blast of biting wind gusting in, nipping at my cheeks. Instantly, I felt glad to have the furry coat, which was keeping out most of the icy wind. Not all, but most. At least I wouldn’t be a shivering wreck when I was brought before the queen this time.

The courtyard itself was empty, save for a bare, skeletal tree that rose up in the center, its bark a jet black, streaked through with veins of pure white. It was strangely beautiful, its clawed branches curving skyward. Overhead, the sky itself was a silvery gray, with deep purple clouds swirling menacingly in wispy clusters. In the air, I could smell the metallic scent of ozone, like the atmosphere before a storm. I wondered if the scent, so close to the tang of blood, was always there.

We hurried after Aurelius, who was walking remarkably quickly. Passing through the courtyard, we reached a covered walkway that reminded me of church cloisters, the stonework a gleaming gray marble. Nothing grew here, except the odd twisting vine bearing the petals of a black flower or two, or bunches of vibrant red berries. Against the biting wind and the grim weather, I was surprised that even they had found the audacity to flourish here.

Before long, we reached a tall set of stone doors, embedded within a large building that looked somewhat cathedral-like in its grandeur, stained-glass windows glinting in the white sunlight. At the entrance, two guards wielded spears; their faces were streaked black and red, as the Impalers’ had been. They nodded to Aurelius, saying nothing to Navan and me as the wizened old man, his half-wing dangling down limply, ushered us inside.

Beyond the vast doors lay a botanical garden, and the scent of unusual and exotic blooms bombarded my nostrils. A fine spray of water jetted out from the sides of the stone walls every few minutes, the mist floating down to rest on the flowers beneath.

Everything about Vysanthe felt gloomy and cold, but not this place. Here, there were flowers and bushes and trees of all shapes, sizes, and colors. I noticed a rosebush nearby, harboring the most beautiful rusty-orange roses I had ever seen, though the sight of them threw me for a second—how did they come to have roses on Vysanthe? Did they grow elsewhere in the universe? Apparently so…

Queen Gianne was standing at the far end of the gigantic space, tending to a tree that bore a lurid blue fruit on its branches. Her copper hair was tied up out of her face, her silver eyes focused on the task at hand. She was collecting a small basketful of the fruits, effortlessly reaching up to pluck them off.

She turned as we approached, still holding her basket of blue fruit. “Ambrosia?” she asked, turning one around in her elegant hand, before extending it out to Navan.

Navan shook his head. “Solid food doesn’t sit well with me, Your Highness,” he said apologetically.

“Well then, perhaps your little pet might like a taste?” She smiled coldly, her eyes snapping toward me.