Cinderella Dreams of Fire (Fairy Tales Forever #1) Read Online Free
Author: Casey Lane
strikes found its mark so expertly, she could see the prince's eye begin to swell.
He continued to swagger as if he had the upper hand. “I truly am having a lot of fun."
"Are you sure that isn't the ale talking?"
"No, I'm not."
Cinderella smiled as Braedon came at her with a flurry of quick punches. She counted at least seven, and she feinted or ducked every single one. She came back with blows of her own, all of which connected with flesh and bone. As the prince started to lose his footing, she kicked him in the gut, sending his feet backward and his face to the floor.
He somehow groaned and laughed at the same time. “Best two out of three?"
She looked down to the front of the building, where the archers had assembled.
Cinderella admired the prince's stalling. She pulled his hair to get a look at his eyes. They were extremely blue and deeply inviting. She refused the invitation. “Don't follow me."
"Who are you?"
"Just a common thief.” She winked, and then took a running dash toward the edge of the roof and leapt away onto the next building.
Chapter 6
C inderella felt around in the dark of the creepy, old building where she'd spent so many of her midnights. Even though she'd passed so much time there that she could make it through most of the training area and the surrounding rooms by touch alone, she actually knew very little about the woman who'd pulled her out of the lowest point of her life.
Cinderella's fingers brushed one of the old practice dummies she'd spent years pounding upon. She felt the tattered stitches of the roughly woven face, remembering how often she'd pictured the inanimate opponent as her sister, as her stepmother, and as her father. She'd punched and punched until her knuckles were raw and bloody. On those nights, the Godmother had been the one to gently ease her hands away and into a bucket of ice.
Her hands could use the ice today after slamming so hard into the prince's bone and muscle. He was thicker than he looked, and one of the reasons she hated fighting drunks was that they needed an extra few punches to take them down.
This wasn't just any drunk, though. It was the Crown Prince of Loren, and he was standing between her and her mission.
Why'd you have me steal from the queen? What is this thing?
Cinderella's hand moved along the practice area and made contact with the weapon rack. She recalled the pride at mastering every one-handed, two-handed, and long-distance tool of war the Godmother possessed. Her late nights of training even included using random objects she might find along the way. She'd become so handy with a shovel, she sometimes preferred it to a halberd or mace.
Nowadays, she only practiced once or twice a week. The rest of the time was dedicated to missions that served some greater purpose.
Not that I'll ever know what that purpose is.
Her fingers traced along the wall just the right number of paces from the rack and found the lantern. As she illuminated the room, she was hardly surprised to see the stoic face of the Godmother staring right back at her. As usual, she seemed to materialize out of thin air.
The woman spoke as if she were holding something back. “Do you have it?"
Cinderella had never been able to determine her mentor's age. It was like she was preserved in the sweet spot of middle-age, and her face had barely acknowledged the passage of time in the decade they'd been training. Aside from a thin, gray line of hair down the side of her cheek, the woman seemed to have found the secret to defeat aging. It wouldn't be the only secret she'd kept from her protégé.
"Of course.” Cinderella stretched her achy fist as she pulled out the pouch. “I think at this point I know better than to come back without completing a mission."
She pulled the stone out of the bag and felt it in her hand. It was even warmer than it had seemed before. The lantern made the red gem glisten. It wasn't the prettiest item she'd obtained for the Godmother, but it
He continued to swagger as if he had the upper hand. “I truly am having a lot of fun."
"Are you sure that isn't the ale talking?"
"No, I'm not."
Cinderella smiled as Braedon came at her with a flurry of quick punches. She counted at least seven, and she feinted or ducked every single one. She came back with blows of her own, all of which connected with flesh and bone. As the prince started to lose his footing, she kicked him in the gut, sending his feet backward and his face to the floor.
He somehow groaned and laughed at the same time. “Best two out of three?"
She looked down to the front of the building, where the archers had assembled.
Cinderella admired the prince's stalling. She pulled his hair to get a look at his eyes. They were extremely blue and deeply inviting. She refused the invitation. “Don't follow me."
"Who are you?"
"Just a common thief.” She winked, and then took a running dash toward the edge of the roof and leapt away onto the next building.
Chapter 6
C inderella felt around in the dark of the creepy, old building where she'd spent so many of her midnights. Even though she'd passed so much time there that she could make it through most of the training area and the surrounding rooms by touch alone, she actually knew very little about the woman who'd pulled her out of the lowest point of her life.
Cinderella's fingers brushed one of the old practice dummies she'd spent years pounding upon. She felt the tattered stitches of the roughly woven face, remembering how often she'd pictured the inanimate opponent as her sister, as her stepmother, and as her father. She'd punched and punched until her knuckles were raw and bloody. On those nights, the Godmother had been the one to gently ease her hands away and into a bucket of ice.
Her hands could use the ice today after slamming so hard into the prince's bone and muscle. He was thicker than he looked, and one of the reasons she hated fighting drunks was that they needed an extra few punches to take them down.
This wasn't just any drunk, though. It was the Crown Prince of Loren, and he was standing between her and her mission.
Why'd you have me steal from the queen? What is this thing?
Cinderella's hand moved along the practice area and made contact with the weapon rack. She recalled the pride at mastering every one-handed, two-handed, and long-distance tool of war the Godmother possessed. Her late nights of training even included using random objects she might find along the way. She'd become so handy with a shovel, she sometimes preferred it to a halberd or mace.
Nowadays, she only practiced once or twice a week. The rest of the time was dedicated to missions that served some greater purpose.
Not that I'll ever know what that purpose is.
Her fingers traced along the wall just the right number of paces from the rack and found the lantern. As she illuminated the room, she was hardly surprised to see the stoic face of the Godmother staring right back at her. As usual, she seemed to materialize out of thin air.
The woman spoke as if she were holding something back. “Do you have it?"
Cinderella had never been able to determine her mentor's age. It was like she was preserved in the sweet spot of middle-age, and her face had barely acknowledged the passage of time in the decade they'd been training. Aside from a thin, gray line of hair down the side of her cheek, the woman seemed to have found the secret to defeat aging. It wouldn't be the only secret she'd kept from her protégé.
"Of course.” Cinderella stretched her achy fist as she pulled out the pouch. “I think at this point I know better than to come back without completing a mission."
She pulled the stone out of the bag and felt it in her hand. It was even warmer than it had seemed before. The lantern made the red gem glisten. It wasn't the prettiest item she'd obtained for the Godmother, but it
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