Darkest Mercy (Wicked Lovely 5)

“Say yes,” she urged.

“I’m yours, Donia.” He leaned his forehead against her head. “You don’t need to offer anything you aren’t ready—”

“Are you serious?” She laughed. “I’ve waited most of my life for you.”

“You’re a queen. I’ll accept whatever you—”

She kissed him again, and then asked, “Do you want to live here?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t be a fool, Keenan. I want you here.”

“Once Niall is stable, and we know that Bananach won’t slip in at night and kill us in our beds . . .” He scowled. “I don’t know what we’re going to do about her.”

Donia interlaced her fingers with his. “You’re not a king. It’s not your duty now.”

“Oh.” He paused and then nodded. “I will fight . . . or what do you need?”

“You were going to go to Niall,” she reminded him. “Have you changed your mind?”

“No,” he said very carefully, “but I want to . . . I didn’t know Evan was gone, and I don’t want . . . Not that you can’t defend yourself, but . . .” He raked his hand through his hair.

Gently, Donia suggested, “You’re a solitary faery, Keenan. Not my subject. Not anyone’s subject. You can do as you will.”

He nodded.

“What are you going to do? What do you want to do?” she prompted.

“I’m going to go try to help Niall. He’s not acting like himself, and I have a theory on what’s wrong,” he told her. “Then afterward I’m going to ask you to marry me.”

She stepped backward, her knees strangely weak. “Faeries don’t . . . That’s not exactly done.”

“I’ve dreamed of it. The ceremony, the vow”—he stared at her with an intensity that made her sit down suddenly—“I thought about it a lot. Faery vows are unbreakable. If I phrased it right, you’d know that I belong to you. Only you. Always.”

She blinked several times, and as casually as she could manage, pinched her wrist. I am awake. Keenan is here in my home telling me he wants a faery vow and a wedding. This was the part where she was to say something encouraging; she was sure of that. Instead, she stared at him silently.

He knelt, like a mortal man, on one knee before her. “Faeries don’t make fidelity vows often, but we can. We can.”

“Yes.”

But he misunderstood and continued, “When I come back, I’ll get a ring. First, I am going to help Niall. Something is wrong with him, and I’m going to try to figure out how to get him back to himself.”

Too stunned by the utter unexpectedness of the morning, she nodded and repeated, “Yes.”

“We can do anything, Don. We’ll defeat Bananach, help Niall. . . . Everything is possible now. You make me believe in the impossible. You always have.” He stood and kissed her until she really wasn’t sure if she was awake or dreaming, and then he said, “I’ll be back. We’ll stop B

ananach, and then we’ll have forever.”

And he was gone before she could think clearly enough to explain that her yes was a Yes, I’ll marry you.

Chapter 32

This time, Keenan sought the Dark King at his house. It was a place he’d never thought to visit voluntarily, and he wasn’t sure that he would be able to gain entry. However, the Dark Court fey he’d seen had all suggested that Niall would be at the house. Of course, they’d also all suggested—with varying degrees of humor and fear—that Keenan had better be prepared to bleed if he was going to enter the Dark King’s house.

Keenan arrived as a thistle-fey was leaving, so he avoided the awkwardness of getting past the gargoyle at the door. Inside the house, the evidence of Niall’s rage was everywhere. Shattered glass and broken furniture were intermingled with twisted bits of metal. Dark stains made obvious that the damage wasn’t merely to the inanimate.

The former Summer King walked through the debris until he stood in the doorway of the room where Niall sat.