“Love,” he said doubtfully. “Their version of love is twisted.”
“It’s not the gentle, comforting kind of love. They worship the ash goddess. Their love is a forge that burns them and everyone around them. It’s the kind of love that makes a mother throw her child off the side of a castle to see if she can fly.”
“Is that love?” Torin sounded disbelieving. “It sounds like Moria’s father putting her outside in a cage to make her strong.”
“Maybe.” I sat up and stretched my arms over my head. “But she was a little girl, and I’m supposed to be a warrior. I still don’t know if Mab wanted Morgant to fly after me to keep me safe, or if he did that himself. But I suppose nothing there happens without her consent, does it? It all worked out like she hoped, and she took the curse away. Now she can have what she wants, a Dark Cromm heir on the throne of Faerie.”
“You’re not going to convince me to be grateful to her.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” A phantom breeze rippled over us, carrying with it the scent of apples. I licked my lips, considering another one. “Those apples are surprisingly addictive, Torin.”
His pale blue eyes lifted to the tree that arched above his room. “Yes. They’re called Blood of the Avon apples. They’re bright red, named after the brutal battle of the Avon River between the Seelie and Unseelie centuries ago. We nearly wiped each other out. The apples hardly ever grew in our kingdom because of the curse. They need exactly the right temperature and sunlight, and the soil must be fed with blood. And if not, they grow up twisted and thorny.”
“Hang on. What?”
He stroked his hand down my hair. “Ava, I think I know why Finvarra banished Modron. ”
I blinked, trying to rid myself of the image of Torin carrying a bucket of blood into his bedroom. “Because she was a living nightmare?”
“The legends were that once, the Seelie and Unseelie lived in these lands together. And among them lived a set of twins, old as the earth itself. Cala and Modron. I’ve also heard that King Finvarra had a taste for Unseelie women, and he kept giving his mistresses more favors. More land and titles. I think Modron told everyone his business. Showed them, even, what happened behind the king’s closed doors. So Finvarra banished her, and a war broke out between the two factions.”
“Aren’t you directly related to him?” I asked. “A taste for Unseelie women must run in the blood.”
“I don’t have a taste for Unseelie women. Just you.”
I wrapped my arm around his waist. “Do you think the Seelie will ever accept someone like me?”
“It will take time. Even I’m still shocked at the idea that the Seelie and demons belong together.”
“You’re never going to stop calling me demon, are you?”
“Sorry, changeling.” A fingertip stroked up my horn, sending hot shivers through my body.
“I don’t know if Seelie and demons belong together. But you and I belong together. I’m just not sure your subjects will agree.”
“They will. When everyone understands the curse is gone for good, and that you helped save the kingdom, they won’t care if you have wings or horns. People just want to feed their families and keep them safe. If we give it a few months, they will love you as I do.” His eyes danced in the sunlight, and a wicked smile curled his lips. “Well, not exactly as I do.”
A smile spread over my lips.
When I’d first arrived in this place, I’d thought them all ruthless and powerful as gods. And they were. But a person—even a fae—was like these Blood of Avon trees. They could be delicious and beautiful, even if fed on blood. But if you miss out on important elements that they need to thrive, they grow up twisted and thorny.
I swallowed hard. I’d heard how Moria had been kept in a cage. That Milisandia was the only person who’d ever shown her an ounce of kindness. Once her sister died, the rot began to set in.
I slid my fingertips under Torin’s shirt and skimmed them over his tattoos. It was only this morning—just this morning as dawn broke—that I’d thought to never see him again. Before that, in the dungeon of the Court of Shadows, I’d been certain his heart would never beat again.
And here we were, limbs entwined.
This was where I belonged. Here, in Faerie, the smoke rose from the ruins of an ancient war. Peace reigned, even if nightmares would plague us for a while.
The fae had been tempered in the fires of a mountain goddess to live lives that were wild and incandescent. But we didn’t need bloodshed. The Unseelie lived for duty, the Seelie for pleasure.