by Bekah Harris
“Oh, come on, Ardan. You love finding the humor in every situation. You have to see the undeniable irony in this. The moment I actually think there will be peace in Winter, I learn that an army of monsters is about to destroy us forever.”
“And all you wanted was a single day to celebrate your graduation,” Ardan concluded.
“Graduation is like the ultimate rite of passage,” Ivy said, shaking her head. “I thought I might at least get you drunk and take advantage of you.”
Ardan smirked. Sometimes, it was easy to forget that Ivy had been raised human. But times like now, he was reminded how new and difficult all this must be for her. If anyone deserved a single night off, it was her. Yet because of who she was, she couldn’t enjoy one night to celebrate. The black butterfly ruined her party.
But it didn’t have to ruin their entire night.
They were safe in the Winter Castle, hundreds of well-trained guards standing between them and their enemies.
“You are welcome to take advantage of me anytime, Princess,” he fired back. “No Fae wine necessary.”
She rolled her eyes and swatted his shoulder, but Ardan caught her wrist, bringing it to his nose. Slowly, he breathed in her sweet scent, cold and wintry like fresh fallen snow. Goosebumps pebbled across her skin as he continued up her arm.
“Now that I have your full attention,” Ardan said, “I thought I might show you exactly what I would have rather been doing during your graduation party.”
More quickly than she could register, Ardan scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, determined that they would forget about the black butterfly, at least for a while…
Hours later, as Ardan watched Ivy sleep, he considered who could have the power to unite the dark creatures of Faerie. It didn’t take long for a face to appear in his mind. Fortunately, he knew someone who would take a keen interest in helping him get to the bottom of that mystery.
It was time to pay a visit to the recently crowned Seelie Prince.
Chapter Seven
Bear stared up into the cloudless, orange sky, tormented by his own thoughts. It was beautiful here in the Seelie Court, but he had been raised in Winter. He missed the overcast sky, the way snow drifted down like cold kisses where it met the skin. He missed Ivy and Jules and Lochlan.
He missed feeling useful. He missed having a purpose.
In Winter, his life had meant something. Each morning, he woke up knowing that he would give his life to protect the royal family. There were trainings and missions, revels and ceremonies. Here, he lived in Endellion’s shadow. In Seelie, he was the long lost prince who lived a royal life but knew nothing about being a Seelie Court Fae. He felt like he was trapped in someone else’s life, someone else’s nightmare, really.
He leaned back against the stone wall, longing to see anything other than the perpetual sunrise: the stars and sweet-smelling blooms of spring and summer, the fiery colors of autumn, even the black night of Unseelie. Here, the days seemed as endless as the ever-bright sky—and there was nothing for him to do. If he had still been a guard in the Winter Court, he could fling himself into work, training to protect the Winter Court royals. But here, Endellion was queen. She had ruled for more than five centuries, so she rarely consulted Bear on anything. She didn’t need him or anyone else.
Then, there was Slaine.
He would be lying if he said she wasn’t beautiful or tempting. She was. But after what had passed between them—and Teagan—when Alena held him prisoner in Nan’s house, he could never forgive her. He could never trust her. And he could certainly never love her.
Even if she was carrying his child.
Though they had consummated their marriage at the urging of Alena, Bear guessed the babe had been conceived during his captivity in the human realm.
The thought of a child being produced in that way, not from love but from power, made him sick.
As if that weren’t enough, Endellion continued in her persistent belief that Slaine and Alena had used him and taken advantage of him in a premeditated attempt to seat Slaine on the Seelie Court throne. Maybe she was right.
Tearing a long blade of grass lengthwise until there were two separate pieces, a rustling sound to his left sent Bear on high alert. Then, with a rippling in the air, Ardan stepped through the Faerie ring portal. Bear felt his features twist with disgust and hatred. After all he sacrificed to keep Ivy safe, this is what the Fates gave him in return: Ivy married to the loathsome younger Unseelie Prince who would never be deserving of her.
