With a comfort he rarely felt around the denizens of the Summer Court, Seth turned his back to the King of Nightmares and eyed the board. Home. Safe. The fact that Niall’s presence in his home of sorts only added to his sense of security was not lost on him.

“Cricket?”

“Sure.” Seth didn’t see the benefit in pretending he was up to playing something more serious. He wasn’t good enough to give Niall any challenge on his best days, but that wasn’t what throwing darts was about anyhow. It was a way to pass the time, a task for focus.

They played three games in almost complete silence, and even though he was obviously distracted, Niall won them all with his usual ease. When Niall had aimed and thrown his third and final dart, he said, “I hope you forgive better than you shoot.”

“What’s up?” Seth couldn’t stop the wave of worry that rose at the Dark King’s carefully neutral tone.

Niall spared him a glance as he retrieved his darts. “Unfinished business. Trust me.”

“I don’t want trouble.”

“I’m the Dark King, Seth, what trouble could there possibly be?” Niall grinned, finally looking almost happy. “They’re here.”

And for a heartbeat, Seth didn’t want to turn. He knew he’d see them—his girlfriend and his competition for her affection—when he turned. He didn’t like to see them together, but his self-control was short-lived. Even though it meant seeing her with Keenan, Seth couldn’t resist looking at her. He never could, even when she was mortal. Aislinn was smiling up at Keenan; she had a hand resting lightly in the crook of his arm. She’d begun to adopt more of the faeries’ formal mannerisms in public.

Niall spoke in a low undertone: “Don’t ever think he can be trusted. He counts the days until you are out of his way, and he has time on his side. I know you love our—the—Summer Queen, but yours is a losing battle, especially as you’re not fighting. Cut your losses before they destroy you, or fight back.”

“I don’t want to give up.” Seth looked at Ash. He’d thought the same thing more than a couple times lately. “But I don’t want to fight anyone.”

“Fighting is…” Niall started.

Seth didn’t hear the rest of the words: Aislinn had looked up and caught Seth’s gaze. She left Keenan and started across the room.

Casually, Keenan turned to talk to one of his guards as if her absence wasn’t painful. It is though. Seth knew that; he had studied the Summer King’s reactions, watched them change as winter ended. Keenan would keep Aislinn nearer him always if he could.

Just like I would.

Niall gave Seth a pitying look as Aislinn approached them. “You’re not listening at all, are you?”

All the air in Seth’s lungs seemed to vanish.

Is it her or what she is? He’d wondered that more and more. He’d never really done the relationship thing before Aislinn, so trying to figure out what was normal was a challenge. Was the escalation of fascination normal? Or was it because he was in love with someone who wasn’t human anymore? He’d done enough reading of old folk stories the past months to know that humans could rarely resist a faery’s allure.

Is that what’s happening to me?

But Aislinn was slipping into his arms then. When she brought her lips to his, he couldn’t care less about why he was fascinated by her, or if Niall’s warnings were true, or what Keenan intended. All that mattered was that he and Aislinn were together. Sunlight soaked into his skin as she wrapped her arms around him.

He held on to her tighter than he would’ve before—when she was human. He couldn’t grasp her tightly enough to ever hurt her, not now that she was faery.

Her hands slid up his spine, and she let a trickle of sunlight into her skin as she touched him. Such boldness in public was uncharacteristic.

He broke their kiss. “Ash?”

She pulled back a little more, and he shivered at the loss.

Like the sun being taken away.

“Sorry.” A light blush colored her cheeks.

He didn’t have any faith in his ability to formulate a sentence yet.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips.

“You too.” Seth promised. Always.

She nestled into his arms with a little sigh. She wasn’t a queen, wasn’t a faery, wasn’t anyone but his Aislinn then.

“You okay?”

“I am now.”

Not a minute later, though, she tensed. Although Aislinn couldn’t see Keenan, she obviously knew that he stood behind her. Whatever connection they had was growing stronger, and it wasn’t making life any easier.

For his part, Keenan’s expression hinted at confusions he wouldn’t voice. Aislinn’s residual humanity, her ability to switch from ruler to just a girl, seemed to baffle Keenan. Seth had watched him try to make sense of Aislinn’s refusal to distance herself from the human world. It was a strength: the people she saw benefiting from her dedication to rebuilding Summer’s strength inspired her to do more. But it was also a weakness: time with mortals reminded her of the unpleasant differences between mortal and fey and kept her aloof from her faeries. That distance was the source of a rift in the court, a vulnerability that caused more than a little rumbling.

Added to that were tensions from Aislinn’s refusal to be a “proper queen” and Keenan’s ongoing relationship with Donia; the court was stronger, but it was not healed.

Seth knew it would change with time—especially as the mortals Aislinn loved aged and died—but Keenan was openly dissatisfied by any weaknesses that could endanger Aislinn. The strengthening faeries’ frustrations with their monarchs’ choices made Keenan worry about what would happen as those faeries grew bolder. That worry for Aislinn was one of the few things that Seth appreciated about the Summer King. Keenan did treasure Aislinn. He wanted to keep her safe and happy.

He also wants to keep her to himself.

“You ought to step away, Keenan. I see what you’re doing. I’ve watched you play these games for centuries.” Niall’s voice was suddenly smoke and shadows. “Try thinking about what others need for a change.”

“I don’t believe what I do now is any of your business.” Keenan maneuvered so that he was farther from Aislinn and facing Niall. In doing so, the Summer King had put his back to the brick wall—assuring that no one could come up behind him.

“If you hurt Seth”—Niall shot a smile at Seth—“it will be.”

“He isn’t of your court.”

Derision dripping from his voice, the Dark King said, “Only an ass would think that matters. Leslie is lost to me. Your queen’s friend, and you let her be corrupted—”

“By the Dark Court, your court, Niall.” Keenan glanced at Aislinn, at Seth, at the various mortals in the room. In the dim alcove where they stood, the conflict wasn’t attracting any attention yet.

“It is my court, and with all I’ve learned from the two twisted kings I’ve loved and lived for, it won’t ever bow to yours. Don’t try me, Keenan.” Niall stalked toward Keenan, closing the distance, menace clinging to his skin. “Hurt Seth and you will answer to me.”

Keenan didn’t speak.

“Tell me you hold no ill will toward him, Keenan.” Niall’s voice had dropped to a low growl that Seth hadn’t known resided in his friend. Beside the Dark King, the abyss maidens took form and swayed; their bodies were tongues of black flame, twisting and undulating. Seth knew they were capable of devastation if let loose, but he wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. In a part of himself he tried to keep hidden, there was rage at Keenan and excitement at the thought that Niall would slap Keenan down. Which isn’t cool. Seth kept those urges in check these days. He’d worked hard at becoming the person he was now. He didn’t indulge in fights or one-night stands; he didn’t get stupidly drunk or set out to try things just because they were forbidden. He was calm—even when it wasn’t his instinctual reaction.