Melissa Marr - Darkest Mercy

“He . . . gave it up ?” Seth echoed. Of all the things he’d thought she might have told him, Keenan giving up his court wasn’t anywhere on the list. “He . . . How? When? Why?”

“When I told him that I’d made my choice, he left.” Aislinn looked at Seth. “We both want to be with the ones we love.”

He’d imagined hearing that she was truly his, dreamed of it, but in that moment, all he could do was kiss her. Seth lifted her into his arms and crossed the threshold from the hallway into the loft with her.

When he lowered her feet to the floor, she backed away, out of his arms, out of reach. “The Summer Court is strongest when its regent is happy. Do you know what makes me happy?”

When he tried to step forward, vines tangled around his legs. He glanced down at them.

She waited for him to look at her and said, “ You make me happy, Seth. Always. Only you. For eternity.”

Seth pulled free of the vines that twisted around his ankles as Aislinn laughed and ran from the room.

Faeries chase.

He caught her in the hallway, and she stayed still long enough for him to kiss her breathless before she twisted away again, slipping from his grasp as if she was sunlight darting away.

“Catch me, Seth,” she invited.

He paused.

“Faeries chase,” he said, and then, with a flirtatious smile, he turned away, but before he could take a second step, she was behind him, arms around him, lips pressed against his neck.

“I seem caught,” he murmured.

The Summer Queen whispered, “Me too.”

And they fell together into the bed of flowers that now covered the floor.

A year later . . .

He knelt before her.

“Is this what you freely choose, to accept winter’s chill?” she asked him—the faery she’d fallen in love with so many years ago. She’d dreamed that they would be together forever, but not like this. It was so strange and beautiful that she couldn’t look away.

“It’s what I want,” he assured her again.

“You understand that if this doesn’t work . . .”

He paused, glancing at her with pain in his eyes. “I’ll still be here. If you don’t want to risk it . . . I’m still here either way. We don’t need to do this if you aren’t sure.”

“Keenan—”

“But I am willing to take the chance if it’s what we both want,” he said quietly. “I would spend eternity in the Winter with you, even if it means being your subject.” He paused before adding, “Irial and Niall say it should work.”

Discord says it’s a good idea. That’s comforting.

Donia pushed back her fears. “But if they’re wrong . . .”

“It’s what I freely choose,” he repeated.

She walked over to the hawthorn bush they’d planted together last year. The leaves brushed against her arms as she bent down and reached under it. Her fingers wrapped around the Winter Queen’s staff. It was a plain thing, worn from the countless hands that had clenched the wood.

Please let this work.

She stood and held it out to him; he wrapped his hand around it.

He clutched the Winter Queen’s staff—and she hoped. For a moment she thought they were wrong, as she watched him falter. She felt the tendrils of Winter slide into his skin, the shards of ice fill his veins. The staff was an extension of her, and she felt the pain of it all over again as Keenan’s body was remade.

With icy tears sliding down her cheeks, she knelt beside him and called his name: “Keenan!”

“My Queen,” he breathed reverently as his eyes filled with snow.

Unlike her, he was born of winter, so he wasn’t aching with the pain of the cold. In truth, he was more stunning in that instant than he’d ever been before.

“My consort ,” she whispered.

He took her free hand in his. Bands of ice began to wrap around their arms, binding their wrists together. “Will you be my forever, Donia?”

“Yes. Will you share my life? My court? My forever?”

“Till death, my Queen.” Keenan sighed the words against her cheek; frost formed in her hair.

She pressed her lips to his, relishing the cold that lifted from his skin.

And the Winter Queen and her consort covered their winter garden with a fall of white snow.

The End

Once upon a time, I walked into what was reputedly “the worst bar in town” to listen to the blues. I said, “I like it here,” and a woman offered me a job. I wasn’t looking for a job, but I said yes. Years later, the Scramble Dog is still in my memories and heart. If you’re out there—Richard, Debbie, Rob, Taz, Swift, Kyote, Andy, Johnny, Becky, Sarge, Little Dave, Thumper, Grandpa, JW, August, and many of the rest of you—thank you for smiles, stories, dances, music, thrills, and rides. You’re not characters in my books, but sometimes I see your shadows in the background of my faery courts. I hope you’re all happy wherever you are.

Over the years, a lot of folks touched my life in wonderful ways, so thanks to: Cheryl, Dave, and Dawn for being here through everything; Gene for many things; Alison, Kara, Jeep, Adrian, Janice, and Scott for pool halls, parties, and dances; Scott K. for being so real; Byron C. for bad habits and good poetry; Ingrid and Robin for conversation, music, and bars; Jeanette, Richard, and Erica for faith and fabulousness; Hunter for ivy vines and intensity; Matt, Harm, Brian, and Stacy (from Raleigh-Durham) and Derrick and Ken (from Seattle) for table dancing, exhibitionism, and the unexpected. I’m grateful to have your fingerprints on my life.

This time, I’m not going to list any of you in my today . You know who you are, and you know I think my life is better because you’re in it.

But, as always and ever, the daily debt of gratitude is to Loch. I’ll never figure out how you keep from locking me in an attic somewhere when I’m lost in the story or in a mood, or how you know what I need before I do. I love you.

Melissa Marr : Although I was voted “most likely to end up in jail” in high school, I decided to get an MA and teach literature and gender studies to college students across the country. Along the way, I’ve been unable to resist trying new things—including working an archeological dig, slinging drinks at a biker bar, and getting fabulous tattoos.

I call all of this research for my writing. To fill my craving for new experiences, I’ve lived in Pennsylvania, North Carolina, Southern California, and Virginia, and I plan to keep roaming with my family as widely and as often as possible.

Please help feed my addiction to meeting interesting people by visiting me on the Web at www.melissa-marr.com or follow me on Twitter@melissa_marr.

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