Page 22

Summer

H eavy boots crunch the ground behind me, growing louder—then Wyn’s arms wrap around my stomach, pulling me back against his chest. He holds me tightly, like he’s afraid I might vanish.

“What I did was necessary, Summer,” he says, warm breath against my ear. “I promise. Let me show you why.”

“You want me to look at that guy again?”

Wyn nods, his sharp cheekbone rubbing mine.

My skin tingles from the contact, and I shrug out of his arms. “I can’t. I already see him lying limp like a dead fish every time I close my eyes. It’s heartbreaking.”

Guilt flashes over his face, then it’s gone, his lips pressing into a flat line. “Too bad. This is something you need to see.”

Before I can react, he sweeps me up and throws me over his shoulder. “ Finally ,” he mutters, then marches toward the river.

“Wyn, if you don’t put me down, I swear—”

“You’ll what? Bite, kick, scream? I might enjoy all three. You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this. Shame it had to be against your will.”

I pummel his back with a fist, my other hand hunting for his weapon. “You are so lucky I can’t reach your sword right now.”

“Try my other side,” he says. “You’re welcome.”

At the edge of the water, he sets me down next to the fae’s lifeless body. I refuse to look, keeping my gaze directly in front of my feet.

“Summer, look at him. Please,” he begs, his body a warm wall of strength behind me, fingers gripping my hips, holding me in place.

I open my eyes and focus on the limp form half-floating in the water.

The dead fae’s handsome guise is gone. The corpse on the riverbank has slimy, mottled skin that stretches tight over long limbs and swollen joints, the bones jutting out at strange angles.

Hair tangled like black weeds. Opaque obsidian eyes stare at the sky, his mouth a gaping maw oozing dark blood.

The water laps gently around him, a vortex of black, oily fluid rising to the surface. He smells like rotting fish. Serrated teeth protrude from a slack mouth, dark-green saliva still glistening between them.

“That’s not who I was talking to.”

“It is. He’s a nix. A shape shifter that preys along the waters of Faery. When they die, all glamours dissolve. Even to human eyes.”

“Okay,” I say. “Now he doesn’t look so friendly. Is there a chance he’ll rise up and bite our heads off? ”

“No, he’ll stay dead. But next time I tell you not to talk to anyone, please fucking listen to me. I won’t always be able to get to you in time. And if you die on my watch, I swear I’ll strangle you myself.”

“You know that doesn’t make sense, right? I’d already be dead so…”

Wyn’s steely gaze bores through me, snapping my jaw shut. From the trees, a bird sings a cheerful tune, as if the horrible violence never happened.

“How could I have been so stupid?” I ask.

“It’s not your fault. Nixes cast spells on their victims to hide their true appearance. Creatures like him are exactly why I told you to stay away from all fae.”

“To be precise, you said not to talk to anyone.”

Wyn lets out an impatient huff. “Okay. And did you obey me?”

I stare at the trees on the opposite bank, unable to meet his gaze, feeling petulant and embarrassed.

“No, but why does it matter to you so much what happens to me? You’re a so-called fae prince.

” My fingers place quotation marks in the air around the words fae prince.

“And I’m a mentally messed-up human that you won’t even fool around with to take our minds off all this shit.

And that tells me how little I matter to you. ”

His spine straightens, and then he turns slowly to fully face me. “You matter, Summer. I care about what happens to you. Deeply. Nixes are dangerous creatures. Fae regularly disappear after straying too close to rivers when alone, never to be heard of again in any city or realm.”

“Might just be rumors. ”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “No. My sister was nearly taken by one in the Merit Kingdom. They’re not usually seen so far north, but it was a nix, nonetheless. And you should thank Dana it wasn’t one of Draírdon’s half-mechanical monstrosities.”

A cold shudder runs through me. Draírdon . For some reason, that name sparks a memory I can’t quite grasp—glittery darkness spinning around me, wide, malevolent grins melting into sneers that mock and taunt. Did I dream this vision? Or did it really happen?

“By Dana, do you mean the ancient mother of the Tuatha Dé Danann?” I ask. “She’s not going to pop out from behind the trees any minute, is she?”

“No, she’s a goddess of the fae, no longer living.”

“What a relief. Meeting her would tip me over the edge. So it was the risk to my personal safety that sent you into orbit? Nothing else?”

He shakes his head, staring intently, but saying nothing.

“Wyn, what if we were back at your court, and I’d been dancing with an Elemental fae you approved of, a nice guy for instance, and the dance turned into a stroll through the gardens, followed by a kiss that you happened to witness. Would you be all right with that?”

