Ambrosia (Frost and Nectar, #2)(7)

With his hand around my throat, he held up the stone cup above my mouth. He let a single drop fall onto my lips, and I licked it, burning for more.

“The thing is, traitor, he is speaking to us. And he doesn’t seem to care for you at all.”

I stared up at Morgant, a dawning horror lacerating my thoughts. All this time, I’d been imagining he’d taken his portal out of here.

“My name is Ava, not traitor.” Was Torin really here in the dungeons—or was this a bluff? Because if they were torturing him…

My thoughts swam with darkness.

Morgant’s lip curled. “The Seelie king tells me that he loathes you. That he will return to his kingdom and marry a beautiful woman named Moria.” He cocked his head. “He has no loyalty to you. I believe he finds you repugnant, slovenly, and utterly lacking in discipline and sophistication.”

Ouch.

“He said,” Morgant continued, “that he chose you to compete in his trial for a queen only because he hates you. Because he did not want a real wife. He said he could never love you.”

I stared at the floor, and my vision went hazy. Ever since I’d come home to find Andrew entwined with Ashley, my heart had been slowly icing over. Now, the cold seeped right down into my veins and arteries, spreading its frozen mantle through my chest. With Morgant’s words, the final glistening sheen of ice crept over my heart.

“He’s not the king, though,” I said dully. “He’s lying to you.”

Morgant released his grip on my throat and smacked me hard across the face. The blow dizzied me, pain shooting through my temple. I fell to the cell’s floor of rough bark and laid there, not bothering to get up.

If I ever recovered my strength, I was going to rip this bastard’s spine out of his body.

“If you are trying to protect a man who loathes you,” he said from above me, “I must say I find it rather…what is the word in your tongue? Pathetic. It is also grotesque to me that you are so weak. No magic. No power. No honesty or honor. You are nothing like a true Unseelie. We do not lie. And we know who he is. The Queen knows who you are.”

I flicked my gaze to his. “That makes one of us, because I have no clue. Care to fill me in?”

“She has not yet told me.” His powerful hand clamped around the back of my neck in a crushing grip. He lifted me into the air, bruises forming beneath his powerful fingers. I kicked behind me, swinging my legs as hard as I could. It was like kicking a stone wall, one I could barely reach.

“Where is your magic?” he barked. “An Unseelie should not be so helpless. ”

He dropped me, and I fell to the floor, curling up into a ball. Before I had time to answer, Morgant kicked me hard in the ribs, and pain shot through my side. The feel of bruised ribs was blinding, and my thoughts went dark for a moment.

I hugged my legs to my chest, trying to protect my body, my ribs. “I don’t have magic. I’m a common fae.”

“There are no common Unseelie.” His furious voice boomed throughout my cell. “We all have magic. But you? You are broken. You spent too much time among their kind.”

My mind felt hunted. If I was “broken” like this monster said, he certainly wasn’t helping the situation by dropping me on the floor and kicking me in the chest.

“If I had any magic,” I gasped, “I would use it.” It came out sounding like a plea.

“And in that case, I might respect you. But since you have nothing to fight back with, you must give me some answers to survive. Isn’t that right? Because the Seelie king hasn’t told me what he was doing here. And he tells me his army is strong, but he gives me no specifics.” He knelt next to me, brushing my hair off my face while I clutched my ribs. “You mean nothing to him whatsoever, Ava Jones. There is no reason for you to protect our enemy king. So tell me about his magic in Faerie. Tell me about his army. If you do, you get a meal and water. If you don’t, I may break your arms. Or I may rip open the holes where my darts pierced your shoulders. You can choose.”

“They have legions of soldiers. And powerful magic. They will come after their king here if you don’t release him. They will slaughter all of you.” I had no idea if any of this was true. If Torin was in the Court of Sorrows’ dungeon, his kingdom would be frozen, starving, half dead.

He bared his teeth, his canines sharp. “Are you trying to make threats? I’d advise you not to make your situation any worse,” he said in a low, gravelly voice. “I’d advise you to do as you are told.”

“I really don’t know anything about magic. I grew up around humans. If the queen knows who I am, she should know that much.” The effort of speaking was exhausting me.

“How did you get here?”

I rolled flat on my back, staring up at the leaves. “Some kind of magic I didn’t understand.” This, at least, was true.

He held up the wooden cup. “Open your mouth if you want to drink.”

Hating myself for my pathetic state, I opened my mouth, sticking out my tongue. Morgant let one tiny drop of water drip onto my tongue at a time. I licked them up until Morgant pulled the cup away again.

“What did it look like? And feel like? The magic that brought you here.”

Water. “It was…flashing lights…and a spell…” The effort of making up a convincing lie was clearly beyond me, and Morgant smacked me hard again, a pain so sharp that a bright light burst behind my eyes.