Название | Iron Fey |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Julie Kagawa |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon e-Book Collections |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781472094261 |
I scowled at him.
“I agreed to that contract, same as you,” I muttered, tying off the bandage with a jerk, but Ash didn’t even grunt. Angry now, I glared up at him, meeting his eyes. “What, you think just because I’m human I was going to back out? I knew what I was getting into, and I am going to uphold my end of the bargain, no matter what happens. And if you think I’d leave you just so I wouldn’t have to meet Mab, then you don’t know me at all.”
“It’s because you’re human,” Ash continued in that same quiet voice, holding my gaze, “that you missed a tactical opportunity. A Winter fey in your position wouldn’t have come back. They wouldn’t let their emotions get in the way. If you’re going to survive in the Unseelie Court, you have to start thinking like them.”
“Well, I’m not like them.” I rose and took a step back, trying to ignore the feeling of hurt and betrayal, the stupid angry tears pressing at the corners of my eyes. “I’m not a Winter faery. I’m human, with human feelings and emotions. And if you want me to apologize for that, you can forget it. I can’t just shut off my feelings like you can.”
I whirled to stalk away in a huff, but Ash rose with blinding speed and gripped my upper arms. I stiffened, locking my knees and keeping my back straight, but struggling with him would have been useless. Even wounded and bleeding, he was much stronger than me.
“I’m not ungrateful,” he murmured against my ear, making my stomach flutter despite itself. “I just want you to understand. The Winter Court preys on the weak. It’s their nature. They will try to tear you apart, physically and emotionally, and I won’t always be there to protect you.”
I shivered, anger melting away, as my own doubts and fears came rushing back. Ash sighed, and I felt his forehead touch the back of my hair, his breath fanning my neck. “I don’t want to do this,” he admitted in a low, anguished voice. “I don’t want to see what they’ll try to do to you. A Summer fey in the Winter Court doesn’t stand much of a chance. But I vowed that I would bring you back, and I’m bound to that promise.” He raised his head, squeezing my shoulders in an almost painful grip as his voice dropped a few octaves, turning grim and cold. “So you have to be stronger than they are. You can’t let down your guard, no matter what. They will lead you on, with games and pretty words, and they will take pleasure in your misery. Don’t let them get to you. And don’t trust anyone.” He paused, and his voice went even lower. “Not even me.”
“I’ll always trust you,” I whispered without thinking, and his hands tightened, turning me almost savagely to face him.
“No,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You won’t. I’m your enemy, Meghan. Never forget that. If Mab tells me to kill you in front of the entire court, it’s my duty to obey. If she orders Rowan or Sage to carve you up slowly, making sure you suffer every second of it, I’m expected to stand there and let them do it. Do you understand? My feelings for you don’t matter in the Winter Court. Summer and Winter will always be on opposite sides, and nothing will change that.”
I knew I should be afraid of him. He was an Unseelie prince, after all, and had in no uncertain terms admitted he would kill me if Mab ordered him to. But he also admitted to having feelings for me, feelings that didn’t matter, but it still made my stomach squirm when I heard it. And maybe I was being naive, but I couldn’t believe Ash would willingly hurt me, even in the Winter Court. Not with the way he was looking at me now, his silver eyes conflicted and angry.
He stared at me a moment longer, then sighed. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?” he murmured, closing his eyes.
“I’m not afraid,” I told him, which was a lie: I was terrified of Mab and the Unseelie Court that waited at the end of this journey. But if Ash was there, I would be all right.
“You are infuriatingly stubborn,” Ash muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how I’m going to protect you when you have no concept of self-preservation.”
I stepped close to him, placing a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat under his shirt. “I trust you,” I said, rising so our faces were inches apart, trailing my fingers down his stomach. “I know you’ll find a way.”
His breath hitched, and he regarded me hungrily. “You’re playing with fire, you know that?”
“That’s weird, considering you’re an ice prin—” I didn’t get any further, as Ash leaned in and kissed me. I looped my arms around his neck as his snaked around my waist, and for a few moments the cold couldn’t touch me.
THE NEXT MORNING, he was back to being distant and aloof, barely speaking to me no matter how much I prodded. That night, we reached the underground palace of the Winter Court, and Mab dismissed me almost immediately. A servant showed me to my quarters, and I sat in the small, chilly room waiting for Ash to find me again. He never returned from his meeting with the queen, and after several hours of waiting, I finally ventured into the halls of the Winter Court, looking for him. That’s when I found Tiaothin, or rather, she found me in the library, playing keep-away with a hulking Jack-in-Irons as he stalked me between the aisles. After getting rid of the giant, she informed me that Prince Ash was no longer in the palace, and no one had any idea when he would be back.
“But that’s just Ash,” she’d said, grinning at me from atop a bookcase. “He’s hardly ever at court. You catch a glimpse of him and poof! He’s gone for another few months.”
Why would Ash just leave like that? I wondered for about the billionth time. He could’ve at least told me where he was going, and when he’d be back. He didn’t have to leave me hanging.
Unless he was deliberately avoiding me. Unless everything he’d said, the kiss we’d shared, the emotions in his eyes and voice, meant nothing to him. Maybe everything he’d done was only to bring me to the Winter Court.
“You’re going to be late,” Tiaothin purred, jerking me back to the present, watching me with glowing cat eyes. “Mab doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
“Right,” I said faintly, shaken out of my dark mood. Oops, that’s right. I’ve got an audience with the Faery Queen of Winter. “Just give me a minute to change.” I waited, but when Tiaothin didn’t move, I scowled at her. “Uh, a little privacy, please?”
Tiaothin giggled, and in one shivery motion, became a shaggy black goat, who bounced out of the room on all fours. I shut the door and leaned against it, feeling my heart thud in my chest. Mab wanted to see me. The Queen of the Unseelie Court was finally calling on me. I shivered and pushed away from the door, walking to my dresser and the icy mirror on top.
My reflection stared back at me, slightly distorted by the cracks in the ice. Sometimes, I still didn’t recognize myself. My straight blond hair was almost silver in the darkness of the room, and my eyes seemed far too big for my face. And there were other things, a thousand little details I couldn’t put my finger on, that told me I wasn’t human, that I was something to be feared. And of course, there was the most obvious difference. Pointed ears knifed up from the sides of my head, a screaming reminder of how unnormal I was.
I broke eye contact with my reflection and looked down at my clothes. They were warm and comfortable, but I was pretty sure meeting the Queen of the Unseelie Court dressed in sweatpants and a baggy sweater was a bad idea.
Great. I’m supposed to meet the Queen of the Winter fey in five minutes. What do I wear?
Closing my eyes, I tried collecting the glamour around me and shaping it over my clothes. Nothing. The massive rush of power I’d drawn on while battling the Iron King seemed to have faded, so much that I couldn’t craft even the simplest illusion anymore. And not for lack of trying. Recalling my lessons with Grimalkin, a faery cat I’d met on my first trip to the Nevernever, I’d tried to become invisible, make shoes levitate and create faery fire. All failures. I couldn’t even