Melissa Marr - Fragile Eternity

All of her clarity faded as he held open his arms. She slipped into his embrace and kissed him, not bothering to keep her ice in check, not caring if it wounded him.

He’ll stop.

But instead of pushing her away, he pulled her closer. That awful sunlight he carried in his skin flashed brighter. The snow that had begun to fall around them was sizzling away as quickly as it fell.

Her back was against the door. She hadn’t unlocked it, but it still swung open. At a glance, she realized that Keenan had melted the lock.

It’s not Solstice yet. We shouldn’t. Can’t…

There were welts on her arms where he touched her, blisters on her lips. She tangled her hand in his hair and held him tighter to her. Frost spread down his neck.

He’ll stop. I’ll stop. Any second now.

They were on the sofa, and tiny fires burned on the cushion above her head. She let her winter slip further out. The room was filled with heavy snowfall. The fires hissed as they were extinguished.

I’m stronger. I could stop.

But he was touching her. Keenan was here, and he was touching her. She wasn’t stopping. Maybe they could make it work; maybe it would be fine. She opened her eyes to look at him, and the brightness blinded her.

“Mine,” he murmured between kisses.

Their clothes kept catching fire, smoldering out as the snow smothered the flames, only to ignite again. Blisters covered her skin where his hands had gripped her. Frostburnt patches of skin were visible on his chest and neck.

She cried out, and then he pulled back.

“Don…” His face was grief stricken. “I didn’t mean to…” He propped himself up on one arm and looked down at her bruised arms. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know.” She slid to the floor, leaving him alone on the smoking sofa.

“I just wanted to talk.” He watched her warily.

She concentrated on the ice inside of her, not on how close he still was. “About us, or about business?”

“Both.” He grimaced as he tried to pull on his tattered shirt.

She watched him button it up, as if that would help hold it in place. Neither spoke as he fussed with the ruined cloth. Then she asked, “Do you love me? Even a little?”

He stilled, hands aloft. “What?”

“Do you love me?”

He stared at her. “How can you ask that?”

“Do you?” She needed to hear it, something, anything.

He didn’t answer.

“Why are you even here?” she asked.

“To see you. To be near you.”

“ Why ? I need more than your lust.” She didn’t cry as she said it. She didn’t do anything to let him know how badly her heart was breaking. “Tell me we have something more than that. Something that won’t destroy either of us.”

He was a sunlit effigy, as beautiful as always, but his words weren’t beautiful. “Don. Come on. You know it’s more than that. You know what’s between us.”

“Do I?”

He reached out. His hand was healing, but he was bruised.

That’s what we do to each other.

Donia stood up and walked outside, needing not to see the destruction in her home.

Again.

Keenan followed.

She leaned against the cottage. How many times have I stood here, trying to keep my distance from him or from the last Winter Queen? She didn’t want a repeat of the last time Winter and Summer tried to be together.

“I don’t want us to destroy each other like they did,” she whispered.

“We’re not like them. You’re not like Beira.” He didn’t touch her. Instead he sat on the porch. “I’m not going to give up on you if we have a chance.”

“This”—she motioned at the destruction behind her—“isn’t good.”

“We slipped for a minute.”

“Again,” she added.

“Yes, but…we can sort it out. I shouldn’t have reached for you, but you were crying and…” He squeezed her hand. “I slipped up. You make me forget myself.”

“Me too.” Donia turned to face him. “No one else angers or thrills me like this. I’ve loved you most of my life, but I’m not happy with things the way they are.”

He stilled. “What things?”

She laughed briefly. “That might work on your other queen, but I know you, Keenan. I see how close you two are growing.”

“She’s my queen.”

“And being with her would strengthen your court.” Donia shook her head. “I know. I’ve always known. You’ve never been mine.”

“She has Seth.”

Donia watched the Hawthorn Girls flitting among the trees. Their wings glistened in the dark. She weighed her words. “He’ll die. Mortals do. And then what?”

“I want you in my life.”

“In the dark when she’s not around. A few nights of the year…” Donia thought over the handful of nights when they could truly be together, no longer than a few stolen heartbeats. The taste of what she couldn’t have made it so much harder to weather the months when even a kiss was dangerous. She blinked away icy tears. “It’s not enough. I thought it would be, but I need more.”

“Don—”

“Listen. Please?” Donia sat down beside him. “I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you enough to die for it…but I see you trying to romance her and yet still coming to my door. Charm isn’t going to let you have us both under your sway. Neither of us is one of your Summer Girls.” Donia kept her voice gentle. “I accepted death to give you your queen—even though it meant losing you, even after years of conflict.”

“I don’t deserve you.” He stared at her as if she was his world. In that look—the same look that she’d fallen for innumerable times—he seemed to hold all of the words she longed to hear. In moments that she collected like treasures, he was her perfect match. Moments weren’t enough. “I’ve never deserved you,” he said.

“Sometimes I’m sure of that…but I wouldn’t love you if that was entirely true. I’ve seen the faery king you can be and the person you can be. You’re better than you think”—she touched his face carefully—“better than I think sometimes.”

“I want to be the person I could be with you…” he started.

“But?”

“I need to put my court’s needs first. For nine centuries I’ve wanted only to reach where I am now. I can’t let what I want— who I want—get in the way of what’s best for my fey.” He raked his hand through his hair again, looking like the boy she’d met back when she thought he was a human.

She wanted to comfort him, to promise it would be fine. She couldn’t. The closer summer came, the more he and Aislinn were drawn together. He hadn’t come to see her but a few times since spring had begun. Today, he’d come making demands. Loving him didn’t mean letting him rule her—or her court.

“I understand. I have to do the same thing…but I want you , Keenan, not the king.” She leaned her head against his arm. As long as they were careful, not forgetting, not losing control, they could touch. Unfortunately, touching him made self-control a challenge. She sighed and added, “I want to set aside the courts when we are together, and I need you to accept that my loving you doesn’t mean that dealing with my court is different from any other business of yours. Don’t think that what we share means that my court is malleable.”

He held her gaze as he asked, “And if I can’t do that?”

She glanced at him. “Then I need you out of my life. Don’t keep trying to use my love to manipulate me. Don’t expect me not to be jealous when you bring her to my house and stare at her like she’s your world. I want a real relationship with you…or nothing at all.”