Richelle Mead - THORN QUEEN

He set my legs back flat on the bed and then lay on top of me, never breaking stride. If anything, he pumped more forcefully, nearing his own climax. That glorious hair rained down on my face, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, tangling my fingers in the silken strands. His own arms wrapped around my body, encircling me like a cocoon as his hips moved harder and harder.

Then, he exclaimed loudly, words that had no real form, and pressed his face against my neck as he came, his body spilling into mine. I held him close as he breathed heavily against my neck, his heart racing. Minutes passed, and his body finally calmed, though I continued to hold him. Finally, without breaking from my embrace, he lifted his head and brushed the hair from my face.

“I told you, Eugenie. I told you the world would be reborn when we were together. It will be reborn, and we will conquer it all….”

I brushed his lips with my fingers. “Don’t get carried away. We’re just settling a grudge here.”

The look in his eyes told me he believed a lot more would come of that, but he wisely said nothing. Rolling over, he settled beside me on the covers, and we both lay there, our fingers interlaced.

“I suppose,” I said at last, “I should go talk to all those people out there, seeing as they’re going to risk their lives for my honor.”

“It’s more than just your honor,” he said. “It’s the land’s too. You are the land, and when they see you, they will gladly fight for you.”

I sat up, my eyes falling on the silk dress. “I guess I’ve got to play the part. Too bad there’s no crown.”

Dorian sat up as well. “Isn’t there?”

He walked over to the table he’d set his sword and cloak upon when entering. I’d been too distraught to notice at the time, but there was a small cloth-wrapped bundle there too. He brought it over to me, and I found myself holding my breath. I suddenly knew what it was, and I was afraid.

“What’s wrong?” he asked when he held it out to me and I didn’t take it.

“I…I had a dream….”

I couldn’t explain that vision from the Underworld to him, that one where we’d stood on the hill together. When we had, I’d accepted Storm King’s crown-or, well, a feminine version of it-and that’s when I’d found myself looking down upon all those soldiers waiting to fight for me.

“What kind of dream?”

“It’s hard to explain.”

Not waiting for me, Dorian unwrapped the bundle himself. My heart lurched as I braced myself to see it again, an elaborate work of platinum, laden with diamonds and amethysts…

But it wasn’t.

The crown he held was gold and very, very delicate. I hesitantly took it and studied the fine details of it. There were little roses etched into it-roses with lots of thorns. Tiny emeralds-nothing too overwhelming-were scattered amongst the golden leaves. It didn’t resemble Storm King’s crown at all.

“This is Girard’s work,” I said with certainty.

“It is,” Dorian agreed, running a finger down my bare arm. He seemed relieved that I had taken the crown. “You aren’t the only one who can commission projects.”

“But he works for Katrice.”

“Not anymore. Remember that day you met him? I told you then he was an opportunist. He’s rolled the dice and decided we’re the side to align with-which, of course, we are. He’ll come in very handy for weapons, I think.”

My eyes were still on the crown and its beauty. I couldn’t explain how relieved I was that it was nothing like the crown from the vision. Hesitantly, I lifted it and rested it on top of my head. I looked to Dorian for confirmation. “What do you think?”

He smiled, reaching out to straighten it and arrange my hair slightly. “Go see for yourself.”

Climbing out of bed, I walked over to the full-length mirror and surveyed myself. I was still naked, all that pale skin contrasting with the red of my hair and the glitter of the crown. My hair didn’t have the blond that Jasmine’s did, but it had the occasional gold highlight, and the crown made those locks gleam as they rested just past my shoulders. The emeralds were subtle, not gaudy, but vivid enough to further set off my hair and eyes.

“So what do you think?” Dorian asked.

I glanced over at him, still sprawled on the bed and watching me with amusement. I turned back to the mirror, studying my naked, crowned self. I smiled.

“I think it looks good on me.”

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Copyright © 2009 by Richelle Mead

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ISBN: 1-4201-1111-6