“Nothing.” Ash’s voice was cold, but I caught the faintest tremor below the surface. Rowan apparently did as well, for his eyebrows shot up and he gaped at his brother, before throwing back his head with a wild laugh.
“I can’t believe it,” Rowan gasped, staring at Ash in disbelief. “You’re in love with the Summer whelp!” He paused and, when Ash didn’t deny it, collapsed into shrieking laughter again. “Oh, this is rich. This is too perfect. I thought the half-breed was a fool, pining for the unattainable Ice prince, but it seems I was wrong. Ash, you’ve been holding out on us.”
Ash trembled, but he didn’t release my hand. “I’m taking her back to Arcadia. Get out of our way, Rowan.”
Rowan sobered immediately. “Oh, I don’t think so, little brother.” He smiled, but it was a cruel thing, sharp as the edge of a blade. “When Mab finds out, you’ll both be decorating the courtyard. If she’s feeling merciful, maybe she’ll freeze you two together. That would be tragically fitting, don’t you think?”
I shuddered. The thought of returning to that cold, airless, living death was too much. I couldn’t do it; I’d rather die first. And the thought of Ash having to endure it with me for hundreds of years was even more horrifying. I squeezed Ash’s hand and pressed my face into his shoulder, glaring at Rowan for all I was worth.
“Of course,” Rowan went on, scratching the side of his face, “you could always beg forgiveness, drag the half-breed to the queen, and still be in Mab’s favor. In fact,”
he continued, snapping his fingers, “if you go to Mab right now and turn over the princess, I’ll even keep my mouth shut about what I saw here. She won’t hear a peep out of me, I swear.”
Ash went rock still; I could feel muscles coiling beneath his skin, the tension lining his back.
“Come on, little brother.” Rowan leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms. “You know it’s for the best. There are only two choices here. Hand over the princess, or die with her.”
Ash finally moved, as if coming out of a trance. “No,” he whispered, and I heard the pain in his voice as he came to some terrible decision. “There is one more.”
Releasing my hand, he took one deliberate step forward and drew his sword. Rowan’s eyebrows shot up as Ash pointed his blade at him, a cold mist writhing along its edge. For a moment, there was absolute silence.
“Get out of the way, Rowan,” Ash growled. “Move, or I’ll kill you.”
Rowan’s face changed. In one instant, it went from arrogant, condescending and evilly smug, to something completely alien and terrifying. He pushed himself from the archway, his eyes gleaming with predatory hunger, and slowly drew his sword. It sent a raspy shiver echoing across the hall as it came into view, the blade thin and serrated like the edge of a shark’s tooth.
“You sure about this, little brother?” Rowan crooned, flourishing his weapon as he stepped up to meet Ash. “Will you betray everything—your court, your queen, your own blood—for her? You can’t change your mind once you start down this path.”
“Meghan,” Ash said, his voice so soft I nearly lost it. “Get back. Don’t try to help me.”
“Ash…” I wanted to say something. I knew I should stop this, this fight between brothers, but at the same time I knew Rowan would never let us go. Ash knew it, too, and I could see the reluctance in his eyes as he steeled himself for battle. He didn’t want to fight his brother, but he would…for me.
They faced each other across the icy room, two statues each waiting for the other to make the first move. Ash had taken a battle stance, his sword out in front of him, his expression reluctant but unwavering. Rowan held his blade casually at his side, tip pointing toward the floor, smirking at his opponent. Neither of them seemed to breathe. Then Rowan grinned, a predator baring his fangs. “All right, then,” he muttered, sweeping up his blade in a blindingly quick move. “I think I’m going to enjoy this.”
He lunged at Ash, his sword a jagged blur through the air. Ash brought his weapon up, and icy sparks flew as the blades screeched against each other. Snarling, Rowan cut viciously at his brother, advancing with a series of savage head strikes. Ash blocked, ducked, and suddenly lunged, stabbing at Rowan’s throat. But Rowan spun gracefully aside, his sword licking out and back again. Ash whirled with inhuman speed, and would’ve cut him in two if the older prince hadn’t leaped back.
Smiling, Rowan raised his weapon, and I gasped. The gleaming point was smeared with crimson. “First blood to me, little brother,” he taunted, as a trickle of red began to drip from Ash’s sword arm, speckling the floor. “There’s still time to stop this. Turn over the princess and beg for Mab’s mercy. And mine.”
“You have no mercy, Rowan,” Ash growled, and lunged at him again. This time, they both moved so quickly, twisting, jumping, spinning aside and slashing with their blades, it was hard to see it as anything but a beautifully timed dance. In fast-forward. Sparks flew, and the sound of blades clashing echoed off the walls. Blood appeared on both swords, and red splattered the floor around the combatants, but I couldn’t see who had the advantage.
Rowan suddenly knocked Ash’s blade aside, then thrust out his hand, sending a jagged spear of ice at his brother’s face. Ash threw himself backward to avoid it, hitting the floor and rolling to his knees. As Rowan brought his sword down at his kneeling opponent and I screamed in fear, Ash ducked aside, letting the blade miss him by centimeters. Grabbing Rowan’s arm, letting his brother’s momentum carry him forward, Ash spun and threw him to the floor. Rowan’s head struck the ice, and I heard the breath leave his body in a startled whoof. Quick as a snake, Rowan flipped over, sword in hand, but by that time, Ash had his blade at his throat.