Page 75 of The Kingdom Cursed By Iron

“You didn’t?” I breathe.

“No. It all went to my mother.”

I say nothing, waiting for him to explain.

“Her magic wasn’t enough to keep her alive after what that king had done to her, and at the time, my power was hampered by Cebba’s curse. She was going to die, and I had to find a way to stop it. She needed life force, the pure power of a living thing.”

“You took life force from the people making trades?”

“I took whatever they’d give me, and then I turned it into life force. I’ve always been good at turning one kind of power into another.”

I took a second to absorb this. It didn’t seem to line up with any of the legends about him…but how old were those legends, anyway? Old to a human, certainly, but to a fae?

“So you weren’t always known for making deals?” I asked.

“No. In my youth, I didn’t see the point of them. Had no interest in the human realm. But for the past two hundred years, they’ve become my calling card. I sought out the humans I’d ignored before. I’d take anything they would trade, so long as I could convert it back into life force and channel it to my mother. It was what I needed to keep her always one step away from death. And I never had any trouble finding enough humans who wanted to make a deal.”

I reach my hand out, wrapping it around his. With this new insight, it was easy to put myself in his shoes. I remember when Mom started to get sick, the way I pored over her books, spoke to every medicine woman I could find, in the hopes of uncovering a way to help her. I was frantic, especially when it became clear Dad had already given up. Soon I was swallowed up by a bottomless desperation that still haunts me now. I was convinced there had to be an answer; there always was.

What if I’d found one? I’d never considered a deal with Blackcoat at the time—the consequences always seemed too unpredictable. For all I knew, the trickery of fae deals could mean I just ended up losing Mom in another way or made someone else in my life sick. But what if I found out that other people could save her, and all it required was persuading them to agree to a deal? A deal that might hurt them eventually, but that they wanted, all the same. It would be unscrupulous, maybe, perhaps selfish, but utterly understandable. Ruskin has already explained to me that the fallout humans experience from these deals is more often than not just the nature of the magic itself, or them being careless with the terms of their bargain. It’s not the vindictive revenge I’d assumed once upon a time. At least, not from him.

I know, without a doubt, I would’ve done the same.

“You have to know, I didn’t just do it for me,” he says. He’s not looking me in the eye, but staring into the flames, running ahead with his explanation like he thinks he still needs to convince me. “It was for the court and the kingdom. It was lost without her, I could see that. For a while, it seemed like there’d even be war. I was a poor substitute, and that meant she had to survive. I didn’t know what would happen to Faerie without her.”

Personally, I think Ruskin is a better leader than he gives himself credit for. The Seelie Kingdom might be threatened now, but it’s from forces beyond his control.

Ruskin’s shoulders are tense, stiffened by the memory of the desperation he must have felt all those years as he watched a parent barely clinging to life. I remember it vividly, how it was like you were being hunted without a moment to stop for breath. It doesn’t leave you easily. Ruskin lived with that sensation for two centuries, and Evanthe has only been awake for a matter of weeks.

“You did it, Ruskin, you saved her,” I say, massaging the knot between his shoulder blades. I press on it with the pad of my fingers, relishing the closeness. “You don’t have to fight that battle anymore.”

“We did it,” he says, meeting my gaze at last. He takes my other hand, so that I’m forced to twist towards him, sitting opposite, face to face.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he says, looking at me like I’m a light in the darkness, a sun in what had seemed to be an eternal night.

I may not know if we can return to what we once were, but after opening up, I can finally see that he needs me. I need him too, in my way. I realize that that’s good enough for me, knowing that at least I know the shape of secrets between us now, even if we haven’t banished them. And maybe… maybe I’m not thinking straight, but this is enough to make me take the leap.

I lean forward and kiss him.

Chapter 23

Idon’t think I’ll ever get tired of kissing Ruskin, the way his lips respond to me, springing into action, devouring me up. It’s like he’s answering the question I’m asking without me needing to say a word: Yes, I will sate your hunger.

His hands drop to my hips, then my ass, half lifting me into his lap—an invitation for us to be closer, body against body. But it isn’t enough—I want to feel all of him, beneath me, on top of me. I want him to fill up my senses, so I stand, taking his hand and pulling him towards the tent.

He quirks an eyebrow, hesitation shining through the fierce desire in his eyes.

“Are you sure this is this what you want?” he asks. His voice is tight, like he’s holding himself on a leash he wants desperately to snap.

I could answer his question in a million different ways, but the time for words is past. Instead, I just smile. “Come.”

We stumble into the tent, hitting the soft bank of pillows with a muted thud. I laugh against Ruskin’s lips, high on the feeling of him, on the chance to claim back his body as mine. My heart thumps hard inside my chest, like a war drum, and I let the sound of it drown out my thoughts.

Desire burns me up like a flame as I pull his clothes off him, running my hands over his broad shoulders. I want to slow down, to enjoy every inch of his body and take my time with it, but I can’t. I’ve waited too long.

“That laughter won’t last for long,” he growls, playfully nipping at my jaw.

“No?” I gasp, air already strained from how much I want him.

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