The thought of him kissing her, touching her, tempting her sent an immobilizing mixture of blind rage and dizziness washing over him. It didn’t matter that the marriage had been arranged before Ivy was even born. It didn’t matter than Queen Lyric favored the marriage. It didn’t matter that the end result was always going to be Ivy’s marriage to Ardan. The wound still festered like a deadly infection.
“What do you want, Ardan?” he managed. “I’m not in the mood to hear you gloat about your newfound marital bliss.”
Ardan narrowed his eyes and approached but seemed unaffected. Everything about him made Bear want to punch him in the face. His lazy expression, the conceited gait of his stride, his disgusting sharp teeth.
“Though I would like nothing more than to rub your nose in the fact that it is I who shares a bed with Ivy and not you, I am here on more important business than our mutual hatred for one another.”
Bear dropped the grass and folded his arms. “I’m listening.”
“An unexpected guest showed up at Ivy’s graduation party. It was a Red Cap, who came bearing a single gift for Ivy. A black butterfly pinned to the velvet lining of a box. It was still alive, struggling and writhing to escape.”
All the breath left Bear’s lungs. Heat surged through him, igniting the spark of his anger. He took a moment to recover. The black butterfly was a clear threat, but from whom? If a Red Cap delivered the gift, but the action hadn’t been ordered by the Unseelie Court, then only one thing could explain such a threat. It had to be the Unseelie darklings. No one else would dare threaten a royal in that way.
“Who would be stupid enough to unleash the creatures of the dark?” Bear hissed.
“Someone who has everything to gain by an alliance with them and nothing left to lose. Perhaps the recent orphans of the late Alena?”
“Not likely,” Bear said. “It’s not Slaine. I know it’s not. She rarely leaves the palace at all. And last I heard, Teagan just disappeared, never to be heard from again.”
“How can you be so sure it’s not one of them—or both?”
“Slaine has too much to lose,” Bear said. “Look, I’ve been considering the possibilities for weeks. My mother believes she and Alena plotted this marriage and pregnancy all along as a political checkmate that will ultimately secure her place on the Seelie Court throne. But this threat against Ivy? It couldn’t have been her. She’s here in Seelie. She’s carrying the heir. She’s climbed too high and has too much to lose.”
Ardan cocked his head, bringing his thumb and forefinger to his chin as he considered.
“I see,” Ardan began. Who knew he could be reasonable? “What about Teagan? How long has it been since Slaine has heard from her sister?”
Bear shrugged, trying to recall an instance when Slaine even mentioned her sister.
“She rarely talks about Alena, and these past few weeks, I’ve never even heard her utter Teagan’s name. Whether she’s motivated by power, love, or deception when it comes to her future in Seelie, I honestly don’t believe she is in league with Teagan. Unless some message or secret communication has slipped past our wards and our guards, I don’t see how she could be capable of deception.”
“Unless this was all plotted and arranged before Alena’s death.”
Much to his surprise, Bear’s initial reaction was anger. Why should he feel the need to defend Slaine? Yet Bear had been entertaining the same possibility for weeks. What if all along, Alena’s plan h
ad not been to seat herself on the Winter Throne but to seat her daughters there? What if Teagan and Slaine were already several steps ahead of them in a deadly game the rest of the Faerie Realm believed to be over?
“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” Ardan said. “You don’t honestly think Slaine capable of change?”
“People can change,” Bear said. “You did for Ivy, didn’t you?”
Ardan laughed. Bear would never learn to tolerate that bored, arrogant sound.
“Rest assured, I didn’t change,” Ardan said. “I’m still the same disreputable bastard I’ve always been. Only now I know exactly what I want. I didn’t before.”
Bear crossed his arms. Ardan’s suspicions of Slaine were justified without argument. But there was no way Bear could bring accusations against his wife, let alone his pregnant wife. What if the pain or anger of the accusation caused something to go wrong? Bear wasn’t in love with Slaine, but that certainly wasn’t the baby's fault.
