Page 87 of Flirting with Darkness

“Isn’t it dangerous? Fairy food,” I specify. “I remember a story saying just one taste, and mortals can’t go back home.”

Valdred shrugs. “You’re already stuck here.”

That’s true for the present—and the next year, unless I find the way out. And not eating for an entire year isn’t exactly an option either.

We help ourselves, piling up soft buns, handsome cuts and roulades, mushrooms, and something black yet foaming like a chocolate mousse on golden plates.

I note my plate is much fuller than his.

The first taste stuns me into speechless delight. My hunger might have something to do with my perception, but I can’t process how delicious everything crossing my mouth is. No wonder the fae are jealous of their food, if it tastes like this. The ingredients aren’t unfamiliar, but they’ve never been so rich, delicate, strong, and complex.

Valdred doesn’t stop his explanation as we eat, standing up.

“The high fae of her court were ruthless, hunting her and her lover down whenever they could get away with it without being recognized. It was only when their child was slain that she relinquished the crown. It passed down to the last queen’s closest living relative, a nephew from a seelie court.”

“Jaynus?” I glean.

The prince grimaces. “Now he’s enthroned, and the court’s regretting their course. Married to a lesser fae or not, Cissavna was truly unseelie, and raised to rule.”

He must mean Cissa from Night Hall. She called Jaynus a cousin. I can’t believe I’ve known her all this time without realizing she wasn’t a normal twenty-something girl like me.

“A greater part of the court seeks to remove Jaynus now. Some want Cissavna back, others are supporting another’s flimsy claim. Either way, Jaynus needs external support to keep his crown—and his head. He’s long wished it from the seelie seats. And we’ve decided the winter court isn’t our problem. Polaris should never have been ruled by a seelie.”

So, Jaynus’s position is precarious.

“Polaris,” I repeat.

“The winter court’s dwelling.” His voice drops to a whisper. “I wouldn’t go around saying it out loud, though. The folk don’t like to share the names of their lands. Knowing a true name gives you power over a thing.”

I shut my lips obligingly, and gesture to show I intend to keep my mouth closed and throw away the key.

Valdred grins. “You are a charming thing, pet.”

So is he, especially compared to my captor.

“Would he give me to you?” I ask impulsively. “If you asked.”

I don’t miss the glint in Valdred’s eyes when his golden eyes lock on mine. “You’d wish that, would you?”

My entire face is on fire. I nod, because though I know him as well as Jaynus—which is to say, not at all—I don’t doubt that he’s much kinder. That he wouldn’t hurt me. He’d perhaps even free me if he could.

“He would,” Valdred admits. “But not at a price I’m prepared to pay.”

So much for that.

12

AEDRON

Poor little lamb, who never saw the wolf until his teeth were around her neck. Poor, sweet, innocent flower ripped out in her early bloom.

It’s her fault, really. She’s a beacon of light in the darkness, shining unabashedly. She should have hidden. She shouldn’t ever have taken a step into Ilvaris.

But she’s here.

I recognize her at first glance, though few would. They were either too young, too old, or not yet born in the old days. They wouldn’t remember those eyes. They wouldn’t remember the waves of her hair. They wouldn’t remember the softness of her mouth. To them, Morrigan is a far memory, long forgotten—more of a myth than a woman. But I knew this day was coming, so I remembered.

She’s called Darina, this prey—at least that’s the name Valdred whispers when he offers to take her to the rut.

---