Ambrosia (Frost and Nectar, #2)(4)

How much had I angered the old gods by willingly jumping into that portal? The Seelie’s anointed king was letting his people freeze to death to keep a demon safe.

The old gods had chosen me to lead the Seelie. Before my coronation, the Horned God had transformed the male nobles into stags, and I had proven my strength by defeating every one of them. Then, covered in blood, we’d marched to the Sword of Whispers for the final test of the gods.

Only a trueborn high king could lift the sword. It was forged by the old gods in the land of the dead. Made of Fomorian steel, it could cut through stone. If I held it to an enemy’s throat, he confessed his sins. And when a trueborn high king grips its hilt, the sword whispers. On the battlefield in a king’s hand, the blade whispers of death and valor, of ravaged bodies and the songs of gods. That is how I’d known the old ones had chosen me.

So what the fuck was I doing right now?

She turned back to me with a frown. “What are you brooding about?”

“The Sword of Whispers,” I muttered absentmindedly.

She sighed. “Are you delirious?”

The corner of my mouth twitched. She wasn’t entirely wrong. Any king who used the sword would start to hear voices.

But my thoughts about Ava were their own kind of madness, and she’d already rendered me senseless.





3





AVA




Starlight streamed through the tree branches as we followed the river down the slope. The more we walked, the more it seemed as if we were approaching some kind of civilization. Between gnarled trunks, ruined stone arches appeared, covered over with climbing red flowers.

Torin walked behind me, and I stole a few glances at his bare-chested, athletic form. The moonlight seemed to shine off his spiky tattoos, making them look like blades. A little part of me appreciated that he was here, making sure I was safe. Another, much larger part of me rebelled at the fact that he would probably be leaving to marry someone else. He needed a queen, and it wasn’t like I was an option anymore.

The thought of him sitting on his repaired throne with someone like Moria at his side…

I wasn’t raised in these worlds, fed on the enmity between the kingdoms. What was the point of dragging out mutual hatred over millennia ?

I glanced at him again, feeling a crack in my heart when I took in his physical perfection. “Who will you marry?” Not sure why I asked when I didn’t really want to know.

“Who I marry doesn’t really matter, Ava. The main thing is that I need to return and fix my throne as soon as possible. Without my throne intact, I have no power whatsoever,” he said quietly. “Maybe Moria or Cleena. Either of them would be perfect. Though frankly, I suspect that my greatest love of all will always be myself. And can you blame me, changeling—”

I whirled, interrupting him when I pressed my hand to his chest. “Not Moria. She hates you. She blames you for killing her sister.”

“I did kill her sister.”

“Why?”

“Her name was Milisandia, and I buried her in the Temple of Ostara.” He took a deep breath. “It was an accident that I have regretted every day since. I haven’t been able to tell anyone until now. Only my sister knew.” His sorrowful blue eyes searched mine. “I killed her, Ava.”

I stared at him, my heart twisting. I wasn’t sure he’d understood that Moria was unhinged and dangerous. She’d murdered Alice, for fuck’s sake. “Torin, I don’t think she believes it was an accident.”

His eyes flashed, and he held a finger to his lips. His gaze went to something over my shoulder. “I can smell another Unseelie.”

I inhaled deeply, breathing in a new forest scent. Under the loam and moss and almond-scented mushrooms, a briny scent floated on the wind. As I concentrated, a distant song carried through the forest. Here, the river’s flow had grown gentler, more of a burbling than a rush. In the quiet of the night, the forest life around me seemed to have a faint hum to it, like soft woodland music.

I turned back to the path. A faint blue glow beamed between ruined stone vaults further down the river.

The song seemed to call to me, luring me closer. I took the lead as Torin hung back, his footfalls nearly imperceptible. We kept hidden behind the cover of dense ruddy foliage, and I peered through it at the blue light.

I spied the source: large, glowing blue fireflies that floated through the air above a murmuring stream. And there, resting her arms on the river bank, was an Unseelie woman. Her shimmering white hair draped over bare bronze shoulders. She wore a small cap made of bright red feathers and a sheer green veil over her face. She didn’t look particularly vicious.

As I craned my neck, I caught sight of iridescent scales that glittered over her shoulder blades.

I turned to Torin, and he whispered, “A merrow. Not dangerous, I think. She can’t leave the water.”

I inhaled deeply, trying to pick out the scent of any other creatures. I didn’t smell anything.

The merrow had started singing again, a quiet, beautiful song that harmonized with the intoxicating melody of life around us.

With a deep inhalation, I pushed through the foliage, the slick leaves brushing gently against my skin. The merrow turned to look at me and fell silent. She cocked her head, curiosity shining in her violet eyes.

I smiled hesitantly. “Hello.”