she saw no reason to try to control it. The air inside the shadow bubble was growing blisteringly hot. She could taste acrid desert air, sand against her lips.
“Strike me, Ash. Go ahead. Give me leave to let my courtloose on yours. Convince me that I should let them torture your frail Summer Girls. Invite me to permit them to draw rowan blood,” he whispered in a tone meant for bedrooms and candlelight. That was the nature of the Dark Court, though—violence and sex, fear and lust, anger and passion. He reached out and caressed her cheek as he added, “Allow me to give in to their desires.”
Irial was less dangerous to us. That was Niall’s weak spot—Irial. Stop treating him like a friend. Don’t think of him like a mortal. Her mind tangled trying to figure what move made sense here. So much she’d learned about faeries was no longer useful. She’d long since surrendered the ability to live by most of the rules Grams had taught her. One rule was still helpful though: If I run, they’ll chase.
She came closer, advancing on him. “The last Dark King thought to tempt me. Here. In this same place…”
Niall laughed, looking almost joyous for a brief flash, but that pleasure was gone as quickly as it had arrived. “If he’d truly tried, he would’ve had you. He didn’t try you, Ash…you were a momentary distraction, a quick flirt. Irial’s just that way.”
“Keenan says you’re like Irial—a Gancanagh . He didn’t explain that to me before,” she admitted, not proud of her king’s deceits or the results, but willing to be honest. “Are you still? Are you addictive?”
“Why? You want a taste?”
Something feral waited. She saw it under the thin veneer of civility that was still Niall. It wasn’t a surface she wantedto crack. Logic warned her away, but she didn’t heed it. “So we really should start treating You like Irial….”
“No”—Niall put his hand on her shoulders and pushed her until she was crushed between the wall of shadows and him—“you should remember that Irial didn’t really want to hurt Keenan. I do. I only need an excuse. Will you give me one, Ash?”
The feel of that wall behind her body was overwhelming. Dangerous temptations whispered on her skin; things she would rather not consider came rushing to her mind. Keenan under my hands. Mine. Not just a taste, but drowning in him. It wasn’t a Dark Court faery she wanted, but it was Dark Court energy that made her mind go places it really shouldn’t. Dark Court temptations made her think of the faery she wanted, not the mortal she loved. Her heart felt too fast in her chest as the shadows pulled her under her fears and lust.
“I want—” She bit down on her lip, not speaking those words, not admitting that she thought of Keenan in that instant.
“I know what you want, Ash. What I want is to wound him.” Niall looked through the shadows at Keenan. “I want him to cross lines that would justify attacking him.”
“Justify?” She tried to push away from the shadows that were cradling her.
“To myself. To Donia. To Seth.”
“But…”
“My court wants it. It’s a big part of why they embraceme as their king…. It’s why Bananach flaunts herself in my chambers every moment she can. She comes to me, bloodied and hungry for whatever anger I have.” Niall looked at Seth, who pushed futilely against the shadow barrier. “Seth wants you. He loves you. Keep him safe from Keenan…or I’ll have more than reason to let loose the perversions and cruelty of my court.”
She looked through the barrier. Seth was saying something, but his words were blocked by the smoky wall. His expression, however, wasn’t. He was livid. Her very calm Seth was anything but peaceful.
“If Seth would forgive me, Ash, I would use you as my excuse to provoke your king.” He squeezed her shoulders. “You hurt Leslie by your stupidity. You hurt me.”
He pushed her into the shadow wall until she thought her heart would
“Strike me, Ash. Go ahead. Give me leave to let my courtloose on yours. Convince me that I should let them torture your frail Summer Girls. Invite me to permit them to draw rowan blood,” he whispered in a tone meant for bedrooms and candlelight. That was the nature of the Dark Court, though—violence and sex, fear and lust, anger and passion. He reached out and caressed her cheek as he added, “Allow me to give in to their desires.”
Irial was less dangerous to us. That was Niall’s weak spot—Irial. Stop treating him like a friend. Don’t think of him like a mortal. Her mind tangled trying to figure what move made sense here. So much she’d learned about faeries was no longer useful. She’d long since surrendered the ability to live by most of the rules Grams had taught her. One rule was still helpful though: If I run, they’ll chase.
She came closer, advancing on him. “The last Dark King thought to tempt me. Here. In this same place…”
Niall laughed, looking almost joyous for a brief flash, but that pleasure was gone as quickly as it had arrived. “If he’d truly tried, he would’ve had you. He didn’t try you, Ash…you were a momentary distraction, a quick flirt. Irial’s just that way.”
“Keenan says you’re like Irial—a Gancanagh . He didn’t explain that to me before,” she admitted, not proud of her king’s deceits or the results, but willing to be honest. “Are you still? Are you addictive?”
“Why? You want a taste?”
Something feral waited. She saw it under the thin veneer of civility that was still Niall. It wasn’t a surface she wantedto crack. Logic warned her away, but she didn’t heed it. “So we really should start treating You like Irial….”
“No”—Niall put his hand on her shoulders and pushed her until she was crushed between the wall of shadows and him—“you should remember that Irial didn’t really want to hurt Keenan. I do. I only need an excuse. Will you give me one, Ash?”
The feel of that wall behind her body was overwhelming. Dangerous temptations whispered on her skin; things she would rather not consider came rushing to her mind. Keenan under my hands. Mine. Not just a taste, but drowning in him. It wasn’t a Dark Court faery she wanted, but it was Dark Court energy that made her mind go places it really shouldn’t. Dark Court temptations made her think of the faery she wanted, not the mortal she loved. Her heart felt too fast in her chest as the shadows pulled her under her fears and lust.
“I want—” She bit down on her lip, not speaking those words, not admitting that she thought of Keenan in that instant.
“I know what you want, Ash. What I want is to wound him.” Niall looked through the shadows at Keenan. “I want him to cross lines that would justify attacking him.”
“Justify?” She tried to push away from the shadows that were cradling her.
“To myself. To Donia. To Seth.”
“But…”
“My court wants it. It’s a big part of why they embraceme as their king…. It’s why Bananach flaunts herself in my chambers every moment she can. She comes to me, bloodied and hungry for whatever anger I have.” Niall looked at Seth, who pushed futilely against the shadow barrier. “Seth wants you. He loves you. Keep him safe from Keenan…or I’ll have more than reason to let loose the perversions and cruelty of my court.”
She looked through the barrier. Seth was saying something, but his words were blocked by the smoky wall. His expression, however, wasn’t. He was livid. Her very calm Seth was anything but peaceful.
“If Seth would forgive me, Ash, I would use you as my excuse to provoke your king.” He squeezed her shoulders. “You hurt Leslie by your stupidity. You hurt me.”
He pushed her into the shadow wall until she thought her heart would
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