“And the cost?” She was afraid. She was a faery—and apparently he was too, now—but faery bargains weren’t renowned for their fairness.
“A month with Sorcha every year.”
“You were gone six months.”
“I was with her for a month. In Faerie.” He looked at her with a plea to understand, to agree that he didn’t make a mistake. “Niall told me she was the one who could make me this. No one else was willing to help. It was only thirty days for me. I didn’t know that it was longer for you.”
“So every year…” she prompted.
“I leave for what feels like a month to me and six months to you.”
“For the rest of your life.”
He nodded.
She tried to make sense of his being gone, of his being around for eternity. It didn’t make sense yet. He was hers, but at what price? Her heart raced as she thought about what he’d sacrificed. “And when you’re there, is it awful?”
“No. It’s almost perfect. The only thing that kept it from perfection was that you weren’t with me.” He looked enthralled as he spoke. “Faerie is incredible, and my only task is to create…and that’s it. I walk in the gardens. I think. I create. It’s amazing there.”
“And…Sorcha?”
The expression on his face was one of tenderness and of longing. “She’s perfection too. She is kind and gentle and wise and funny although she doesn’t admit it….”
“Oh.” Her stomach twisted. He found eternity, but he’d found a queen as well. Aislinn wanted to not feel jealous, but she’d be worried for months and he’d been off falling for another faery queen. “So when you’re there, you’re with—”
“No. It’s not like that at all.” He scowled. “She’s my queen, my patron, a muse. It’s like having a family, Ash. She’s the mother I never…not that Linda doesn’t love me…but Sorcha is…she’s perfect.”
They sat there silently for a while until she couldn’t stand it anymore. “So now what?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. We figure out how to make it okay?”
But it was very much not okay. He’d risked it all to find forever with her, and she’d had so little faith in what they shared that she’d fallen into Keenan’s arms.
It’s where she was headed already.
He looked at her and admitted to himself that maybe it wasn’t his mortality that had stood in the way, but someone else. As long as she was the Summer Queen, she’d be with Keenan. They’d have their revelry and their meetings and their late-night arguments.
And I just destined myself to watch them do this for decades, for centuries.
“Did you sleep with him?” He waited, needing to hear her say it, needing to know.
“I thought you were gone, and I didn’t want to love anyone else…and he’s my friend…and I care about him and—”
“So that’s a yes?” His heart sounded like it was thundering in his ears.
“No…He turned me down.” She looked like she was going to start weeping. “I just wanted to stop hurting. I felt empty, and the court was weakening from my…wallowing.”
“I love you.” He pulled her to him and kissed her the way he had dreamed of when they were apart. She didn’t resist at all. It was almost like it had been before, but how it was before wasn’t good enough anymore. He’d been patient. He’d been willing to not feel jealous of Keenan because he’d believed that Keenan would be around to love her after he had died.
With effort, he stopped kissing her. “I don’t want to share you with him. Not anymore. I’m not going to die. I’m not going to be so easily broken now. And I’m not going to watch him look at you the same way I do.”
“I can’t walk away from my court.”
“Or him.” Seth could see the threads of possibility. There were paths that twisted and looped. There were possibilities he couldn’t see, which meant that he was in them. In others, though, she was with Keenan.
“He’s my king,” she whispered.
“I know that, but…‘king’ isn’t beloved or lover. It can be, but it doesn’t have to be.” Seth stopped short of telling her what he could see. Now wasn’t the time. “I need to know that he’s not the one you want.”
“I love you,” she said.
“Tell me you don’t feel any love like this”—he brushed his lips across hers—“with him. Tell me you can be around him and not feel like it’s romantic. If he’s your friend, that’s fine, but that isn’t all he is. It hasn’t been for months…long before I left.”
She stared at him, but no words came.
“I’m a faery too. I can’t lie. But I can tell you that there is no one else—faery or mortal—that’s shared my bed since I fell in love with you. I’ve not even considered taking anyone there. There’s no one in my life but you. I don’t want anyone else either. At all. Just you. Forever.”
