Frost (Frost and Nectar #1)(53)

“The thrones have been here since before the Kingdom of the Seelie was founded, and the castle was built around them. We believe they’re made from the bedrock beneath us. Some of the carvings around the castle suggest that our earliest ancestors considered the stones to be representatives of the gods. Like immovable angels. Over the millennia, they were chiseled and carved to refine them more.”

Shalini reached out to touch one, and Aeron reached out and gently took her hand. “You mustn’t touch them. The magic of the thrones is very powerful, and if a human touches them, there is no telling what the magic might do.”

I circled the stones, entranced by the energy they emitted. Even from here, I felt the thrum of their power. Their magic made the air shimmer and my skin go cold. When I’d first come into the castle, I’d felt the uneasy sense that the stone itself didn’t want me. And here, by the thrones, the alarm bells were ringing even louder in the back of my brain.

I stepped back from them and hugged myself, shivering.

From the other side of the throne, I caught Torin’s eye. I couldn’t help but wonder what I was and why the magic here warned me away. Had my birth parents loved me and died in tragic circumstances? Had they thrown me out because I wouldn’t stop screaming? Was I really something like a changeling—too unruly to keep?

This was my chance to finally find out the answer.

I took a deep breath. “Torin? How do I find out who my fae parents were?”

One of his black eyebrows arched. “We find the birth records. Ava Jones, we will learn who you are at last.”





23

A VA

S halini wanted to see the armory—or more likely, to go somewhere alone with Aeron.

Torin led me down a long hall with gothic arches and dark statues of fae kings and queens.

As we walked, a chill prickled my scalp. I had to uncover the truth, but I might really hate the answer once I did.

The further away we got from the throne hall, the more my chest unclenched.

“What if I really am a changeling?” I asked quietly. “What if I was too much of a nightmarish baby for my parents to keep? What if I screamed nonstop?”

Torin turned, giving me a perplexed look. “I think all babies scream and keep their parents awake, Ava. You weren’t born with anything wrong with you. I promise. The nickname is just me teasing you.

You know that, right?”

I hadn’t expected him to have such a kind response. “What happened to your parents, Torin?” I knew they’d died young, especially for fae.

He sucked in a sharp breath and glanced at me. “Monsters brought them down. Slowly.”

I stared at him. “What do you mean, monsters? Like, a dragon?”

“Worse.” He slid me a sharp look, his pale eyes glinting with a warning. “Humans might call them demons. But I can’t really say more. Even speaking of them could draw their twisted attention.”

Curiosity danced up my nape, but clearly, he didn’t want to talk about his parents’ death, and I really shouldn’t have asked. “Of course. I shouldn’t be so nosy.”

“It’s fine.” But the air had seemed to thin, until at last, Torin broke the spiky silence. “I remember my mother. They say you’re not supposed to remember things from before age three, but I do remember her. I don’t remember my father. I remember crawling into my mother’s lap, and she’d sing to me. She had a necklace I played with—a little locket with a picture of me. I loved toying with it.

When you’re so little, you don’t differentiate between you and your mom, and I remember crawling all over her. Trying to chew on her hair or sleep on her shoulder. I remember how desperately I always wanted to sleep in her bed…”

He trailed off, and I felt his sadness twisting my heart. “I know that feeling well—missing the one person who always made you feel safe.”

He glanced at me with a sad smile—the tiniest flash of vulnerability for the first time since I’d met him—before he schooled his features again. A mask of composure. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.”

It struck me for the first time that apart from Aeron, Torin seemed deeply isolated. But it was his own doing, wasn’t it? He’d built a prison for himself to keep everyone away.

My throat tightened as I realized the truth. “You’re telling me this for the same reason you already chose me to win. I’m the one without any risk—the person you don’t have to worry about falling for.

Because you don’t like me, and that makes me a safe person for your secrets. No messy feelings.”

He paused before a grand library entrance with towering stone columns. “And you don’t like me, either.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Right?”

A sharp blade slid through my thoughts. I already knew which answer he wanted. “Right.”

He inhaled deeply and pulled his gaze away. When he looked back at me, his eyes burned with intensity. “Good. And that is what makes you my perfect bride. Which reminds me—about tonight. Do you know how to dance like the fae? In our court, it’s sort of a ballroom style.”

“I literally have no idea. The two ways I know how to dance are your basic noncommittal hip sway and a tango.”

“A tango?”

“I signed Andrew and me up for classes together because I thought it would be fun for…” I closed my eyes, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks as I realized how pathetic I was, envisioning our wedding dance when he’d never proposed. “I just thought it would be fun. Two years of tango classes.”