Darkest Mercy (Wicked Lovely 5)

She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Seth. The rightness of being in his arms hadn’t ever stopped. For a moment, she rested her cheek against his chest; then she looked up at him.

Before he could speak, she pulled his mouth to hers. Now that he was fey—and seemingly stronger than he realized—she didn’t worry about injuring him with her affection. Before, she had to be careful not to break him. Now, the risks of a faery loving a mortal were erased. Barring fatal injury, he’d live for centuries. She leaned into him, gave herself over to the thrill of his kiss. It wasn’t a trick or faery enchantment. It wasn’t for power. It was just them.

And I don’t want it to ever end.

When he started to pull away, she tangled her fingers in his hair. “Don’t stop. Please?”

“Ash? Hey? It’s okay,” he whispered in the fraction of space between them.

She felt his words against her lips.

He repeated, “I’m okay. I’m here.”

She didn’t step away. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I’m here.” He smiled. “Right here with you.”

“You’ll leave again, though.” Aislinn tightened her arms around him. “War is fighting with Niall’s fey. Your . . . mother would come unglued if . . .” Her words dwindled at the look on his face. “What?”

“She had a bit of a, umm, grief thing over my absence.” Uncharacteristically, he blushed. “She’s new to the whole emotion thing . . . and . . .”

“And?”

“She almost destroyed Faerie.” He bit his lip ring as he watched her face for a reaction.

Without meaning to, Aislinn laughed. In light of all the threats looming outside the door, of all that they stood to lose, the sheepish look on Seth’s face was too much.

“She almost destroyed Faerie because she missed you?” Aislinn asked. When he nodded, she added, “Bit different than Linda, huh?”

“Just a bit. I’m still not sure where Mom is, but”—he shrugged—“they’re just different.”

“Oldest faery and mortal mother with wanderlust?” Aislinn giggled.

Seth tried to look serious for a second, and then he laughed too. They stood there for a moment, and the laughter fled.

He kissed her softly and then said, “I never imagined how much life would change or how quickly.”

She held his gaze. “Do you ever wish . . . I mean, if you and I hadn’t . . . If I hadn’t told you about faeries that day . . .”

“I love you.” He looked directly at her. “You are the single most amazing person, faery, woman in this world or the other. Because of you, I am a part of this strange new world, have a second mother, and . . . eternity. I have almost everything I could want.”

“Almost everything,” she repeated.

“Ash? That wasn’t pressure. You know what I want from you. Until he’s back and you’re sure you’re able to refuse him, I’m not going to cross that line. He’s your king, and you can’t promise either of us that the temptation to strengthen your court by being . . . with him is over.” A look of regret crossed Seth’s face, and then he added, “He’ll be back, Ash. Equinox is coming, and there is no way that the Summer King won’t be here for the start of his season.”

“I thought he’d be back at Solstice for Donia,” Aislinn said, and then, before Seth could reply, she added, “I don’t want to talk about him. Actually, I don’t want to talk at all.”

“Ash,” Seth started.

“Just for a minute, can we leave all the things out there”—she looked toward the door he’d entered only moments before—“alone? Can we be just us?”

A look of hesitation crossed his face, but he didn’t push her away.

“Just kiss me, Seth. Please?” she urged. “Later. Tomorrow. We can tell each other all of the things that are going to cause stress. Can’t we just let it alone and . . . be? I need you.”

He swept her legs from under her and lifted her into his arms. She wound her arms around his neck. Silently, he walked over to the sofa behind her and sat. She was sideways on his lap now; her arms were still looped around his neck.

“You could stay here in my arms,” she invited.