Ambrosia (Frost and Nectar Book 2)

Insanely, I didn’t want to let her go. Even in the gloom of the cave, I could see the gentle curves of her copper horns. She was an ancient enemy of the Seelie, fiendish horns and all—the evidence was right before my eyes—and I’d followed her to the Court of Sorrows.

The only bright spot in this situation was that I’d felt the weight of Queen Mab’s curse lift. The moment I’d pulled myself from the portal, breathing in the air of the Unseelie realm, the curse had released its icy grip on my chest. It was a strange sort of certainty, a weightlessness I’d never known before.

Why was the curse gone? I had no idea. But without it weighing me down, I could give in to my desires…I could touch Ava. I could kiss her deeply and pull the hem of her dress all the way up to her waist. It was in the nature of the fae to give in to lust, to seek pleasure above all else—

Except that the person occupying my every waking thought was a demon.

Had she lured me here? I didn’t know. The moment I’d seen a stranger following her—an armed Unseelie with horns and wings—I’d had to keep her safe.

“I can’t stay here, Ava,” I whispered. “I have a small amount of magic left, I think. I might be able to open a portal.”

If Queen Mab captured me, I’d be quite literally flayed alive. She’d find a way to draw out a painful and humiliating death for me. And yet, somehow, my attention was transfixed on the Unseelie before me. She stared up at me in the shadowy cave with big green eyes.

“Any idea how to get us out?” she asked.

Us. ”I might have enough magic left to create a portal. But you can’t come with me back to Faerie, Ava.” Here, the curse had lifted. But at home? I’d simply kill her the moment she came near.

Her eyes narrowed, then she fluttered her long, black eyelashes. “You’ll really deprive me of Moria’s charming company?”

“Whatever our deal might have been, your kind can never again set foot in Faerie.”

A war was raging between my mind and body, but I knew I couldn’t take her with me for two very important reasons. One, I’d nearly killed her. Thoughtlessly, instinctively, I’d reached out for her when she turned away from me. The icy curse had snapped out of my body, and winter had started to claim her. Two, she was a demon, and a demon had cursed our land with brutal frost and long winters. My subjects would rip her to shreds; they’d destroy the kingdom before letting an Unseelie wear the crown. Who could blame them? We’d suffered for centuries.

It didn’t stop my body from craving this particular demon. She was somehow more alluring in her current form—wild, ruthless, and seductive at the same time. My pulse raced at her nearness. Just a moment ago, I’d felt her heart beating against my body through the thin, damp material of her dress. A caress that would have been deadly back in Faerie…

My gaze moved to her perfect mouth, full and slightly parted. I wanted to taste the lips of a demon, to make her moan with pleasure. Fuck.

A low, rhythmic sound rattled outside, interrupting my mental battle. The noise sent a chill racing up my spine.

“It’s the spider,” Ava whispered.

I picked up a rock and stepped out of the cave’s mouth. Six dark eyes gleamed in the dusk as the spider crawled slowly down the trunk of the huge tree, fangs dripping with venom. My blood pounded in my skull. I didn’t want this thing anywhere near Ava.

As the spider leapt, I darted forward and smashed the rock hard against its head. The spider fell to the ground, and blood coated my hands and body. I dropped the rock. Midnight blue ichor spattered my white shirt, and I pulled it off. I crossed to the river and discarded my shirt, then cleaned my bloody hands in the cool currents.

I scanned the dark wood for movement. Apart from the wind rushing through the leaves and a strange birdsong, I couldn’t sense a thing.

When I stepped back into the cave, Ava frowned at my chest. “Did the spider steal your shirt?”

“Most women wouldn’t complain.”

“I see the breaking of your throne hasn’t damaged your ego.”

A ragged truth snagged at my thoughts underneath all my attempts at rationalization. I should leave her here and get myself home—but I could not. “I’ll make sure you are safe here, Ava, but I can’t take you with me to Faerie. And I don’t have enough magic left in me to open two portals.” Only a glimmer of magic sputtered in my chest.

Her jaw clenched. She looked too angry to speak, and her dark green eyes flashed. “Who was following me?”

“A large Unseelie with silver horns and dark wings, armed with darts. But I didn’t see him just now. I think we may have lost him in the fog and darkness.”

She crossed to the cave mouth, peering out into the shadows. After a moment, she turned back to me, a line etched between her eyebrows. “How will you know if and when I’m safe?”

Fuck knows.

I scrubbed a hand over my jaw, my mind roiling like the wild river outside. Maybe the Unseelie would welcome her with open arms. She was one of their own, a long-lost daughter of the Court. I’d return to my kingdom as soon as possible. I’d fix my throne, restore my power, and marry…someone. Moria, maybe. There was no way I’d fall in love with her.

A queen only needed to fulfill her role, to bring the spring again. The granaries were nearly empty, the cattle had been slaughtered for meat, and the kingdom had run out of money.

I was king of the Seelie, and my life was an absolute fucking shambles.

“I’ll watch from a distance to see how the Unseelie react to you. If they accept you, then I’ll quietly return to my realm and try to restore it. I think you’ll be better off here than in Faerie.”

She took a deep breath. “Why so desperate to pull me into a cave, then?”

I ran a hand through my hair. “Because that demon was armed. We’d be better off finding someone harmless. Someone we could kill with our bare hands if necessary.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Sounds like we’re in for an interesting evening, then.”

She turned and slipped out of the cave into the dark forest.

I followed her, watching the intoxicating sway of her hips as she stalked between the trees. The deeper we walked into the woods, the more vibrant red the leaves became. Pierced by the moonlight, they looked like blood spatters.

How much had I angered the old gods by willingly jumping into that portal? The Seelie’s anointed king was letting his people freeze to death to keep a demon safe.

The old gods had chosen me to lead the Seelie. Before my coronation, the Horned God had transformed the male nobles into stags, and I had proven my strength by defeating every one of them. Then, covered in blood, we’d marched to the Sword of Whispers for the final test of the gods.

Only a trueborn high king could lift the sword. It was forged by the old gods in the land of the dead. Made of Fomorian steel, it could cut through stone. If I held it to an enemy’s throat, he confessed his sins. And when a trueborn high king grips its hilt, the sword whispers. On the battlefield in a king’s hand, the blade whispers of death and valor, of ravaged bodies and the songs of gods. That is how I’d known the old ones had chosen me.

So what the fuck was I doing right now?

She turned back to me with a frown. “What are you brooding about?”

“The Sword of Whispers,” I muttered absentmindedly.

She sighed. “Are you delirious?”

The corner of my mouth twitched. She wasn’t entirely wrong. Any king who used the sword would start to hear voices.

But my thoughts about Ava were their own kind of madness, and she’d already rendered me senseless.