Page 20 of The Red Woman and the White Bear

Rodney’s directions to the night garden would take her around the back side of the obsidian structure that concealed the entrance to the Undercastle and over the ridge of a hillock dotted with naked, twisted blackthorn trees. The garden, hidden there, bloomed only in the silver wash of moonlight. Even before she crested the knoll Aisling could smell the flowers, sweeter than anything she expected to encounter in theUnseelie Court.

It was unkempt and overgrown, a darkly wild beauty that drew her down a narrow path that cut through its center. Though not alive, as the Shadowwood Mother’s thicket had been, the garden was possessed by a magic of its own. The tiny white petals of night jasmine shone like pearls, and ivory moonflowers unfurled on slender stems that swayed as she passed. Ahead, large, trumpet-shaped flowers hung down from a low tree like pale lanterns in the darkness. The blossoms were veined with intricate patterns that shimmered a soft turquoise. Aisling reached up to stroke one of the petals with her finger, but a hand around her wrist stopped her short.

“I wouldn’t.” Kael had appeared from out of the darkness, approaching on footfalls lighter and more silent than the vespertine breeze. A trait befitting of a predator. He stood behind Aisling now, chest nearly against her back, and had reached around her to catch her just an inch from the bloom. “Angel’s trumpet. Quite poisonous.”

Aisling turned to look up at the king, who glowed just as the flowers around them, as regal as he was ethereal. Her breath caught slightly. He heard it. “Thank you.”

His moonbeam eyes played over her skin and the corner of his lips pulled up into the barest smirk. “So you’ve returned.”

“So I have,” she said, regaining her composure.

He offered her his arm from beneath a cloak of midnight blue. “Walk with me, pixie.”

Resting her hand in the crook of his elbow, Aisling let Kael lead her deeper into the garden. He pointed out various flora as they walked, most of them in some way poisonous. The blooms hadn’tbeen maintained for a reason: in the shadows, their dangerous nature was allowed to flourish unchecked, a reflection of the Fae that had planted them. It was a stark reminder to Aisling of why she was there in the first place.

“You enjoyed Nocturne?” he asked.

“Very much. I’ve not been to such an extravagant celebration in a long time.” Aisling imagined that her pixie self would prefer smaller, more intimate affairs.

“I’m pleased it was to your liking.” Kael’s other arm was outstretched, running his fingers through the leaves of a thick shrub. “Though I know of one satyr who was particularly disappointed in how the night ended.”

So he had noticed.Each facet of Rodney’s plan had been executed without fail, every outcome predicted flawlessly. He’d be glad to hear it. “I think I made the right choice,” she replied.

The night seemed to stretch endlessly around them as they walked. The garden’s saccharine smell and the way Kael kept her arm pinned close to his body was nearly enough to make Aisling’s head spin.

“Have you come to tell me your name?” The way he asked wasn’t prodding or intrusive; rather, it was intimate. Something that he hoped she would share with him. A gift. Kael pulled her to stop beside a crystalline pond and took both of her hands in his own.

“Aisling,” she whispered up at him.

He repeated it once, then again, as she had in private with his. “A pretty name for a pretty faerie.”

“Will youtell me yours?”

Instead of answering right away, Kael moved his hands to Aisling’s hips and walked her backward until she was pressed against the trunk of a tree. Its bark was rough against the pointed blades of her shoulders and would likely have scraped uncomfortably against her wings if she could have felt them, but she hardly noticed. His presence, his magnetism, overwhelmed her. Vaguely aware that she was meant to be the one in control, Aisling considered turning to push him up against the tree, instead.

But there was no harm in letting herself enjoy this position for a moment.

Kael reached up to caress Aisling’s cheek softly with cool fingers, a mockery of affection that stilled her heart and halted her breathing for a brief second before she met his gaze and realized the cruel intent that glinted in his eyes. He smiled down at her, a dark, twisted thing that drew a slow-rolling chill up her spine and raised the fine hair at the base of her skull. No longer the seductive, enigmatic King; this was the monster Rodney had warned her of.

Then, quicker than her mind could register, his arm was against her throat, crushing her windpipe and pinning her to the tree. Aisling’s skin pulled and burned as he roughly shredded the glamour she wore, leaving her raw and exposed in her own skin, her own clothes. Without that thin layer of protection, she could feel the garden’s magic grating against her like sand in the wind.

Aisling gasped for breath, her hands clawing at Kael’s forearm in a futile attempt to free herself. He was too strong. Panic surged through her veins as she stared into the unyielding face of the Unseelie King. Waves of hatred rolled off of him, thick and tangible.

“Who are you, human, to think you could make a fool of me?” His words came as a deep, unearthly growl as he lowered himself so that the two were face to face, foreheads nearly touching.

“I’m no one, truly,” she rasped. Fear tightened her throat even further beneath his arm.

“Not Aisling?” He spat her name this time, like acid.

“I am Aisling, but I’m no one.” She was at a loss for words as she struggled to breathe under the pressure he kept on her windpipe. Her voice came out hoarse and her shallow breaths were noisy and ragged. Her vision was beginning to darken around the edges. Kael held her there for a second longer before he released his hold on her throat and stepped back. Aisling fell to her knees on the soft earth at his feet, gasping wildly with the effort of dragging air back into her lungs.

“You’ve made a grave error in coming here. Truly unwise, though I’d expect nothing less from a human,” he said disdainfully. When Aisling looked up at him, he was staring at her as though she were an insect he would crush under the heel of his boot.

“Send me back,” she begged. Desperation was roiling in her stomach, rising in her throat and making her eyes sting with hot tears. “You’ll never see me again.”

Kael’s predatory smirk grew. He was delighted by Aisling’s distress. He reveled in it, drank it up as fuel for that vicious fire that burned within his chest. “I think not. It is a pity, really. You were a rather fun plaything.”

A deep flush of shame spread across Aisling’s cheeks. “Fuck you,” shethrew back.

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