“What am I to do?” she whispered.
“Start by seeing him for what he really is.”
“Which means?” Her voice rose, and her expression grew tense.
“He knew where I was, Ash.” Seth kept his tone gentle. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he wasn’t going to help Keenan hide his deceits. “Niall knew where to look. So did Keenan. He’s been around long enough to think to check in Faerie.”
“But he couldn’t. Maybe he—”
“Ask him.” Seth shrugged. “He knew where I was. Donia knew. Niall knew. Bananach took me there. Everyone knew. Ask your guards to tell you. Ask the Summer Girls. They might not volunteer it, but if you ask them straight out, they’ll answer you.”
“So you think they all knew”—she folded her arms over her chest, hugging herself—“and no one told me? How could they do that?”
“What would you have done if you had known where I was?”
“Come to Faerie and rescued you.”
“Your court isn’t strong enough for a war, and you were in the midst of summer, impulsive and passionate. If you’d come, it would have been a disaster—which is why Niall didn’t tell you. And Donia…I suspect she kept silent out of love for Keenan. She wouldn’t want to see his—your—court broken, even though he’s hurt her.” He caught Aislinn’s gaze. “But your court? Is that why Keenan didn’t tell you? Or did he have other reasons as well?”
“He saw me falling apart. My whole court did. They knew how much I hurt.” Aislinn wept. “He knew and…Why?”
Seth hated that he had to hurt her even more, but this was the issue she hadn’t dealt with. “Tell me you won’t forgive him. Tell me you aren’t trying to figure out right now how it was somehow not as awful as it sounds.”
Aislinn looked at him silently. Her face was tear-streaked.
“You forgave his manipulations over making you his queen. You forgave his manipulations that cost your court Niall’s support and almost killed Leslie. And right now, you’re trying to pretend he wasn’t manipulating you again.” Seth wanted her to interrupt him, to tell him he was wrong.
She didn’t.
“You trust him. I don’t know if it’s a queen and king thing or if you’re just trying to see the good in him. He’s not good, though. He’d have had me killed if he thought it served his purpose. I get that. Niall does. You need to see him for who he truly is. For me, for your court, and for yourself.”
“He’s my partner for the rest of eternity.”
“No, he’s a coworker. I’m your partner”—he kissed her forehead—“for eternity if you want me. If he’s your king, your friend, your coworker, that’s all fine. I don’t want to keep you to myself with no other people—or faeries—in your life, but I don’t want to share your heart, especially not with someone who keeps hurting you. If you want to be with him, tell me. If you want to be with me, tell me that. You need to figure out what you truly want, Ash. Come find me when you’re ready to tell me that I’m the only one.”
And he left. It ripped some part of him to pieces, but he wasn’t going to wait around hoping for scraps from Keenan
’s table.
CHAPTER 34
After Seth was gone from her, Sorcha stayed alone in his rooms. She wasn’t quite ready to deal with Devlin or court matters or much of anything. Truth be told, her only desire just then was to follow Seth and help smooth over whatever conflict he found when he went back to the Summer Queen. Aislinn might’ve been mortal once, but she was the epicenter of summer, a season of heat and frivolity. Sorcha knew Keenan well enough to know that the once-mortal queen would’ve succumbed to his charms.
“How very mawkish, sister.” Bananach came in through the garden door. Her shadowy wings were solid now. “Are you pining for your mortal pet?”
“He’s under your king’s protection. Not my pet and not mortal out there.” Sorcha didn’t deign to look at her sister. Now more than ever, the High Queen must appear Unchanged—but she felt the change. Despite War’s presence, Sorcha felt almost in control of her emotions for the first time in an eternity.
“Precious! All the more access to twist his thoughts then.” Bananach picked up one of Seth’s paintbrushes and sniffed it. “Shall I tell you what he’ll find upon his return? Shall I whisper to you of the ash-queen’s weeping and wailing?”
