Melissa Marr - Fragile Eternity

“She followed me,” Niall reminded him. “I am who I am, Seth. I spent centuries wearing the Summer Court’s leash. I won’t be anyone or anything other than myself again. I gave her the chance to walk away, and she threatened me.”

“Because you knocked out Keenan…”

Niall shrugged. “We all have choices to make. She chose to try me. I chose to point out her follies.”

“What you did was jacked up.”

“She is physically uninjured.” Niall frowned, but his voice softened. “I don’t want discord with you, my brother. I did what needed done.”

“Whatever happens. Whenever…” Seth knew he couldn’t ask for any promises. Aislinn had eternity as a faery queen, a ruler who didn’t exactly approve of Niall’s court. All Seth could say was, “I want her to be safe.”

“And Keenan?” Niall’s voice was emotionless. “Do you fault me for injuring him?”

Seth paused as he tried to find the words to answer. Niall waited, still but for the steady rise and fall of his chest under the hands of the shadow dancers. A few breaths later, Seth caught and held Niall’s gaze. “No. I want her safe. I want you safe. And I don’t want him to ever get away with manipulating or hurting either of you.”

Niall sighed in obvious relief, and the dancers vanished, retreating into whatever void they lived in. “I’ll do what I can. Go see to her.”

And Seth had to face her—his beloved, the one he couldn’t have saved, the one who was cradling someone else. She had been in danger, and he had been useless to her. What happens when it isn’t someone like Niall? What would I do if Niall had hurt her? He was mortal-weak.

Keenan wasn’t any help either, Seth reminded himself. The difference, of course, was that Keenan could go after Niall, and if he had been conscious, he would’ve done so when she was trapped.

Sometimes being human sucks.

“Are you sure you should move?” Aislinn cradled Keenan’s head in her lap. He seemed more embarrassed than injured, more upset than angry.

The imprint of her lips on his forehead and his cheeks glowed faintly in the dimness of the room. It made her feel guilty, this proof that she’d touched him. It wasn’t an intimate kiss. It wasn’t new. They’d discovered that her kiss healed him when she’d still been a mortal awaiting the test to be Summer Queen. But, in the wake of their recent kiss and in light of the shaming thoughts she’d had about him when she was captive to Niall, she felt embarrassed.

Keenan sat up and pulled away from her, forcing more distance between them than normal. “I don’t need coddling.”

“Are you okay? Dizzy?” she asked.

He sat on the floor beside her, but out of reach. He glared at Seth. “Seth must be thrilled.”

She froze. “Don’t do that. Don’t blame Seth for Niall’s anger.”

“Niall punched me for Seth. ” He didn’t stand yet, and she was pretty certain it was because he wasn’t sure he could.

“And I went after Niall for you .”

Keenan smiled—cruelly. “Well, then.”

She glanced over at Seth, who had stopped midway across the room. He wasn’t likely to approach when he could tell that she and Keenan were arguing. He never treated her as anything less than an equal. “If you’d seen Niall…what he…when—”

Keenan was the one who froze this time. “When he what ?”

“Niall is stronger than me.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If Niall wanted to hurt me, he could’ve. There wasn’t anything I could do to stop him.”

“Did he hurt you?” He was suddenly closer, running his hands over her arms, reaching toward her as if to pull her to him.

And I want him to. It was instinct. It was also unnecessary: she was fine.

“Stop. I’m bruised, but that’s all…and that was my fault as much as his.” She blushed. “I lost my temper. He tried to walk away, but you were hurt and I was…furious.”

She recounted what he’d missed.

“And what did you feel against the shadows?” Keenan’s tone wasn’t hurt or angry now. It was a challenge, the same challenge he’d raised in their prior conversation. “What did you lust for?”

She ducked her head. “That doesn’t…I’m not…telling you. That wasn’t real. It was just a result of some perversion of—”

The words stopped, lies unable to be spoken.

“What you feel for me is not a perversion, Aislinn. Is it so hard to admit that? Can’t you give me that much?” He pushed, as if hearing her say it would change anything, as if that admission mattered as much as the Dark King striking him, as if their personal situation was of tantamount importance.

It isn’t.

“You already know the answer to that—and it doesn’t change anything . I love Seth.” With that, she stood and crossed the room. She tried to tuck that whole uncomfortable topic away as she went toward Seth.

He wasn’t happy either; it was plain on his face.

“He okay?” Seth asked grudgingly as they sat down at a battered table the guards had commandeered for them.

“His pride’s not, but his head seems to be.”

“You?” Seth didn’t push or hover. He trusted her enough to know she would’ve come to him if she needed something.

“Scared.”

“Niall’s…” He shook his head. “I don’t think he’d hurt you. Not really, but when you were in there, I wasn’t really sure. You looked scared when he pushed you against that cage thing. What was that?”

“Dark Court energy, like my sunlight and heat or Don’s ice. Niall’s is other stuff. Fear, anger, and lust. Dark Court things. Like Niall causes.”

“Lust?” Seth repeated.

She blushed.

And Seth said the words she wouldn’t: “But not for Niall.”

He glanced at Keenan, and she saw the sadness in Seth’s eyes. Then he reached out and took Aislinn’s hand.

No pressure. Even now. He trusted her.

The band had started as they sat there; Damali sang something about freedom and bullets. Her voice had an intensity that could carry the band good places, but the lyrics were dismal.

Silently, Keenan joined them at the table. He didn’t look any happier than she felt—or than she suspected Seth felt—with them all being there together.

When the song ended, Seth looked at him and said, “You okay?”

“Yes.” Keenan pressed his lips together in a cross between a grimace and a smile.

The next song began, sparing them from further attempts at civility.

Typically Aislinn wasn’t girlfriend-y in public, but she moved over to sit on Seth’s lap. He slid his arms around her and held on. Somehow, despite the noise of the band, it felt like a silence between them. It wasn’t anger, but it was weighty all the same. They both knew things were more precarious than either of them liked.

Across from her, Keenan caught her gaze before he left. It wasn’t a look she could— or wanted to —understand. Hurt? Angry? It didn’t really matter. All that she knew was that there was a tugging sensation, a compulsion to follow Keenan if he went too far from her side. Usually, if she ignored it long enough, it dulled—or maybe she simply stopped noticing it so much—but those first few moments after he left were horrible. It was growing worse each day. It was like refusing to breathe when she’d just surfaced from too long underwater, like telling her heart to stop its rapid rhythms when she’d been kissed almost long enough.

Seth brushed his fingertips over her cheek. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“I want it to be.” She leaned in to Seth’s touch. It was better to just be honest. Seth was her anchor, the only thing that made sense most days.