Darkest Mercy (Wicked Lovely 5)

“I disagree,” Cwenhild said, “but I will do as you order.”

As Donia pushed through the fight, she saw Keenan near the door of the warehouse. He hadn’t yet reached Bananach, but he was obviously tryin

g. Frost and frozen flecks of blood clung to his skin like a dusting of silver and crimson glitter.

“What are you doing?” she muttered. Keenan wasn’t a king anymore; he couldn’t stand against Bananach if she was a regent in truth. Only regents or equally powerful faeries could kill regents, and Keenan had surrendered most of his power.

The Winter Queen had swords of ice in both hands, and when that wasn’t enough of an offensive, she exhaled and encased faeries in sheets of ice. While she had been queen less than two years, she’d wielded Winter as the Winter Girl for almost a century.

Donia battled her way to Keenan, and then fought

side by side with him. As she speared the chest of a thistle-

fey, she told Keenan, “You waited for me. How sweet

of you.”

“I am a gentleman sometimes.” The glee in Keenan’s eyes reminded her that while he had never been as adept at fighting as he was at seduction, he was still far more experienced at fighting than either she or Aislinn were.

We can do this.

Donia turned so that she was back-to-back with Keenan; she erected a wall of ice in the path of the faeries who advanced toward them, effectively dividing the fight. All those who would come up behind them were now locked out. Her faeries, along with the dark and summer fey, would deal with the mutinous lot outside the warehouse. The Hounds, the rowan, and the Dark Court fey inside would stand against the faeries left on this side of her barrier.

She turned back to face Keenan, and for a brief moment, they were alone with a wall of ice behind them, and the chaos of violence in front of them. “Where’s Niall?”

“Somewhere in there.” Keenan motioned with a lift of his chin toward the warehouse. “He’s a bit more determined.”

“Nothing to do with his skills,” Donia teased.

“Maybe a little, but”—Keenan gave her a look that was every bit the wicked faery she’d woken up next to—“I’m sticking to the ‘waiting for you’ answer.”

“You sure you want to do this?” Donia glanced his way.

The impishness in his eyes was replaced by resolve. “Ash and Niall are in there. Bananach already killed Evan, Gabriel, Irial, possibly Seth if he was still in his cage. . . .”

“Seth was caged here?” Donia looked toward the melee. “Does Ash know?”

Keenan shook his head. “That’s not something I’ll be telling Ash either. It’s not my business now.”

The ease with which Keenan had slipped into non–

Summer Court gave Donia a brief pause, but the truth was that Keenan was a faery, had only ever been a faery. His loyalty was to court first, and right now, he’d offered that loyalty to Niall—and to her. Just like that. He is a subject . . . to protect. Carefully, she suggested, “You could stay out here—”

“Don?” Keenan’s glare was withering. “I’m not a king anymore, but I’m far from defenseless. Plus, I have plans for a future now . . . one that requires peace.”

He stepped into the warehouse.

She wanted to be angry, but if he hadn’t been the sort of faery who’d stood against impossible odds repeatedly, they’d never be where they were. She’d not be a faery; he’d not have found Aislinn.

And we wouldn’t be together now.

But she was a regent, and he wasn’t. She stepped around him. “If you get killed, I’m going to be furious.”

“I love you too. Come on.”

Together they started to force their way through the fight. The Winter inside his skin wasn’t as strong as hers, but he slammed what he had into a faery who came at him with a mace. Donia loathed the necessity of what they were doing, but the sight of two dead Hounds, dead rowan, and more dark fey than she wanted to count strengthened her resolve.

As they got closer, Donia spotted Niall and Bananach