“I only ask that you consider the possibility,” Ardan finally said. He must have realized Bear wasn’t one to dole out suspicion-riddled accusations without first having all the facts.
“I’ll try to get to the bottom of the truth,” Bear said. “And if Slaine has been deceiving me, then it is a matter for the courts. But if you are to blame anyone, I would begin with the woman who is unaccounted for: Teagan.”
Chapter Eight
“I just can’t get over the fact that my graduation party was crashed by a freaking Red Cap bearing gifts of death omens,” Juliet was saying. “I mean, never in a million years did I think anyone would actually throw me a graduation party, much less the Winter Queen of a different realm. I just keep wondering when someone will pinch me to wake me up.”
She stopped beside Padraic just in front of the door to her bedroom. He had given Juliet her own so as not to place unnecessary pressure on her, but after the night’s events, how would he ever leave her alone? Padraic wanted her near him, close to him, where he could sleep soundly, knowing she was safe. But he kept reminding himself not to come on too strong.
Juliet, he could tell, was nervous.
She hadn’t stopped for breath since they had left Ivy under the watchful care of Ardan, Lochlan, and several other guards. He suspected Juliet was apprehensive because it was the first time they’d been alone together—really and truly alone, without the pressure of curfews or Lochlan’s looming form. If Padraic weren’t so focused on the tainted gift at the revel, he might have been more hyper-aware of their proximity to one another. Of the fact that there was a very large and comfortable bed on the other side of the door they faced.
But the black butterfly, especially in its tortured state, was a threat so severe, it was punishable by death in the Faerie World. Padraic’s stomach rolled as if the world had just dropped out from under him. He didn’t like keeping things from Juliet, but at the same time, he didn’t want her to leave him. He didn’t want her to return to the human realm, even though it would be safer there for her. Selfishness was in the nature of an Unseelie Fae. But selfishness, he knew, was the fastest way to destroy Juliet’s trust in him.
Guilt tugged a bit on his chest and then yanked full force. He sighed.
“What?” Juliet asked. “What is it?”
Padraic smiled, taking her hand. He leaned against the stone wall beside the door.
“I don’t want you to leave me, but I don’t think it works in my favor to keep things from you, either,” he said.
“I’m listening.”
He gestured toward the door and turned the knob, stepping aside to allow her inside. The Brownies had outdone themselves. A large bed covered in deep purple blankets and piled with pillows dominated the space. They had already lit a fire in the room’s fireplace, which cast an eerie glow across the floor, shadows flickering with the movement of the air. Juliet strode across the room, kicking off the pair of painful looking heels she had worn to the party. Padraic stood in front of the hearth for a moment, trying to decide how to tell her just how much danger she was in. He settled into the oversized chair to gather his thoughts.
Muttering something about beauty and pain, Jules stood in front of him, staring into the flames. She crossed her arms, hugging herself, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do with her arms. It was so strange to see his confident, dirty-minded mate so vulnerable and unsure. She needed him to reassure her, to whisper words that would touch her like gentle hands and snuff out the shyness that had suddenly overcome her. But there were things she needed to hear. Things he had to say for her own protection.
“The black butterfly is nothing to take lightly,” Padraic said. “It is a threat of the highest order. That means Ivy—and anyone close to her—is a target.”
“And by anyone, you mean me?” Jules whispered. She turned around, then, all traces of her vulnerability vanished, replaced with the fierceness he so loved about her.
“Precisely.” Padraic met her eyes, then. Her beautiful, beautiful eyes.
“I’m not afraid,” she said. But a sideways glance gave her away. “Okay, maybe I’m a little afraid. But I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge.”
“This is your life I’m talking about, Juliet. You’re mortal…and I would never forgive myself if anything were to happen to you.”
“Mortal for now,” Juliet corrected him.
He stared down at his feet, his heart pounding faster and faster. He had always sworn he would never allow a female to cloud his judgment as his father had with Alena. But Juliet was not Alena. Padraic was not his father.
