He poured the boiling water from the kettle into the small teapot Aislinn had found for him in some shop.When she was a mortal. Seth pushed that thought away. She wasn’t mortal. She wasn’t going to be ever again. Waiting for things to get better wasn’t good enough. Things could stay as they were, or they could move forward.

Seth sat down across from his friend. “Even Tracey is stronger than I am.”

“You’re a mortal.” Niall held his still empty cup. “If you hadn’t lost your charm—”

“I didn’t lose it.”

“Point.” Niall took the teapot and poured their cups. “It’s difficult I’m sure…”

“You have no idea.” Seth’s snort of laughter even sounded bitter to him. “You’ve neverbeen human. You’re all so damn perfect, so strong, so…everything. That’s what Ash needs.”

“Don’t go there,” Niall cautioned. “Nothing you could follow that with is wise.”

“What would have happened if Aobheall was in a different mood?”

“The girls didn’t mean you harm. Not really. If Ash wasn’t so distracted right now—” Niall stopped himself. “If you need out of our world, I will help you. Maybe you should consider going.”

“That isn’t what I want.” Seth sipped his tea. He felt like Aislinn was slipping away, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to stay in her world as a mortal. She didn’t call him when she was hurt because he was too vulnerable. The conflict between the courts was growing. It felt like he needed out or in; being halfway between worlds wasn’t a viable plan.

Seth sat his cup down and told Niall, “I want to be a faery.”

Niall looked appalled. “No, you don’t.”

Seth poured another cup of tea. “I’m not interested in dying or in leaving her. I’m not strong enough to stand against the weakest faeries. I can’t resist a glamour…I need to be a faery.”

Niall stared at him. “This is a bad plan, my friend. Trust me.”

Seth paused then.My friend. A faery’s use of such terms was a gift, not done lightly, not to be ignored. “I value your friendship, Niall, and I trust you completely. That’s not at question.”

Niall’s tense expression relaxed a bit.

Then Seth continued, “But I won’t change my mind just because you disagree. You know me better than that. Help me?”

Niall got up and paced. “I’m tempted. Despite knowing it would be selfish of me, despite knowing it would destroy you if I helped you do this thing, despite how much I care for you…I’m still tempted.”

“You’re losing me.” Seth dumped the ashtray he’d set out for Niall. He might accept his friend’s smoking, but the stench of cigarette butts disgusted him. “Explain.”

“Two courts can work together to create a curse like Irial and Beira did—but I won’t curse you. The only other choice is going through Sorcha, and there would be a cost there as well.”

“What kind of cost?”

“With Sorcha? Probably my becoming a bit mortal, you becoming a bit twisted…Balance. Exchange. That’s her deal.” Niall paused; his stillness seemed almost as jarring as his pacing had been. “She could shift essences. I would assume some of your mortality, making me unfit to be Dark King. I would be done with the burden that Irial foisted off onto me, and you would assume some of my…nature.”

“So you win. You get out of here, and I get to—”

“No.” Niall walked to the sink and rinsed his cup.

“It’s my choice,” Seth said.

“History is filled with people rushing into disaster for love of one sort or another. My history is filled with the results of such deplorable choices.” Niall walked to the door. He looked haunted and strangely afraid of Seth.

“So you made mistakes; that doesn’t mean I would.”

“Not me, Seth. The people whose lives I ruined.” Niall opened the door. “I won’t be a part of your mistake. Enjoy the time you have with Ash, or move on. Those are your only choices.”

Seth sat staring at the door after Niall left.My only choices. Neither of those choices was good enough—but Niall had given Seth another choice.

Sorcha. The High Queen is the answer.

Now Seth just needed to find her.

Chapter 16

The commotion at the door was to be expected. Donia felt the waves of heat pulsing against her from the pew where she sat just inside the entryway. Across from her, on the seats and backs of other church pews, faeries waited attentively. It wasn’t quite popcorn-at-the-movies, but it wasn’t far from it. Sasha wasn’t there; such amusements were befuddling to the wolf. The faeries, however, were rapt.

“Iwill come in,” Keenan repeated for the third time.

“Unless my queen consents, you willnot .” The rowan stood before the door, as imposing and resolute as he had been when he guarded Donia under Keenan’s command. None of them had forgotten that he had once pledged his fealty to the same Summer King to whom he was denying entry.

“Don’t force me to do this, Evan.”

Evan didn’t flinch, although Donia did. The idea of Evan being hurt filled her with fear. If it wouldn’t undermine Evan’s authority, if it wouldn’t undermine her own, she’d tell him to stand down, but letting Keenan walk in freely when she’d ordered otherwise was unacceptable. If she didn’t intend to speak to him, she would call reinforcements, but that too was unacceptable. She needed to talk to him, but he needed to grasp that her door was not open to him. The implied statement of only token resistance, the insult of having only one guard—of that guard especially—at the door would not be lost on Keenan.

It was, like so much in Faerie politics, a game of sorts.

Once more Evan objected, “She has been clear that you are to be stop—”

The thud and hiss of burned wood was startling, albeit also inevitable. The door was completely incinerated. Evan was charred, but not fatally so.It could’ve been much worse. The Summer King could’ve started with violence instead of giving Evan the chance to back down. He could’ve killed Evan. He hadn’t. His restraint was a gift of sorts to her.