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“I can’t believethis is the best tech they have available,” Nathan grumbles beside me. He is clipping a black walkie-talkie to his belt, the twin to the one that I’m currently holding in my hand. He spent the past half-hour turning it over in his hand, seemingly in disbelief that these existed.
“These are high-tech for the North,” I remind him again. Last night, as we lay together in bed, sated in every way possible, he ranted about the analog clock on the wall for an hour. I hadn’t even noticed it, but apparently, it was offensively ancient to Nathaniel.
After having pulled apart everything wrong with the clock, he had moved on to dissecting the flip-phone, followed by the VHS player in our room.
“You’re older than the walkie-talkies,” I say as I pull on my white knee-high boots. I’m perched on the side of our bed, staring at him as he leans against the bathroom door. These boots are lovely and warm, trimmed with blue fur and styled to match the rest of my outfit. “Don’t you remember using these as a youngling?”
He snorts. “Darling, you wouldn’t believe the tech we use in the Summer Court. I’ll show it to you one day. It puts human technology to shame.”
“It’s a deal,” I say, and shiver as the magic seals the promise between us. I glance up and smile when I catch his eye. His pupils darken, and I see his gaze sweeping over me. “Nathan,” I warn, “we don’t have time. They’re waiting for us.”
He walks over and pulls me up from the bed, wrapping his arms around me before pulling me in for an intense embrace. When he releases me, he brushes his nose over mine. “I just wanted to make sure you don’t forget about me,” he says.
I shake my head. “Haven’t you learned by now? I haven’t forgotten about you since we first met on the docks. You’ve haunted me ever since that day.”
“What can I say?” he says, jokingly. “I’m just that handsome of a Fae.” He ducks out of the door, laughing, as the pillow I launch from the bed slams with a soft thud into the door. “Now, now, Princess. No time for this. Let’s go.”
Chuckling as I open the door, I launch a snowball at him before running down the stairs. He growls, chasing me out into the snow. “I’m going to get you back for that.”
I laugh.
It feels good.
Chapter47
Two Blue Eyes
NATHANIEL
Ilook out the window while the group meets in the next room. I am giving Elva some time to sort through the plan I had beenbrieflybriefed on. She had insisted that I be there with her, helping her to take the throne that is rightfully hers.
The resistance will head in first, clear a path for us to follow, and lead us to where my new father-in-law is being kept. It sounded good. Their intelligence seems solid, and the maps are easy to follow. After a few years of working in Port City, I know my way around an excellent strategy.
After the meeting, Calitha dragged Elva away, and I have been here ever since.
Before I realized I had been brooding, the sun had finished setting behind the misty, snow-capped mountains. As much as I hate the lack of TV, phones, or music, I notice that going “off the wire,” as Elva puts it, actually does wonders for my concentration.
I stare out the window at the Winter Court and repeatedly remind myself that this will be Elva’s domain, her court to rule. I will be alongside her.
And I feel like an utter imposter. The resistance members regard me warily and somewhat reverently as the person who has killed some powerful and nasty players in their game.
They don’t know it has much to do with adrenaline and sheer dumb luck.
Even landing Elva… I am the luckiest bastard in the world. In reality, I am better suited to buy a bridge somewhere and set up shop as a troll tricking people out of their hard-earned cash.
In fact, that almost sounds better than becoming the consort to this place.
The problem is that Elva holds my heart in her hands. She has the power to break me in half as I’ve gone hollow with all the trust and openness I’ve poured into her, and, instead, she has filled me up. The cold focuses me, the open air centers me, and Elva grounds me.
If my heart has a face, it is hers.
That sense of being an imposter burrows itself under my skin, even though I know she trusts me. Even though I have come so far.
I am staring out the window for endless hours because I just don’t know what to do with that.
I don’t know how to walk around after having reached into my chest, torn out my heart, and presented it in a gilded box to the lethal Winter Fae with swirling tattoos.
An icy hand trails across my shoulders and slides down my arm to meet my hand. Each touch is an electric current.
