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Автор C. L. Wilson

The Winter King

с- 1

C. L. Wilson

DEDICATION

For Christine Feehan.

For always being there for me,

and for being my BFF,

and for not letting me stop.

You are my sister of the heart.

And for my husband, Kevin Wilson,

who told me even when money was tight,

“To heck with a part-time job.

Do what you’re good at: write!”

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Special thanks to my editor, Tessa Woodward; my agent, Michelle Grajkowski; and the folks at Avon Books, for your understanding, encouragement, and unflagging support. You are great!

Finally, thanks again to Judy York, the cover artist who brought Wynter and Khamsin to life. You promised me no heaving bosoms, gasping mouths, or naked thighs, and you came through splendidly! You even made that sparkly tornado look good!

FOR MY READERS

Thank you so much for picking up this book! And a special thanks to everyone who sent me the wonderful letters of encouragement while I had to step away from writing for a while. Your support means the world to me.

PROLOGUE

Scarlet on Snow

King’s Keep

Vera Sola, Summerlea

“Do you have to go?” Seventeen-year-old Khamsin Coruscate clung to her beloved brother’s hand as if by her grip alone she could anchor him fast and keep him from leaving.

“You know I do.

Our treaties with the Winter King are very important. ”

“But you’ll be home soon?” Whenever he was gone, the ancient walls of the royal palace of Summerlea, which had been her home and her prison since birth, seemed somehow more confining, more restrictive.

“Not this time, little sister. ” Falcon shook his head. A strand of black hair that had pulled free of the queue at the back of his neck brushed against the soft, dark skin of his cheek. “It will take weeks to negotiate the treaties. ”

Khamsin scowled, and the wind began to gust, sending Kham’s habitually untamed hair whipping into her mouth and eyes. “Why does he have to send you? Why can’t his ambassador negotiate the treaty? He’s sending you away because of me, isn’t he? Because he doesn’t want you spending so much time with me. ” Her hands clenched into fists. The wind sent her skirts flying, and a dark cloud rolled across the sun.