He swallowed back his fear. The words came out before he could stop them.
“I don’t think I could go on living without you.”
He could hear his pulse in his ears. His heart pounded as though it were trying to burst from the prison of his chest. Jules’ bare footsteps padded against the stone floor. He could feel her close beside him. Feel the warmth radiating from her skin. His breath caught in his throat.
“Like I said, I’m not afraid,” she whispered.
Suddenly, she was in front of him. Stepping between his parted knees, she settled on his lap and wound her arms around his neck.
“And I say that if being close to Ivy or to you makes me a target, then we should make the most of every breath.”
He was about to argue when she pressed her fingertip to his lips and then replaced it with a gentle kiss. Though the kiss had been light—no more than an innocent whisper—it rapidly became something more. Padraic wasn’t sure who had moved closer first. Maybe it was both of them, but the kisses intensified, deepening. Soon, his hands were in her hair, her body pressed against his. He could feel her hot breath in his mouth, feel the tip of her tongue, the metallic stud tickling him. When Jules broke the kiss to nip playfully at his neck, he wrapped his arms around her and inhaled the sweetness of her skin, like blood and flowers and heat. Overcome, he lifted her and carried her to the bed, placing her gently in the soft velvet comforter. Hovering over her, he studied her, taking in the moment so that he would never forget the wonder of her, even if he lived for a thousand years.
“What is it?” Jules asked, breathlessly.
Padraic smiled, giving her a full view of his sharp teeth. “For as long as I live, I will never forget this night.”
Her mouth quirked up on one side, and her eyes held the wicked sparkle he loved. “Then what are you waiting for?”
A laugh burst from his lips at her boldness, and he raised his brows. “I’m waiting for you to ask me.”
With a laugh of her own, she reached up, grabbing the folds of his shirt, and pulled him down beside her.
Chapter Nine
Ivy woke up to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. When she blinked herself awake, she saw Ardan leaning over the tea service, pouring coffee into one of her mother’s delicate teacups. Smiling, she watched him stir in copious amounts of cream and sugar before bringing the cup to his lips for a long drink. Scowling, he sat down in the chair with
a sigh, as he placed the empty cup back on the table and stared out the window. Ardan hated Lyric’s taste in fine china.
“The cup wouldn’t seem so small if you didn’t drink it so fast,” she pointed out.
He turned, smiling, and crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed. “Nonsense. I could get a larger beverage if I asked it to be served in a thimble.”
Ivy laughed. “That reminds me. I bought you a present, but with all the chaos from last night, I forgot to give it to you.”
“You bought me a present? For your graduation?”
Ivy shrugged. “Technically, I got us a present. Scoot over.”
Smiling with anticipation, Ivy slid out of bed and hurried into the walk-in closet to grab the square package from behind her shoe rack where she had hidden it. She had seen them online and had asked Nan to order them. Nan had delivered them to her, already wrapped, when she had seen her at graduation. Smiling at the black wrap with the gold bow, Ivy rushed back to the room. When she saw that Ardan was still settled on the bed with one leg folded beneath him, she scurried across the floor and jumped up beside him.
Ardan smiled at her, gently brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “You are the most divine creature I have ever seen,” he said.
Ivy’s heart raced in her chest, heat rushing through her entire body. “Open it.”
With a wry smile, Ardan hooked a finger beneath the wrap and tore open the package to reveal a brown box. Raising his brows, he grabbed his dagger from his hip and broke through the stubborn tape. When he saw what was inside, he laughed with delight. Ardan rarely unleashed a genuine laugh, but when he did, it came from deep in his belly. It was one of her favorite things about being married, one that she had never imagined happening between her and Ardan. But she loved to make him laugh. He pulled the two mugs from the box, admiring them. Knowing his distaste for small coffee cups, Ivy had gotten them the biggest, funniest matching set she could find. They were his and hers mugs, perfect for the mornings they shared together. They were as large as soup bowls and said “My husband is hotter than my coffee” and “My wife is hotter than my coffee.”