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Bad Apple
Ratings:
71 pages1 hour
Summary
Snow White has always been just that, white as snow. Pure. She's lead a domestic life in the shadow of her outspoken and voluptuous sister, Rose Red. With Rose now marrying Prince Marcus, Snow fears she'll be left with an empty heart and empty cottage.
One night, Snow gives in to her desires, but is caught by Marcus' brother, Prince Darien, as he witnesses her indiscretion. And together they tap into a part of Snow long buried.
But Queen Miriam, once betrayed by Snow's mother, sees the same thing happening again—this time with her son, Darien. She refuses to let her throne be taken from her a second time and sets out to kill Snow White. Darien must believe in the power of true love's kiss or lose his kingdom, and Snow, forever.
Publisher: Evernight PublishingReleased: Mar 30, 2015ISBN: 9781772332964Format: book
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Bad Apple - Wren Michaels
2015
Chapter One
Frost bites the velvet rose petals lining my path into the castle. Overcast skies blur the horizon into the mountains of snow. My sister insisted on an outdoor ceremony, even though the heart of winter settles upon us. Rose's thought process often defies any form of logic. At least she came to her senses and agreed to have the reception inside.
The kingdom, once torn apart under the siege of dark magick, now rejoices at the return of its crown prince. Rose stands at his side, the one who freed him from his bear form; the nightmare that ripped years from his life and tore him from his family. Rose Red and Marcus found their happily ever-after.
I follow the long satin train trimmed in crimson dragging behind her, contrasting the freshly fallen snow. Ginger curls drape her back beneath a lace veil. Marcus sweeps her off her feet and carries her across the threshold of the castle.
A blush heats my cheeks, and I avert my eyes as they share a newlywed kiss, expressing in actions what words can never say. I scurry to catch the frozen bouquet of calla lilies and roses that falls from her fingertips as she forgets the world around her, consumed by Marcus' kiss.
My heart longs for a love like that some day. One of fury and passion, strength and seduction. But I'm far from the woman Rose is. Where she is fire, I am water. She is bold and brazen. I am meek and humble. I will make a dutiful housewife. She will be Marcus' lover and mate.
As I leave the bitters of the winter winds behind me, a heated breath dances along my neck. You look stunning this eve, Snow,
a rich, husky voice whispers along my ear.
A shiver dances its way up my spine. His handsome scent of leather and sandalwood hits my nose before I turn around. Marcus' brother, Darien.
Words choke at the back of my throat, and I force them over my lips. Thank you, Prince Darien.
He slides around me with the grace of a dancer, grabbing hold of the hand not clinging to my sister's forgotten flowers. With a flourish, he brings the back of it flush to his mouth, brushing warm lips against my chilled skin. The heat blossoming in my belly races to my cheeks, warming away the remnants of the cold.
Might I have the pleasure of escorting you to the dining hall?
Slipping his arm along mine, he doesn't wait for my response.
"It would be my pleasure and honor, your highness." I drop to a curtsy, but mid-bend Darien pulls me back to a stance.
Please, Snow, just call me Darien. We've known each other for months. And now we're officially in-laws. I think we can skip the formalities from here on out.
A dash of intrigue sparkles through his bright-blue eyes.
Well, Darien, thankfully you've come to my rescue. I still find myself getting lost in your castle.
He grips tight to my arm.
Fire torches line the halls, throwing a smattering of light along our path. While the stone walls block the cold night winds, the crisp winter air still falls through the cracks. A shudder rips through my limbs.
You're shivering.
He rushes to warm my arms, running his large hands along the thin sleeves of my dress. Let's get you near the fire and warmed up. Some food and drink will do the trick.
His touch not only heats my arms, but my heart, and it hammers like a hummingbird against my ribs. I've often thought of Darien since the day Rose brought him to our manor when he sought his long lost brother Marcus. But he is a prince, and I'm nothing but a commoner. The fact that he speaks to me is a formality on the part of Rose marrying his brother.
He guides me to the marbled archway of the great hall. Warmth from the roaring fireplace along with the scent of roast and ale greet us. Tapestries and portraits of royalty-past line the walls, watching us as we feast.
I try to hide my wandering stare, but it falls upon the loving gazes Rose and Marcus share between each other. Love and lust swirl in their eyes as if they cannot wait for the feast to be done, and their clothing shed. I dart my gaze back to my plate, as if I'm intruding on something sacred.
I sneak a glance at Darien, and his eyes lock on mine. A tender smile pulls at his lips and he tosses me a wink. Flutters ransack my belly, and my fingers fumble around my chalice as I drown my unease with wine. By the time dinner is cleared I'm unable to tell if it's Darien making my head spin or the spirits.
Music fills the space in the hall in between the snap and crackles from the fire, and the chatter of new guests flooding into the room. With slow steps, I keep to the outer wall, eyeing Rose and Marcus as they dance—a perfect facade to hide their roaming hands. I stifle a laugh, intrigued by their eagerness and amused by their lack of shame.
A warm hand slides along my waist and spins me around. Dizziness attacks my head, and I fight the whirl of nausea in my belly.
May I have this dance?
Darien asks. Before I can answer, he sweeps me into his arms and whisks me across the floor.
A hiccup escapes my lips carried on the wings of a giggle.
Why, Snow, has the wine gotten to you already?
he asks with a
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