“No! By the gods, I would not be all right. And that guy’s head would be removed from his neck before he could blink.”

Fury boils my blood. He can’t have it both ways. If he doesn’t want me, he has no right to stand in anyone else’s way.

“But that makes no sense,” I say, pushing him against a tree trunk, my fingers twisting into the soft fabric of his shirt. “What do you want from me, Wyn? I don’t understand you at all. ”

“I want ,” he bites out, “for you to be sensible and take your personal safety seriously.” He looms over me, warm breath caressing my cheek.

“That’s all?” I demand. “Nothing else?”

“Yes.” His chest pumps beneath his shirt as he schools his features, concentrating on his next words. “That’s all. Nothing else.”

“I don’t believe you,” I say, catching the flicker of muscle in his jaw that signals discomfort, possibly even pain. “You’re using your halfling ability to lie. Tell me the truth.”

He drags a hand through his hair, sighing. “Look, I don’t know… I want… I need to keep you safe. Definitely that. And to keep the Shade Court away from you.” Then his voice drops, and he mutters something that sounds like: everything. I want everything .

For a moment, shock silences me, but I mentally shake it off and push him further. “And you’re not happy about that?”

“No. I’m fucking pissed.”

Then he does the last thing I expect.

He kisses me.

Furiously .

His hand curls around the back of my neck as his mouth finds mine, coaxing and consuming in equal measure. I gasp when his teeth graze my lower lip, a shiver rolling through me, one that has nothing to do with my near-death experience or the nix.

All logical thought dissolves as my fingers clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer, not allowing him to escape. The taste of him—smoky, sweet, and wild—feeds the heat kindling in my belly, turning it into a blazing wildfire.

Wyn pulls back just enough to murmur my name against my lips, his breath ragged, the space between us so small I can count each glittering, gold fleck in his irises.

My pulse thrums in my ears, loud enough that I wonder if he can hear it too.

His fingers trace my jawline, gentle, feathering up to the sensitive skin behind my ear.

“You drive me crazy,” he says, voice rough as gravel. “I should save my sanity, drop you at the nearest warded stronghold. Walk away.”

“Then do it. Go.” My words are soft, a whispered dare.

Wyn’s jaw tightens, frustration warring with something darker in his features. “I can’t . No power in any realm could ever make me.”

His other hand grips my waist, tugging me closer. And then I’m kissing him again, deeper this time, as if I can pour all my fear and confusion into him. As if he’ll absorb every bit of it.

I might be the crazy girl who murdered her parents, who lost her mind to a year in Faery doing who-knows-what, and still can’t remember any of it. But who cares? None of that matters when I have Wyn on my side, holding me tight. I can deal with anything if he’s with me.

Anything at all.

I come up for air, soaking in the ruined sight of him, but he barely allows me a breath before his mouth crashes into mine again, and the ground beneath my feet shudders. His grip tightens at my waist, his fingers digging into my flesh like he needs this as much as I do.

My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging hard as his tongue strokes mine. Then an image flashes in my mind—the dead fae, broken and crumpled at the river’s edge. Revulsion surges through me. And suddenly I don’t know who I’m kissing.

I push Wyn’s chest, putting space between us again as my head spins and my knees threaten to buckle. “I still can’t believe you were so brutal. You didn’t give the nix a chance.”

“What do you expect? I’m a prince of Faery who turns into a feral wolf, not a wag-tailed mutt. Do I look like a lapdog to you?”

My gaze drags along his frame. Muscles tight with frustration, he looks infuriatingly gorgeous, standing tall with a predator’s savage grace. “No, Wyn. Right now you look vicious.”

“Good. Don’t forget it. And you, of all people, should know that fae don’t belong in children’s books.”

“Maybe not all nix are out to kill people.”

“Keep thinking like that and I’ll be digging your grave before sunrise. And then another one beside it for what’s left of your murderer. The second one won’t be very big.” A thoughtful expression crosses his face. “Can you wield a sword?”

“Is that a joke? Of course I can’t wield a sword. Can you parallel park a pickup truck during peak hour? Download an app on a cellphone? Have you ever even used one before?”

Almost smiling, he says, “Nope. Can’t do any of that. But we could trade. I’ll teach you to defend yourself, and you can show me how to summon the app. Stupidest name for a weapon, by the way.”

A laugh bubbles up my throat, cut off by the appearance of a long, thin sword that materializes in Wyn’s right hand.

He gives me a wicked grin, then turns the silver hilt toward me as he leans forward and whispers in my ear. “Lesson one, Summer. Be careful… I bite.”