His hands were still restraining her, but he closed his eyes.

She thought she’d made her point. She thought of telling him that they wished things hadn’t happened as they had. She truly wanted peace between the courts. It was only a few heartbeats of hope and guilt, and before she could decide, he opened his eyes. The maw of the abyss watched her from inside him.

“You’re thinking like a mortal, Aislinn.” He licked his lips. “Or maybe you’re thinking like Keenan—flashy displays of power don’t intimidate me.”

She took a fumbling step backward, trying to pull away from him.

“Even if Seth wasn’t my friend, I wouldn’t try to seduce you. I would, however, reach out and break those delicate bones of yours.” He was chest-to-chest with her. “I am the Dark King, not some young pup to be impressed by a display of temper. I lived with Irial. I learned to fight alongside Gabriel’s Hounds.”

Niall squeezed until she felt how breakable she still was—to him, to another faery ruler.

Seth pressed against the shadows again. His hand was on the outside of the barrier. If he could force his way through it, he could touch her, but he couldn’t cross the shadows. The frustration on his face was awful to see. As she looked at him, fear plain on her face, Seth cursed. He shook Keenan, but the Summer King was unresponsive.

Several Hounds waited around Keenan. They neither helped nor interfered with Seth’s attempt to rouse him. Other Hounds stood at the door barring any faeries who tried to enter.

“You can be a good queen and a good person, Aislinn. Don’t let your belief in Keenan lead to hurting Seth, or I will exact the cost of every hurt you’ve been forgiven.” Niall released her and simultaneously lowered the wall.

She fell to the floor.

With seeming indifference, Niall walked past the mortal he’d been defending, past the king he’d once served, past his own faeries.

Seth stopped him. “What in the hell are you doing?” He felt the last bit of calm he’d worked so hard to build inside of him fleeing. “You can’t—”

“Seth. Don’t.” Niall gripped Seth’s arm. “The Summer Court needed a reminder that I am not theirs to command.”

“I’m not talking about the court. That’s Ash. You hurt Ash.”

“Listen very carefully.” Niall looked at Seth as he spoke, each word clipped and precise. “She is un-broken. Frightened, but that’s not a bad thing. If she were truly hurt, you’d be nursing her, not lashing out at me. You know that as well as I do.”

Seth had no answer to that. Arguing would be a lie, and—as he did with Aislinn—Seth tried to never lie to Niall.

Two shadow dancers pressed against Niall; their bodies were almost as tangible as living beings. One male stood behind Niall. His diaphanous body was extended, elongated so that his arms draped over Niall’s shoulders. His hands met over Niall’s ribs. The second shadow dancer was beside Niall; she held one hand flat over his heart, centered above the hands of the first shadow dancer. Absently, Niall reached up and caressed the entwined hands.

“She followed me,” Niall reminded him. “I am who I am, Seth. I spent centuries wearing the Summer Court’s leash. I won’t be anyone or anything other than myself again. I gave her the chance to walk away, and she threatened me.”

“Because you knocked out Keenan…”

Niall shrugged. “We all have choices to make. She chose to try me. I chose to point out her follies.”

“What you did was jacked up.”

“She is physically uninjured.” Niall frowned, but his voice softened. “I don’t want discord with you, my brother. I did what needed done.”

“Whatever happens. Whenever…” Seth knew he couldn’t ask for any promises. Aislinn had eternity as a faery queen, a ruler who didn’t exactly approve of Niall’s court. All Seth could say was, “I want her to be safe.”

“And Keenan?” Niall’s voice was emotionless. “Do you fault me for injuring him?”

Seth paused as he tried to find the words to answer. Niall waited, still but for the steady rise and fall of his chest under the hands of the shadow dancers. A few breaths later, Seth caught and held Niall’s gaze. “No. I want her safe. I want you safe. And I don’t want him to ever get away with manipulating or hurting either of you.”

Niall sighed in obvious relief, and the dancers vanished, retreating into whatever void they lived in. “I’ll do what I can. Go see to her.”

And Seth had to face her—his beloved, the one he couldn’t have saved, the one who was cradling someone else. She had been in danger, and he had been useless to her. What happens when it isn’t someone like Niall? What would I do if Niall had hurt her? He was mortal-weak.

Keenan wasn’t any help either, Seth reminded himself. The difference, of course, was that Keenan could go after Niall, and if he had been conscious, he would’ve done so when she was trapped.

Sometimes being human sucks.

“Are you sure you should move?” Aislinn cradled Keenan’s head in her lap. He seemed more embarrassed than injured, more upset than angry.

The imprint of her lips on his forehead and his cheeks glowed faintly in the dimness of the room. It made her feel guilty, this proof that she’d touched him. It wasn’t an intimate kiss. It wasn’t new. They’d discovered that her kiss healed him when she’d still been a mortal awaiting the test to be Summer Queen. But, in the wake of their recent kiss and in light of the shaming thoughts she’d had about him when she was captive to Niall, she felt embarrassed.

Keenan sat up and pulled away from her, forcing more distance between them than normal. “I don’t need coddling.”

“Are you okay? Dizzy?” she asked.

He sat on the floor beside her, but out of reach. He glared at Seth. “Seth must be thrilled.”

She froze. “Don’t do that. Don’t blame Seth for Niall’s anger.”

“Niall punched me for Seth.” He didn’t stand yet, and she was pretty certain it was because he wasn’t sure he could.

“And I went after Niall for you.”

Keenan smiled—cruelly. “Well, then.”

She glanced over at Seth, who had stopped midway across the room. He wasn’t likely to approach when he could tell that she and Keenan were arguing. He never treated her as anything less than an equal. “If you’d seen Niall…what he…when—”

Keenan was the one who froze this time. “When he what?”

“Niall is stronger than me.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If Niall wanted to hurt me, he could’ve. There wasn’t anything I could do to stop him.”

“Did he hurt you?” He was suddenly closer, running his hands over her arms, reaching toward her as if to pull her to him.

And I want him to. It was instinct. It was also unnecessary: she was fine.

“Stop. I’m bruised, but that’s all…and that was my fault as much as his.” She blushed. “I lost my temper. He tried to walk away, but you were hurt and I was…furious.”

She recounted what he’d missed.

“And what did you feel against the shadows?” Keenan’s tone wasn’t hurt or angry now. It was a challenge, the same challenge he’d raised in their prior conversation. “What did you lust for?”

She ducked her head. “That doesn’t…I’m not…telling you. That wasn’t real. It was just a result of some perversion of—”

The words stopped, lies unable to be spoken.

“What you feel for me is not a perversion, Aislinn. Is it so hard to admit that? Can’t you give me that much?” He pushed, as if hearing her say it would change anything, as if that admission mattered as much as the Dark King striking him, as if their personal situation was of tantamount importance.

It isn’t.

“You already know the answer to that—and it doesn’t change anything. I love Seth.” With that, she stood and crossed the room. She tried to tuck that whole uncomfortable topic away as she went toward Seth.