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Niall pulled Seth in for a brief one-armed hug. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you still have both eyes.”
As Seth stepped away, he shook his head. “Next time? Direct the bastard thing elsewhere.”
“Or what?”
“Seriously?” Seth grinned. “I had a little time to think while I was in my cage. . . . The voice of reason is pretty lacking on this side of the veil, and unless my mother and the Shadow Court decide to remove the veil, you all might need to have the occasional reminder here.”
“You declaring yourself a king, little brother? Bit presumptuous, isn’t it?” Niall’s tone was more curious than anything.
“I watched you become more balanced when I came to you, and when I decided to do . . . whatever it took to balance you, I felt it. I felt you, Niall. I hung in the cage where you put me, and I watched Bananach come into your court and take it from you, and I accepted the inevitable.” Seth understood the rightness of what he’d had to do, but part of him mourned it. “I am Sorcha’s heir. I’m the only faery in the mortal world who can be your balance. I am the Order to your Darkness.”
“So you’re what? The King of Order?” Niall watched him with a mixture of pride and sorrow.
“No. I’m not king of anything. I suspect I’ll get enough of court structure and pomp in Faerie.” Seth rolled his eyes at the thought of trying to be a king. “I’m your balance, though.”
Niall smiled.
Seth continued, “It wouldn’t be bad to have the solitary fey know there’s someone they can talk to if any of you all get stupid again. My two brothers head the Dark Court and the Shadow Court. My mother is High Queen. My”—Seth glanced over to where Aislinn and Tavish talked—“Ash is the Summer Queen. I can see the future; I can go between the two worlds; and I can reason with the faeries I love, the faeries who are family, and the faeries I call friends.”
The expression on Niall’s face became utterly unreadable. “You think you could stand up to her? No conflict of interest—”
“You’re sharing your house with Discord,” Seth reminded him. “And I’ll be damned if I believe he’s not going to play favorites.”
The faery in question walked past Seth. “Well, seer, luckily your future sight wouldn’t encourage you to play favorites, sacrifice people, gamble with courts. . . .” Irial paused and withdrew a cigarette case and lighter from Niall’s pocket. He extracted a cigarette, glanced at Seth, and drawled, “Say, like letting me die for your agenda.”
Silently, Niall took the cigarette from Irial, lit it, and inhaled.
Seth shrugged. “Who’s to say I didn’t see the end result? You’re not addictive to mortals. Either of you. You’re back at odds, where you like to be. Bananach’s dead . . . and Leslie is sitting in your house, where all three of you hope she will eventually stay.”
At their stunned expressions, Seth paused. “Of course, there were other outcomes that were a lot less positive for you, but . . . a lot of things worked out because of your death.”
“You may do all right at this balancing thing, boy.” Irial shook his head, and then turned his attention to Niall. “Our Shadow Girl waits at the house.”
“Leslie waits at our home,” Niall corrected.
And Discord smiled.
Seth smiled too as he watched them walk away. The threads he could see for the two faeries were woven tightly together, and in many of the possible futures, he saw
Leslie’s not-quite-mortal, not-quite-fey thread wrapped with theirs. She wasn’t anywhere near ready to stay with the Dark Court, but there were more than a few possible futures for her that brought her into a happy future with the two faeries who loved her and each other.
As he looked at their entangled futures, Seth felt a surge of envy. He wasn’t sure what the future held—if he was about to lose Aislinn, if he had an eternity of trying to accept her relationship with another faery—but he did know that he’d wasted time with Aislinn because of his fears.
No more.
He walked over to her, and with a comfort he hadn’t felt in months, he took her hand. Sunlight flared from her skin. She might not be his forever, but after what had just happened, she was going to be his tonight. Whether he was staying or going, he was going to spend tonight in her arms.
Chapter 40
After washing the signs of the fight away from both of them, the Winter Queen had tenderly lain Keenan in the bed they’d shared. She’d done everything she could to keep him safe, and it hadn’t worked.
It’s not fair to finally have a chance at forever together and have it taken away. She glanced at his motionless body again. Maybe we were never meant to have forever. She’d spent more than an hour of pacing anxiously. Now, she was alternating between weeping, stroking his face, and talking to him.
“You’re an idiot,” she whispered tearfully.
Finally, he opened his eyes and stared up at her; by then, she had moved on to stroking his hair and crying. She sat beside him on the edge of the bed, trying very hard not to bump him or let her cold tears fall on his bare chest and arms.
For a moment, he blinked at her. Then he asked, “Are you dead too?”
