Page 59 of The King of Frost and Shadows

“If you tried for respect, that might work better.” That was the one thing I didn’t understand about him. Why did he want to rule by fear?

“What do you mean?” His brows pulled together. “I demand respect all the time. The best way to ensure people don’t act out is by having severe and absolute consequences.”

“Like giving an animal nightmares or worse?” I already knew the answer, but I wanted to lead him down a path, so he realized it himself.

“Of course.” He nodded curtly.

I rolled my eyes and patted Nightbane’s head before settling back on my pillow. “That’s ruling by fear. Your people don’t respect you. They just don’t want you to kill them.”

He shrugged. “Either way, they obey and listen. I don’t care how or why.”

“But you’d have more loyalty from them if you tried to understand them and helped to find actual solutions that prevent the need to constantly scare and control them.”

He scoffed and leaned back. “I’m trying to find a solution to our problem, but the current answer has backfired. That particular solution is lying next to me in bed, making me reconsider everything.”

The corners of my mouth tipped upward, and I tried to hide my smirk as I settled into the pillow, getting comfortable, though I was wide awake. I didn’t want to close my eyes and risk reliving the death and destruction from the gauntlet all over again. Whatever relationship was developing between Tavish and me was comforting, and at least I didn’t have to fear him killing me anymore. After today, there was no doubt that everyone would team up against me in the second gauntlet. They hadn’t been worried about me before, but by killing one of their own, I’d moved myself up on their priority list. “Don’t worry. I suspect others will handle your problem in the next game.” I tried to sound light, but my voice came out raspy. I didn’t want to die, but there wasn’t any way to escape either.

“That’s not funny, Lira.” His features turned stony, back to the man I was most familiar with. “Finnian is coming to train with you tomorrow. That’s one reason you need to get more rest. You need to get more comfortable wielding weapons.”

I swallowed. I did need more training, there was no doubt, but going back to sleep was the more imminent problem. The memory of the man’s death was still so fresh that if I closed my eyes for a moment too long, the image reappeared. I stared up at the glass ceiling. The darkness was pulled back more than ever, and I could actually see twinkling dots of pink and purple that reminded me of stars and the moon shining high. It might have been peaceful if I could have found calm within me.

“Is the next game troubling you?” he asked, and his hand brushed against mine, my skin buzzing from the touch.

Some of my tension ebbed, but not the horror of what I’d done. “I wish that were the problem.” The future mighthover over me like a threat, but the past was anchoring me down, and I felt like I was drowning. Then, the next words tumbled out before I could take them back. “I killed a man tonight. How can someone get over that?”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Not only had Tavish killed probably tens, if not hundreds of people, but he’d killed multiple people just because I was here. Though I didn’t relish it, I also didn’t carry guilt; I didn’t want to be here. Tavish had forced me to come, and I hadn’t done anything to deserve their violence against me.

He turned toward me, propping his head up on his arm so I could only see half his face over the pile of pillows. “Blighted abyss,” he groaned, removing his hand from mine and tossing the pillows beside him so that nothing remained between us.

My eyes burned, but I giggled at the ridiculousness of the situation.

He inhaled, and his irises lightened, causing my heart to pound in my chest.

“Are you okay?” The intensity with which he stared at me made my voice barely a whisper.

“I forgot what that sounded like.” He reached over and tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. “As a young boy, I always loved the sound of your laughter.”

Loved.

The word had my chest expanding, which was absurd. It wasn’t as if he’d proclaimed his love for me … just my laugh. Still, my face warmed. “Uh … then—” I cut myself off before I finished the word.Never thank or apologize to a fae.

He dropped his hand between us. If I moved my arm just an inch, we’d be touching again.

“The first kill is always the worst.” Darkness edged around him as if to hide part of himself from me. “But youneed to realize he was going to killyou. This isn’t Earth, sprite. In this realm, it’s kill or be killed. There’s no in-between. You protected yourself so you could live another day. And I need you to do it again, even after the gauntlet … even if it’sme.”

The air buzzed between us, and understanding weighed heavily on me. He hadn’t just given me permission—he’d encouraged me to fight him if he attempted to take my life. “Are you—”

“Stop.” He shook his head sternly. “Don’t ask questions. I said what I meant, and I need you to remember that. Finnian is the second-best swordsman among all the Unseelie, beyond me … even better than Finola and Torcall. If you stop fighting the training and open yourself up, your memories may come back, along with your magic.”

I nodded as Nightbane settled at my feet. The bottoms of my feet pressed into his side, and his body warmed them until I realized they’d actually been cold. Huh, maybe I was getting used to the cold temperatures around here. “I’m not sure how regaining my memories will help in battle, but I wouldn’t be opposed to having my magic and wings.”

“You are the Seelie princess.” Instead of bitterness, a faint smile tugged at his mouth, making him appear more like a breathtaking man instead of a godlike statue. “You were trained to fight, including with slings, swords, and daggers, by the best in your lands, beginning at the tender age of five. That’s when you were able to access your magic and fly.”

That had to be why I felt comfortable using the sling. He was right; maybe I was overthinking everything and holding myself back. “Still, that means I’ll be expected to kill more people, and I’m not sure I can. They have people who love them.”

“You want to believe there is good in these people, but there isn’t,” he said, and his fingertips touched my arm.

That was the second time he’d touched me, not including the way he’d tucked my hair behind my ear, which created two gigantic problems. I enjoyed each brush more than the last, and I didn’t want him to stop. I was setting myself up for heartbreak and ruin, but I couldn’t find it in myself enough to care. Who knew how many more stolen moments like this we’d share?

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