Fragile Eternity (Wicked Lovely 3)

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips.

“You too.” Seth promised. Always.

She nestled into his arms with a little sigh. She wasn’t a queen, wasn’t a faery, wasn’t anyone but his Aislinn then.

“You okay?”

“I am now.”

Not a minute later, though, she tensed. Although Aislinn couldn’t see Keenan, she obviously knew that he stood behind her. Whatever connection they had was growing stronger, and it wasn’t making life any easier.

For his part, Keenan’s expression hinted at confusions he wouldn’t voice. Aislinn’s residual humanity, her ability to switch from ruler to just a girl, seemed to baffle Keenan. Seth had watched him try to make sense of Aislinn’s refusal to distance herself from the human world. It was a strength: the people she saw benefiting from her dedication to rebuilding Summer’s strength inspired her to do more. But it was also a weakness: time with mortals reminded her of the unpleasant differences between mortal and fey and kept her aloof from her faeries. That distance was the source of a rift in the court, a vulnerability that caused more than a little rumbling.

Added to that were tensions from Aislinn’s refusal to be a “proper queen” and Keenan’s ongoing relationship with Donia; the court was stronger, but it was not healed.

Seth knew it would change with time—especially as the mortals Aislinn loved aged and died—but Keenan was openly dissatisfied by any weaknesses that could endanger Aislinn. The strengthening faeries’ frustrations with their monarchs’ choices made Keenan worry about what would happen as those faeries grew bolder. That worry for Aislinn was one of the few things that Seth appreciated about the Summer King. Keenan did treasure Aislinn. He wanted to keep her safe and happy.

He also wants to keep her to himself.

“You ought to step away, Keenan. I see what you’re doing. I’ve watched you play these games for centuries.” Niall’s voice was suddenly smoke and shadows. “Try thinking about what others need for a change.”

“I don’t believe what I do now is any of your business.” Keenan maneuvered so that he was farther from Aislinn and facing Niall. In doing so, the Summer King had put his back to the brick wall—assuring that no one could come up behind him.

“If you hurt Seth”—Niall shot a smile at Seth—“it will be.”

“He isn’t of your court.”

Derision dripping from his voice, the Dark King said, “Only an ass would think that matters. Leslie is lost to me. Your queen’s friend, and you let her be corrupted—”

“By the Dark Court, your court, Niall.” Keenan glanced at Aislinn, at Seth, at the various mortals in the room. In the dim alcove where they stood, the conflict wasn’t attracting any attention yet.

“It is my court, and with all I’ve learned from the two twisted kings I’ve loved and lived for, it won’t ever bow to yours. Don’t try me, Keenan.” Niall stalked toward Keenan, closing the distance, menace clinging to his skin. “Hurt Seth and you will answer to me.”

Keenan didn’t speak.

“Tell me you hold no ill will toward him, Keenan.” Niall’s voice had dropped to a low growl that Seth hadn’t known resided in his friend. Beside the Dark King, the abyss maidens took form and swayed; their bodies were tongues of black flame, twisting and undulating. Seth knew they were capable of devastation if let loose, but he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. In a part of himself he tried to keep hidden, there was rage at Keenan and excitement at the thought that Niall would slap Keenan down. Which isn’t cool. Seth kept those urges in check these days. He’d worked hard at becoming the person he was now. He didn’t indulge in fights or one-night stands; he didn’t get stupidly drunk or set out to try things just because they were forbidden. He was calm—even when it wasn’t his instinctual reaction.

“Niall?” Seth let go of Aislinn and stepped around the abyss dancers. “Chill.”

“He doesn’t speak, does he, Seth?” Niall had curled his hands into fists.

“I know where I stand.” Seth knew Keenan had mixed feelings. He hadn’t acted to injure Seth, but it would be a surprise if he hadn’t considered it. At length. Probably with Tavish advising him on the risks. Seth wasn’t going there, though; it didn’t help things. “I don’t need to hear his answer.”

“Ash does.” Niall’s posture was still, but shadows rippled out from him onto the brick wall behind Keenan. The black bars could solidify into a cage. “Back away, Seth. Please.”

Seth moved farther from the small space where the two kings stood glaring at each other. After seeing the conflict with the raven-faery, Seth was aware that standing between these two was a bad idea. Mortals are too fragile. The thought disgusted him, but it was true. I am too easily broken by them. By all of them.

“Keenan wouldn’t hurt Seth,” Aislinn murmured. She came over and took Seth’s hand. “I wouldn’t forgive that, and he knows it.”

Niall spared her a censorious glance. “Really?”

Sunbeams flickered around her as she became irritated with Niall. “Yes, really.”

They all paused at a commotion in the doorway. Summer Court guards were attempting to refuse entrance to a group of heavily decorated faeries. It didn’t work. Gabriel, the Hound who was the left hand of the Dark Court, sauntered in. With him were six other Hounds—including Chela, Gabriel’s rough and strangely sweet mate—and Gabriel’s half-mortal daughter Ani. The tread of Gabriel’s feet reverberated through the floor. The wave of fear the Hounds brought in their wake rippled across the room.

And Seth was once more grateful for the anti-glamour charm Niall had given him. He might be breakable, but he was not susceptible to the Hounds’ fear, to any of their glamours. Donia had given him the Sight, but that only allowed him to See them. Niall gave him protection from the way they could toy with his emotions.

“Gabe,” Seth said, not sure if the Hounds’ arrival was good news or not. They weren’t known for counseling caution or calm. “Good to see you…I think.”