Wrapped in my white cloak, I followed Torin into the forest. But he wasn’t taking me toward the changeling cemetery, as usual. Instead, we walked on a winding path between the dark, snow-covered oaks.
“Do you really think I need more practice?” The air stung my lungs. “With everything else going on?”
“The fencing tournament is the night after tomorrow. I’m still worried, yes.” He glanced at me, his eyes bright in the darkness. “I’m not sure I should have brought you into Faerie.”
“Why?”
“Because you were safe in the human world, but you aren’t here. And now, it’s my responsibility to make sure nothing happens to you, but I don’t feel in control anymore. The forces of darkness are spreading here, along with the frost. It started with the boggarts spoiling the milk. Then I hear reports of dragons and the sluagh demons…the dark magic filling the void is taking over, and I suspect the princesses may feel that malign influence, making them more bloodthirsty.”
“Isn’t that why I’m here? To fix it all?”
“If you live. After the murder, I have no doubt the princesses will try to tear you to pieces in the tournament.”
Cold fingers of dread danced up my spine, but I tried to ignore them. “But you need a queen you can’t love, or the kingdom will die. So here I am. Torin, where are we going?”
Shadows seemed to cloak the king tonight, and I had the sense that something was weighing heavily on his mind. “To the old temple of Ostara. We’re going to practice there.”
“Why?”
“It’s none of your concern, changeling,” he said curtly. “Just focus on trying to stay alive. Tonight, when we practice, I’m going to be using magic. The princesses will do the same, and you need to be prepared for it.”
Apparently, Torin wasn’t in the mood for conversation tonight.
But as he led me to a towering temple made of stone, with arches that soared up to the stars, I was lost for words anyway. I wasn’t even thinking about the cold as I stared at the forlorn beauty of this place. We entered through an open archway into the old temple.
Snow covered the floor and dusted the stones. If medieval cathedrals were twice their actual size and left to fall to ruin in frozen lands for centuries, this is what they’d look like. Moonlight streamed in through open, peaked windows, and the decaying ceiling spread above us like the broken ribcage of a stone dragon. Statues adorned some of the alcoves, many of them of animals like hares and foxes. I felt the rush of magic pulsing off the stones, vibrating over my skin. Icicles hung all around, crystals gleaming with silver. Thorny plants climbed the walls, no longer flowering in the cold, but the effect was forbidding and stunning at the same time.
I had no idea why we’d come here, but I wasn’t complaining. It was a privilege to get a glimpse of this magical place.
“Are you ready?” Torin was already drawing his sword, not wasting any time.
Sighing, I pulled off my cloak and draped it over a half-ruined statue of a hare. I lifted my rapier, steadying myself on the icy ground.
I raised my sword, meeting his gaze. Sometimes, when he looked at me, the intensity of his stare sent a shiver over my skin. This was a man with so much power, I almost felt like I was seeing something forbidden when I looked at him directly.
“Wait.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pale crystal, one that gleamed like ice. “Keep this close to you. It will help you move swiftly when the other princesses are using magic. Take care not to let its power overwhelm you.”
He tossed it into the air, and I caught it in my palm. I didn’t have any pockets in my leather pants, so I shoved it into my bra.
When it touched my skin, darkness started to unfurl in my chest—a lust for blood. I felt my lip curl back from my teeth, and I ran my tongue over my canines. It must be the wild magic of the place, or the crystal itself—but I swear they felt sharp as a wolf’s. Around me, the moonlight seemed brighter, and the shadows grew thicker.
Maybe I was never meant for the human world. The wilderness was my home. “I’m not quite sure if you’re ready for me, Torin.”
“I’ll do my best, changeling,” he purred.
His eyes were flecks of ice in the dark. I tried to anticipate where he’d strike first, and my legs began to buzz with battle fury.
Torin lunged at me across the snowy temple floor. He attacked, aiming for my shoulder, and I parried easily. Swift as the wind, I moved as we flew into a flurry of clashing blades, our swords clinking in midair. I was driving him back already, my heart slamming with the thrill of it.
Had I been excited for Torin, or desperate for the thrill of war? Was this a suppressed side of me I’d never known in the human realm?
By now, we’d grown to know one another’s movements and rhythms, which meant I had to do something different to win. I blocked his strike with more force than usual, then spun away from him. I shifted through the dark, fast as a hummingbird’s wings. Torin was on the attack again, and he swung for me—but this time, I ducked.
No rules in Faerie…
From the ground, I moved to strike for his legs, and he leapt over my blade. Before I could rise, he swung again, vicious now. I blocked the attack, and his blade pressed down against mine.
