Enthralled: Paranormal Diversions (Wicked Lovely 5.50)
He’d sacrificed immortality and strength for her. In part, he’d sacrificed his court for her. Now, he wanted to risk the brief human life he still had. For me. She knew there were plenty of dangers if he remained human: he was vulnerable to threats from any faery that crossed their path—and Keenan had nine centuries of living during which he had made enemies; he was susceptible to human diseases, aging, and any number of threats; and he was in danger from her. The Winter that she carried in her skin could easily kill him if she lost her temper or lost control in a moment of joy.
But he’s alive.
Trying to become fey could take away the few human years he had.
Or give us eternity.
“You’re awfully far away,” he said.
She realized she’d been staring, but she wasn’t embarrassed as she had been for most of the years she’d known him: he was hers now. She could stare all she wanted, so she did. “I was thinking about how beautiful you are.”
He smiled. “Can you think that nearer to me?”
“Not if I want to have dinner.” She walked toward him even as she said it.
“Do you?”
“Not now,” she murmured as she slipped into his arms.
Later, when Keenan came out of the shower, he was greeted by the sight of the Winter Queen standing on the balcony looking out over the not-yet-snowy mountainside. She could’ve been carved of the ice that was her domain.
Beautiful.
He walked over to stand beside her. Unlike her, he was not as comfortable with the chill. To the Winter Queen, it was more comfortable to be cold, but he was mortal now. He shivered.
Silently, Donia drew the cold into herself, pulling the bite from the air with only a moment’s effort.
“No.” He went to the bed and pulled the heavy quilt from it. After wrapping it snugly around himself, he returned to her side. “I’m fine.”
When she didn’t release the cold back into the air, he repeated, “I’m fine, Donia. In fact . . .” He bent to the floor, opened his bag, pulled out thick socks, boots, several warming layers, a heavy coat, mittens, a scarf, and a hat. As she watched, he dressed, and once he was completely bundled up, he caught her gaze. “I’m going for a walk.”
“But . . . I don’t have all of that.” She pointed at his winter-weather clothing. “I didn’t know you had all of that.”
“You’re a faery,” he said gently. “Unless you choose otherwise, the only one here who will see you walking with me is me. You don’t need all of these layers.”
He held out his hand.
She looked down at the thin nightdress she wore.
His hand stayed outstretched to her. “Walk with me. The cold is pressuring you, so we’ll walk a little ways.”
“We’re in higher elevations, and I didn’t think about the temperature here and—”
“Walk with me,” he interrupted. “I’m already dressed, so you might as well give in before I overheat.”
She winced at his words; her reaction to his loss of Summer and his loss of immortality was still as sharp as it had been the day he woke up human. Keenan stepped closer to her and took her hand.
“Donia?” He waited until she met his gaze. “I’m happy. If I’m human or if we find a way to return me to being fey, I’m happier now than I’ve ever been in nine centuries. The only sadness in my life is that you worry over things you don’t need to . . . so stop.”
Donia half hid a small sob. “I thought about going out later while you slept, but I didn’t want you to worry so I thought about telling you I was going but—”
He kissed her, swallowing her frosty breath, pulling her ice-cold body against his heavily clothed one, and silently cursing those layers. He’d happily freeze to death rather than be separated from her skin.
Which is exactly why she worries.
With that sobering thought, he pulled back. “I can be careful.” He cupped her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. “I grew up in a home of ice with Summer inside of me. That’s not so different from living with Winter as a human. I’ve been trained for this. I can do this.”
Then he stepped back, held his hand out, and asked in an even voice, “Would you like to take a walk with me?”