FCRAs Runner-Up!
Take a step back from the Snow White tale you know. Step back to get a better look.
Skin pale as snow.
Hair black as ebony.
Lips red as blood.
What does that sound like to you, dear reader? A creature of the dark. One that lives...
Special thanks to @moonshadow8888 for drawing Maris!! You captured her perfectly, I can't thank you enough! Also, special thank (again!) to seventhstarfor the fantastic new cover! Isn't it beautiful??
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I had come to terms with my sleepless nights. They were inconvenient, and would eventually be a hazard. But on nights were everything I had fell apart, the blissful nothingness that was sleep became unattainable for me. The nights after Frewin's death were like that, and there were times that I still couldn't sleep without seeing his dying face.
Last night, between Beck and the elk heart, I didn't even go back to my bedroom. How could I? Knowing what I knew, knowing what monster I had probably awakened. God only knew what Snow would do now since I had sent Beck to kill her. She knew, there was no doubt. She's too smart not to know. The only question was, what would she do now?
And how would I respond?
It wasn't a question I wanted to answer by myself, but I couldn't think of anyone else to ask. Thayer was busy keeping Tristan alive. Beck was probably riding off far away from me, cursing my name. There was no one else who would listen to my plight and understand.
No one but the dead.
I shivered violently underneath my cloak, pulling it tighter around me. It did little good. The chill in the tombs underneath the castle were unlike the biting cold outside. They were soft, and snuck into your clothes slowly, until you couldn't shake them off. I had even dressed for the occasion, putting on the thickest dress I had and fitting gloves over my hands as well. But it did little to keep the cold at bay.
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I licked my chapped lips nervously, keeping my eyes on one grave and one grave only. I didn't know any of the others, they were strangers. I was an imposter to them. But to Frewin, I hoped, I was a welcome friend.
Reaching over, I brushed dust off of his stone coffin with my gloved hand. My fingertips lingered a bit, until I couldn't bring myself to part with the chilled stone. I sighed, swallowing back the tightness in my throat.