Trapped on the ground, I slammed my foot into his knee. He lost the grip on his sword, and it clanged to the ground. As I started to rise again, the king body-checked me with the force of a steam train. I fell back hard onto the rocky earth, my head smacking the stone. Dizziness shot through my skull, and I lost my grip on the rapier.
Magic surged from the crystal into my ribs, and my body roared with violence. But Torin was already on top of me, pinning me to the snowy earth. I lifted my hips and gripped his hair, pulling him off me.
He rolled onto his back, and I straddled him, punching him hard in the jaw. His head snapped back, but with my next strike, he caught my fist in his crushing grip. With a snarl, he twisted my arm away. I flipped off him, landing facedown in the snow. The wind left my body.
The king was on my back now, pinning my hands to the earth. I moved my hips back up into him, but I wasn’t shifting him off me.
He leaned down, whispering into my ear, “I can see you have a wild side, but we clearly have more work to do.”
He released my wrists, shifting his weight. Catching my breath, I rolled over to look up at him. But the king didn’t move. He pinned my wrists again, this time facing me.
“Quite aggressive this evening, aren’t you?” Wildness danced in his pale eyes. “Good, but you need to be more aggressive, Ava. Because I will not have your death on my hands.”
My breath clouded around him. “Because underneath your grumpy exterior, you actually like me.”
He exhaled sharply and released my hands, but he didn’t get off me. “Ava,” he whispered, staring down at me.
His eyelashes were long and dark, his face a study of contrasts: pale skin, coal black eyebrows, and eyes of the palest blue.
The snow from the stone floor seeped into my clothes, freezing my skin.
He cupped the side of my face, brushing his thumb against my cheek, and pressed his forehead against mine.
That close, the primeval power of his magic pulsed over me, making my skin vibrate. I breathed in his scent. Being near him was like drawing power from a god. Desire swept through me, and my thighs clenched around his. “This is just physical,” I whispered, reminding myself out loud.
“Good.” He rolled off me onto his side, but he threaded one hand into my hair, pulling me close. The other hand slid down to my ass, tucking me next to him.
Torin turned his head, brushing his lips over mine, teasing. And when his mouth pressed against mine, his tongue sweeping in, he kissed me with the desperation of a man who thought the world was ending and only our desire could save it.
He slid his hand inside my underwear from behind, cupping my ass. Torin moaned, his fingers tightening in my hair. By the tautness of his muscles, I knew he was trying to restrain himself with every ounce of control that he had.
This was a dangerous game since he couldn’t even admit to liking me.
I ran my fingers under his shirt, feeling the carved V of his abs, then tracing a little lower…
His restraint snapped.
There was nothing in the world now but our limbs entangled, our lips moving against each other, and our hearts pounding. Our kiss was the first star in a night sky—a spark of light surrounded by darkness. The kind of kiss I’d craved my whole life and never known. Everything else faded to shadows.
He pulled away, taking my lower lip between his teeth for a moment, and we caught our breath. Gently, he brushed kisses over my jaw, keeping me close to him. For the first time since I’d been around him, Torin’s body radiated heat.
He met my gaze once more, and he seemed to be searching my eyes. “Ava,” he rasped.
Then, as quickly as the kiss had begun, he pulled away from me. He sat up, turning aside, and ran his hand through his hair.
I sat up, too, frowning at him. My body missed the warmth of his, the feel of him wrapped around me.
He looked back at me, his expression ice-cold. “You do know it’s just lust, Ava. This isn’t real. I cannot…I do not like you.”
His words hit me like an icicle in my chest, and I stared at him, stunned. As he rose from the ground, it took me a moment to remember how words worked. But of course—I’d expected this all along, hadn’t I?
I swallowed hard, ignoring the numbness growing in my fingers and toes from the cold. “You don’t like me because I’m a common fae.”
Of course, Torin also had a history of some kind with Moria—a High Fae blue blood.
“No,” he rasped. “That’s not why. I took you here for a reason.”
My jaw clenched. “And that reason is…”
“I needed to remind myself…” He trailed off. “Look, it really doesn’t matter. This was never meant to be real. You knew that.”
I stood, brushing the snow off my clothes. “It’s fine.” I lowered my voice to steady it so he couldn’t hear it breaking. “I knew all along you’re just another pretty boy asshole, and that hasn’t changed. So there have been no surprises on my end.” I was pretty sure I was doing an amazing job of covering up the fact that he’d knocked the wind out of me.
Bizarrely—even though he was the one rejecting me—an expression of pain ghosted over his features for a moment.
Then he turned and stalked away into the shadows. I stared after him. He hadn’t even bothered to pick up his sword.
I’d known what this was. He never wanted to marry. Didn’t want to fall in love or have children. And neither had I, because I was done with love.
But it felt as if my heart was breaking anyway.
