Sleeping Beauty Page 2

  A few years older than Aurora, he’d been a character in the posh boarding school everyone with a drop of noble blood attended in Ferren, so she knew him, by reputation at least.

  She also knew his family had long since turned their backs on him, and while he had the money, he had no connections to use to wrestle out of his imprisonment.

  When she’d gone to visit him, he had been a far cry from the charming, charismatic boy she recalled. Ross seemed desperate to get out.

  “I have to go back. You don’t understand—he’ll hurt her eventually. He hurts everything he touches.”

  He’d barely been coherent, but Aurora had understood enough.

  “Hugo, we can help each other. If everything goes as planned, I’ll have a meeting in a couple of years, three maximum. I can get you out much sooner than your ten years.”

  He’d just nodded, darkly, both of his hands bundled in tight fists.

  “It’s Hook.”

  “Hmm?” she’d asked, confused.

  “You called me Hugo. My name, it’s Hook.”

  It had been; she recalled he’d been given that nickname because his left hook had been legendary, knocking out any adversary in one punch. They both knew it was gone now, replaced by his prosthesis.

  “Okay. Okay, Hook. Now, I’m not saying there’s zero danger, but honestly, we’ve done human trials and there has been no loss, no permanent damage. You should be as good as new. Some people said they dreamed, others said that they just closed their eyes and felt like they woke up immediately, although they were awakened days later. There are also those who say they caught words and glimpses of things happening around them. I can’t tell you what it will be like for sure; think of it as a sort of a coma. I’ll read to you. When you wake up, let me know if you remember it.”

  “Fairies,” he’d said.

  “Come again?”

  The man definitely had a few screws loose.

  “Read to me about fairies. Factual information. History, biology. Pixies, in particular. I want to know what makes them tick.”

  “I can’t guarantee you’ll hear anything I say, Hook.”

  “I will. Before you speak to me, just say ‘Tinks.’”

  She wondered if she should make a note or two about his psychological instabilities before the trial started.

  “Tinks,” she repeated.

  “Yep. Tinks should do the trick.”

  Chapter 3

  She could have awoken Hook a few days before and filmed it, but to nail it in the councilmen’s thick skulls that her process was absolutely perfect, she chose to give them a demonstration.

  She led them to her lab, facing away from the king and his daughter, toward Hugo Ross’s capsule. Edgar, Jenny, and Bastian, her colleagues, were already ready; they’d injected anticoagulant and prepared the plasma where she liked the subjects to rehabilitate. None of it was entirely necessary, but come on, the guy had been frozen for a long-ass time, he deserved a bit of TLC.

  Despite all her confidence, Aurora was trembling when she pressed the enter button of her keyboard and saw bluish lights flare up either side of the capsule, telltale signs of the program activating. This was it: her ultimate proof, the one thing that was going to determine whether Rupert Evermore was going to open his eyes by morning.

  If they gave their okay, she had no intention of adding any delays; everything was ready for a second subject.

  Come on, Hook.

  His skin progressively lost the greyish hue, but his eyes remained resolutely closed. Aurora found herself pacing from her desk to Hugo, observing charts first, then the subject himself. Nothing. Not a movement, not a single blip on the medical equipment attached to him.

  For the first time, she wondered what would happen if she failed. It wouldn’t be good. Not only would she most definitely lose any hope to ever reawaken the king in her lifetime, but she’d also earn herself a set of considerable enemies she didn’t need.

  She’d researched Hugo before coming up with an offer for him; he had a whole troupe of people who openly claimed their willingness to die for him. Dangerous people.

  Shit. Had she killed Captain Hook?

  Bip.

  The first noise coming from her computer resonated through the room like a fire alarm. Soon, it was followed by a few rhythmic, steady beats, getting stronger each minute.

  “The subject is at an adequate temperature,” Jenny said enthusiastically.

  The girl had never hidden her humongous crush on Hook, not that Aurora could blame her. She wasn’t the only workaholic half in love with a frozen subject.

  “Brain functions?”

  “Regular.”

  Yet the man’s eyes were still closed behind the translucent capsule protecting and preserving his body. The others had always opened them right away.

  “If you intend to stare at me all day, the least you could do would be to give me a shirt. I’m not a piece of meat, Stephenson.”

  The words were weak, but she’d never heard anything more comforting. He was okay. She sighed in relief as her heart restarted.

  “Your eyes?” she asked.

  “They hurt like a motherfucker.”

  Shit. That wasn’t part of the plan. What if they’d been damaged in the process?

  “Open it,” she ordered Bastian, who promptly obliged.

  Hugo Ross stumbled out, falling to a crouch. Then, slowly, he straightened his spine and stood in his all glory, completely unashamed. Not that there was anything to be remotely ashamed of; the man was built like a statue and had just about as much fat on him as a piece of marble. Biceps, triceps, lats, deltoids, pecs—every single one of his muscles was defined and delectable. She was pretty sure all the females, and some of the males, in the room licked their lips.

  “Damn, I feel like I’ve been trampled on by an angry horde of bulls.”

  “You’re doing very well,” she assured him.