Sorcha tilted her head and gave Bananach a bland smile. Inside, her heart was aching. The Summer Queen was probably no better than any other Summer Court faery—such a tempestuous, fickle lot.
“Why would that matter to me?” she asked.
“Because she will blame you. Because Seth Morgan’s changing and returning has left Winter and Summer even more at odds. Because Darkness gnashes his teeth about the consequences of your actions, my dear sister.” Bananach crowed the words as she punctuated each statement with miniature sword strokes in the air, brandishing Seth’s paintbrush like a weapon.
“Niall knows where Seth was and why. I was honest with him—as I had been with the last Dark King.” Sorcha stood and stepped around her sister, leaving the close quarters and trying to draw her sister’s unpleasantness away from Seth’s room.
As Sorcha moved past, Bananach snapped her jaw like the animal she was—brutish and crude.
“I’ve no use for your games, Bananach.” The air in the garden was refreshing as Sorcha drew long breaths, letting her sister think she still needed space from her, feigning the discomfort she’d always had when War was in her presence. For the first time, the discordant ripples weren’t touching Sorcha. She still knew they were present, but she was inured to it.
Because I chose Seth to be my son. The touch of his mortality made her something new, not in balance with Bananach now. After all these centuries, I have changed.
The raven-faery wasn’t pleased. She gripped Sorcha’s arm. “Do you truly think I have no other pawns in play?”
“I am sure your machinations are vast.” Sorcha brushed her hands over a cluster of jasmine blossoms and leaned closer to inspect the leaves on a small hawthorn bush. “When you aren’t lost in bloodlust, you are formidable.”
Bananach cocked her head and made a small satisfied sound before saying, “I can be stalled, but Reason always slips, and I wait. And when you stumble, when the regents over there are not wise, I will have my blood.”
“Maybe.”
Bananach let out an ugly caw. “Always. In the end, I always get my blood. One day it will be yours I wear like rouge.”
Sorcha snapped a branch from a shrub, offering Bananach false proof that she’d become so unsettled that her temper slipped out. “Even in your deepest fits of madness, you won’t forget that we are bound. You don’t know what my death would mean for you any more than I do.”
“It will mean that I am free of your wearisome logic.” Bananach’s wings fluttered in an erratic beat.
“If you thought it so simple, I’d have been dead long ago.” Sorcha squeezed the branch under her hand until it cut into her palm. Then she dropped the splintered wood and held up her hand. “Your blood and mine have been the same since we have first existed. Unchanging. If we are the same and you kill me, will you die too?”
Bananach glared at her. She snapped her beak. “Perhaps I should find out,” she hissed, but she didn’t advance. She stood watching.
The garden was silent. No more words were spoken for several moments.
“War is patient, sister mine. You hide here with your dusty tomes and empty art. The Unchanging Queen. Tedious. Predictable. I will move the pawns…and you will make small choices that do nothing to stop the inevitable.” Bananach’s drums of war rose to a deafening volume that echoed through the whole of Faerie and into the mortal world. “They watch each other with mistrust. The fighting comes soon. I feel it. I’ll wait…and you will be as helpless as you always are when I am out there stirring trouble.”
“You’ll not have war this time,” Sorcha told her. It wasn’t a truth but an opinion.
“Why? Will you come after me, sister? Will you bring Faerie into the mortal world to hunt me?” Bananach crooned. Ravens that did not belong in Sorcha’s garden flocked down around Bananach; vermin crawled from the earth like a writhing gray carpet; and Bananach stood with her wings outstretched. War was coming unless something significant changed.
Sorcha remained silent.
“Come after me. Bring chaos to their world,” Bananach taunted. “Come protect your pet.”
“You will not touch him.” Sorcha stepped closer to her sister. “Summer and Darkness will strike you. I might not be able to stand against you, but I will send every faery I have to strike you. Come against him, and I will see you dead.”
“And if killing me means your death?” Bananach tilted her head curiously.
“So be it.” Sorcha kissed War on the forehead. “You’ve lost this battle, sister mine. There will be no war.”
