Enthralled: Paranormal Diversions (Wicked Lovely 5.50)

I shrugged. “From my perspective, it’s more of a ‘Woo-hoo!’ kind of moment.”

“Are you gonna show her?” Emma breathed, and I could feel her staring at me. “Are you gonna show Nash?” Then, before I could answer, she gripped my arm. “You can’t tell them. You don’t know that this is really going to happen, just because some half-blind little girl drew it on a piece of paper.”

“She’s never been wrong, Em. Syrie is how I found Nash in the first place.”

“Fine. But you don’t know the context. This could be nothing—unless you make it into something.”

And that was just one of the options I’d considered. . . .

“Sabine, if you show this to Nash, I’ll tell him you nearly got me eaten by a harpy.”

“I’m not going to show him.” For now.

“Good. Then I guess I won’t dump this all over you.” She shifted onto one hip to dig in the opposite pocket, then held something out to me. “I found it on the stairs. It’s yours, right?”

I glanced at the vial of liquid envy cradled in her open palm and couldn’t resist a smile. “Thanks, Em,” I said, and she smiled back, like we might actually be friends someday. But we wouldn’t, because we lived in different worlds, and mine wasn’t as simple as black and white, truth and lie.

My version of the truth was that I wasn’t going to tell Nash— not yet, anyway. But that had nothing to do with her lame-ass threat and everything to do with not tipping my hand until the time was right.

I didn’t want to win the battle. I wanted to win the war.

Merely Mortal

by Melissa Marr

want this.” Keenan stared out at the expanse of snow that coated the lawn of the Winter Queen’s house. Our

house. Our home. Outside of her domain, it was still autumn, but within her immediate area, it was always winter. For most of his nine hundred years, that would have been debilitating to him. Now—because of Donia—he had rediscovered how perfect snow and ice could be.

The Winter Queen came to stand beside him. Without any of the doubts—maybe a twinge—that he’d felt with her for decades, he wrapped an arm around her waist. She was the reason for everything he had that was good in his life. During the past few months with her, he’d known a peace and happiness he hadn’t ever experienced. Even if he lived the rest of his life as a human, he was happier than he’d ever been in all of his years as a faery. All because of Donia. Unfortunately, the faery who had given him such bliss wasn’t as happy as he was.

“We could stay home,” Donia offered again.

“No. You asked what I wanted.” He turned to face her, studying her expression for some clue as to her mood, as he had been the past few weeks. Her worry over his new humanity had created an unpleasant tension in her, and all Keenan wanted was to erase her worries and fears, and prove to her that they would be happy whether or not he remained merely mortal. “I want to go away with you. Just us.”

“But—”

“Don, it’ll be fine.” He caught her hand and pulled her into his arms. “We’ve never taken a vacation. Ever. We’ll go away, spend some time together, talk, relax.”

She exhaled softly, her sigh of cold air muffled by his scarf, and then whispered, “It’s so near winter starting, though.”

“And last month it was too warm. I’m not objecting to being here at the house or on the grounds with you, but we have a few days between summer ending and winter beginning. It’s a perfect time to steal away. Let’s take time for us.” He leaned back and stared directly into her frost-laden eyes. “The world was nearly frozen for years, and even if things do stay warm a little longer, the mortals won’t object.”

Donia turned away, staring past him as if doing so would hide her worry.

Carefully, even though he couldn’t hurt her with his touch now, Keenan threaded his fingers through her hair until she looked at him again. “Come away with me. Please?”

“Maybe we should take a few guards. Cwenhild says—”

“Cwenhild worries because she saw you when you were . . . when you almost . . .” Keenan’s voice faltered at the memory of Donia’s recent brush with death. Nothing had ever terrified him as that injury had.

He kissed her with all of the intensity that the thought of that day brought to him. He’d almost lost her.

She was his reason for living; everything that he’d ever dreamed of, perfect in ways that he’d long believed made their relationship impossible. All he had to do now was convince her that whether he remained mortal or tried the admittedly risky routes to regain his faery nature, they would be happy.

He felt snow fall around them as she relaxed into the kiss. Big fluffy flakes formed in the air; the brush of each flake was a welcome sensation, proof that she was happy.

Then she leaned away.