  In fact, his performance was practically superhuman. No one had expected him to stand up by himself, hence the wheelchair next to his capsule. His speech was also incredibly good; the slurring was minimal, almost nonexistent.

  “We’ve got a plasma thermal bath ready with your name on it.”

  “I knew there was a reason I liked you, darling,” he said suavely.

  Gone was the disturbed, frightened, unstable man she’d met two years back. This Hook was the one everyone at school raved about, the one who had good girls wanting to be very bad.

  “My sentence is carried out.”

  It wasn’t a question, but she nodded and replied, “Yes. You’re a free man, Captain.”

  He breathed out in something akin to relief, slowly opening his deep brown eyes.

  “Can I borrow your phone?”

  Beaming as he effortlessly answered any question the Council could have come up with by displaying his perfect understanding of the world around him and his sound state of mind, she handed over her mobile.

  He looked at the date first, and then went directly to check social media. He didn’t bother to disconnect from her account, simply typing “Hook is back” as her status.

  Within seconds, there were more interactions than she’d ever received: comments full of hearts, fireworks, and encouraging messages.

  Aurora wondered what it was like; she’d never been loved like that, not even by one single person. His popularity was a foreign concept.

  “Okay, let’s go take this bath. My ship will be here within the hour.”

  In fact, his ship was there twenty-three minutes later.

  Aurora had been in plenty of boats, and the occasional plane too, but Hook’s vessel was something else altogether. It mostly looked like a sailboat, and she might have mistaken it for one if she’d seen it on the sea. Given the fact that it floated above firm ground in front of the royal palace, she was missing something.

  She didn’t get to say goodbye to Hook, unlike the rest of her team. There were more important things to do today. Reluctantly, she followe
d the councilmen back to the throne room, where she awaited their decision.

  Chapter 4

  Then

  “It’s been confirmed,” his advisor said darkly, obviously uncomfortable about discussing the matter.

  Warner Stephenson was nothing if not proper; speaking ill of either of his monarchs wasn’t an easy task.

  “The queen is….”

  As the word didn’t easily fall from his lips, Rupert gave the poor guy a helping hand and said it himself, “unfaithful. You can say it. I’m hardly surprised.”

  It wasn’t like he cared; Rupert had shared his wife’s bedroom once—one time too many as far as he was concerned. He couldn’t exactly blame the woman for seeing to her needs elsewhere. He certainly did. The issue was that Marina didn’t have the sense to be circumspect in her affairs. She flaunted her lover at court, something he couldn’t tolerate.

  “We’ll have to have words about discretion.” He sighed.

  Having words with his wife was as pleasing as pulling a tooth out.

  “But what if she is with child?” Stephenson pointed out, raising another point.

  He hadn’t thought of that, for surely the woman wasn’t that dumb, was she?

  Damn. She quite possibly might be.

  Now

  Aurora Stephenson considered herself a calm, reasonable person, but if the heavy, plush, off-white envelope in front of her was covering yet another wedding invitation, she was going to scream.

  “I may be mistaken, but I don’t believe that staring at a piece of paper will change its contents, dear,” said her ever annoyingly cheerful Aunt Fae.

  Aurora was entitled to a little bit of glaring and muttering, in her opinion.

  Twice. She had been engaged twice, and not once had she had the occasion to send letters of this sort. Yet since the end of her last engagement, she’d been invited to a good half dozen royal weddings.

  Why was everyone else getting hitched around her? It was all very inconsiderate.

  She finally cut the envelope open and groaned at its contents. Worse than a wedding, she was invited to a bloody christening. Lana and Chase Hunter hadn’t been married for a year yet, and they were already popping out their firstborn.

  Aurora huffed and puffed, knowing all too well that she would go; she’d instantly clicked with the she-wolf who ruled Ennom when they’d met. The woman hadn’t seemed to care that she didn’t dance, smile, or discuss shopping. She’d asked about her job and listened with a keen interest. Aurora might be mistaken, but with a little bit of effort, there was a chance that she might manage to cultivate a friendship. Possibly. Maybe. She wasn’t all that skilled in the art of socializing.

  That didn’t change the fact that yet another woman of her class was doing the whole husband-and-baby thing. She shouldn’t care; Aurora had her strengths, her career, her goals…

  But damn, she was twenty-seven now, and after two epically bad engagements, she was more than ready for a successful relationship. Going to work, busting her ass off, and being respected for it mattered; she just also wanted to go home and have someone to chat with about her day. Someone who’d pour her a glass of wine and rub her feet. Someone who cared.

  Especially after the horrible week she’d had.

  “I may be wrong, dear, but you do seem on edge.”

  That was one way of putting it. She’d been completely numb at first, but now, eight days after she’d heard the council’s verdict, anger had replaced the emptiness.

  They’d said no. They’d said that if Hugo had issues with his eyes after only two years, it was more than likely that the king would not come through unscathed using the process they’d perfected. Never mind that Hook’s eyes had gone back to their original state within less than an hour.

  To say that she was pissed off was an understatement, but there was nothing she could do about it, no one she could vent to.