Bananach paused. She stared into the distance, but didn’t share her visions of destruction. She smiled in horrific glee. “No, I’ve not lost yet.”
Then she strode away through the garden with her entourage, and in her wake were charred footsteps and bleeding flowers.
EPILOGUE
Seth walked into Niall’s home. Niall hadn’t ever wanted him to be there, but that was before. When I was mortal. Things had changed.
No one stopped Seth. He was a declared Friend of the Dark Court, welcome among them, protected by their last breaths if necessary.
“Brother,” Niall said as Seth approached the dais.
The throngs of Dark Court faeries watched openly. Seth saw threads of Ly Ergs and glaistigs woven together. Then the picture blurred. Bananach. My aunt. Seth couldn’t see her threads, but he felt her somewhere in the world.
“I need your help.” Seth didn’t bow, but he lowered his gaze respectfully. He was a faery now, and chosen brother or not, Niall was still king.
“Say the word. If it’s not against the good of my court”—Niall sat straighter in his throne—“I’ll always help you.”
Seth looked up and caught Niall’s gaze. “I’m the High Queen’s own. For eternity, I’ll spend a part of my life with her in Faerie. I’m the Summer Queen’s beloved. But it is your help I need now. Sorcha’s made me faery and given me gifts. I would do what’s best for her now.”
“Supporting the High Court’s need for order is not what’s best for the Dark Court,” Ani said from somewhere to his left. The half-Hound, half-mortal girl had dreams of chaos that her king and court restricted.
“Neither’s protecting the Summer Court’s pet,” grumbled one of the thistle-fey.
Protectively, Chela moved closer to Seth.
During the long pause, Seth stared only at Niall—whose threads were so myriad that that they might as well be invisible. The Dark King waited, hopeful in a way that he didn’t even realize. If Seth couldn’t see so truly, he’d believe that Niall’s raising his hand was a casual gesture. It wasn’t. It was both fearful and excited. “Tell me what you want.”
“To train with Gabriel’s Hounds. Sometimes setting things to order requires blood.” Seth let his gaze drift across
the assembled Dark Court fey and then back to their king. “I need to know how to defend myself and to wound others. I need to know how to hunt. Will you help me?”
“It would be an honor,” Niall said. “If the Hounds agree?”
Gabriel laughed. Chela smiled. Faeries grinned and nodded.
Seth did bow then. He saw the threads of possibilities all around him. As long as he didn’t tell them that it was Bananach he intended to hunt, he’d find much help here.
“Welcome home, brother.” Niall stepped forward and embraced him. “This change suits you well.”
It did. Seth had a purpose now. And a chance at eternity with Ash.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book would not have happened without the insights and passion of Anne Hoppe. Thank you for believing in my characters and for sharing the journey. These books are yours as much as they are mine.
Everything I have in my life—including writing—is possible because I was fortunate enough to find a partner who fills in my empty spaces. Loch, you give me the courage and the faith to try to do more than I thought I could. Thank you for being here with me through the travels, the weird hours, the odd questions, and the overall panic-and-glee roller coaster.
Part of writing is filling the well. My ever-patient son convinced me to journey to far reaches to hang out with puffins. My wise daughter reminded me to take nights off for Buffy marathons. For these and so many other reasons, you two remain the center of my universe.
My parents continue to offer support every step of the journey. I couldn’t do any of this without the wisdom and love you’ve given me over the years.
A few of the usual suspects were also invaluable during the past year plus. Jeaniene Frost continues to be steadfast in her role as critique partner and dear friend. Melissa Dittmar saved my sanity and organized my universe. Alison Donalty and Mark Tucker completely spoiled me with yet another fabulous cover. Patrice Michelle offered insightful remarks on the text. Mark Del Franco, Kelly Kincy, Vicki Pettersson, Rachael Morgan, Jason Falivene, Kerri Falivene, and Dean Lorey all shared sanity and words of wisdom. Friends like you are a treasure. Thank you, all.