  Of course, she could have opened her mouth and complained to her two aunts, but she knew how little they liked drama, politics, and everything attached to court. They’d just try to convince her to pack up and go live with them.

  It wasn’t an option. Aurora couldn’t fathom being away from court, away from her lab, from the king.

  “I heard about the decision of the Council,” Aunt Fae added, dropping all pretenses.

  Her mother’s sisters were free spirits, the kind of people who made their own jams and medicine. They despised court, although they’d both started to visit when Aurora had been born—sporadically, perhaps three times a year, and always when she’d needed them. They’d made a trip only a week earlier—their return days after Aurora received the devastating verdict was no coincidence.

  “I don’t know what to say, Aunt Fae. I gave them every proof, answered all their questions, and they said no. I’m tempted to go to the papers about this.”

  She grimaced as she said it; journalists were the bane of her existence. They’d followed her around since she’d been a little girl, always in her shadow. But dammit, she’d do it if she thought it might make a difference.

  “I have a question to ask you, puppet,” Aunt Petunia butted in. “I’ve had it in mind for quite a while, but you won’t like me for mentioning it. You’ve always played by the rules…”

  Aurora raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

  “What exactly stops you from reanimating our king right now?”

  Aurora stared at her youngest aunt, completely dumbfounded, as the middle-aged woman with pink and jet-black hair carried on, driving her point home.

  “Let’s say you revived the king without the Council’s authorization, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

  “It would be considered treason, Aunt Petunia. The Council says that reviving the king without the right technology is akin to murdering him. I would get banished, or worse.”

  “Fiddlesticks. Of course, it would be quite another matter if you didn’t have the right technology, but you do. They might try to invent some sort of punishment for you, of course, but guess what? The king will be around to veto it.”

  She bit her lips, appalled at the very prospect of doing something quite so unthinkable.

  Turning to the wiser of the two sisters, she expected her to argue against Petunia’s point, but Fae sighed and just said one thing she should have long accepted.

  “They’ll never authorize it, puppet. Not now, not in another hundred years.”

  Chapter 5

  She waited until everyone was out of the lab, not wanting any of her colleagues to suffer for her decision.

  Everyone worked harder, later than usual, motivated by the unexpected rebuff they’d received earlier that week, so it was well past eleven when she found herself alone.

  “Don’t stay up too late,” Jenny made her promise. “Everything will still be right here tomorrow.”

  No, it wouldn’t.

  Aunt Petunia was right; the councilmen—hell, even her father!—would want her skin for what she was about to do, but who cared? With the king there, they had no power.

  Now she just had to make sure that he made it through in one piece if she didn’t want to end her days behind bars. Her last name wouldn’t be of much weight after treason of this magnitude.

  No pressure.

  Aurora filled the tube of plasma and ensured it wasn’t too warm. Room temperature would seem scorching at first. While his system would soon adapt, the king wouldn’t be ready for a sauna for a day or two. She set it at a temperature that would have been appropriate for a sensitive baby, and added some aloe to make it as soothing as possible.

  She checked her supplies at least twice: a defibrillator, blood supply, towels, a robe, some pants, a shirt, a thermometer, anticoagulant gel, a drink next to a tablet full of vitamins. Various tubes connected to the machines checking on the king’s vitals were firmly in place.

  Everything was ready. All that was left was for her to press one key on her computer and then there would be no going back.

  Then


  Not every man in his shoes would have had the same reaction, he knew, but from the moment she was born, he loved the kid. His daughter. Well, his daughter as far as the world was aware of. Never mind that the kid had no features in common with him and that no Evermore blood ran through her veins. It didn’t matter. She called him Daddy and threw herself in his arms with an infinite trust. They’d claimed each other, and that was what had changed him into a father.

  “This woman’s greed knows no bounds,” Mal screeched on her way in, as she often did now. “She wasn’t content with your kingdom. She wants to poison mine now!”

  The accusation hurt, probably because it was true. Marina had poisoned his land, and in his quest for peace, he’d let her. She had no say in the ruling of the kingdom, but court was his domain, and for the sake of keeping appearances adequate, he’d let her do as she pleased there. Her games, her competitions, had progressively changed the people of Ferren. The poor were poorer yet, as the resources were depleted by their incessant festivities. The rich were constantly quarreling, begging for a flicker of the queen’s attention.

  Rupert had spent so much time away, seeing to his lands far from court, that he hadn’t seen it at first. Now that he knew, he had to do something to make his kingdom strong again.

  “What now?” He sighed.

  “Your wife has authorized a hunt. In my lands.”

  No, surely not. Marina couldn’t possibly be that stupid….

  He retracted his protest before it had even escaped his lips.

  “Tell me they killed nothing.”

  “A Pegasus foal, not even a few months old. I’ll have her heart on a stake for this, mark my words!”

  She meant it, and Rupert was quite tempted to tell her to have at it.

  “What’s this?” Maleficent asked, frowning in confusion.

  Rupert followed her gaze and broke into a humongous smile as he took in the little curly haired, rosy-cheeked princess hiding behind his throne.