Ambrosia (Frost and Nectar Book 2)
Ambrosia: Chapter 3

Starlight streamed through the tree branches as we followed the river down the slope. The more we walked, the more it seemed as if we were approaching some kind of civilization. Between gnarled trunks, ruined stone arches appeared, covered over with climbing red flowers.

Torin walked behind me, and I stole a few glances at his bare-chested, athletic form. The moonlight seemed to shine off his spiky tattoos, making them look like blades. A little part of me appreciated that he was here, making sure I was safe. Another, much larger part of me rebelled at the fact that he would probably be leaving to marry someone else. He needed a queen, and it wasn’t like I was an option anymore.

The thought of him sitting on his repaired throne with someone like Moria at his side…

I wasn’t raised in these worlds, fed on the enmity between the kingdoms. What was the point of dragging out mutual hatred over millennia?

I glanced at him again, feeling a crack in my heart when I took in his physical perfection. “Who will you marry?” Not sure why I asked when I didn’t really want to know.

“Who I marry doesn’t really matter, Ava. The main thing is that I need to return and fix my throne as soon as possible. Without my throne intact, I have no power whatsoever,” he said quietly. “Maybe Moria or Cleena. Either of them would be perfect. Though frankly, I suspect that my greatest love of all will always be myself. And can you blame me, changeling—”

I whirled, interrupting him when I pressed my hand to his chest. “Not Moria. She hates you. She blames you for killing her sister.”

“I did kill her sister.”

“Why?”

“Her name was Milisandia, and I buried her in the Temple of Ostara.” He took a deep breath. “It was an accident that I have regretted every day since. I haven’t been able to tell anyone until now. Only my sister knew.” His sorrowful blue eyes searched mine. “I killed her, Ava.”

I stared at him, my heart twisting. I wasn’t sure he’d understood that Moria was unhinged and dangerous. She’d murdered Alice, for fuck’s sake. “Torin, I don’t think she believes it was an accident.”

His eyes flashed, and he held a finger to his lips. His gaze went to something over my shoulder. “I can smell another Unseelie.”

I inhaled deeply, breathing in a new forest scent. Under the loam and moss and almond-scented mushrooms, a briny scent floated on the wind. As I concentrated, a distant song carried through the forest. Here, the river’s flow had grown gentler, more of a burbling than a rush. In the quiet of the night, the forest life around me seemed to have a faint hum to it, like soft woodland music.

I turned back to the path. A faint blue glow beamed between ruined stone vaults further down the river.

The song seemed to call to me, luring me closer. I took the lead as Torin hung back, his footfalls nearly imperceptible. We kept hidden behind the cover of dense ruddy foliage, and I peered through it at the blue light.

I spied the source: large, glowing blue fireflies that floated through the air above a murmuring stream. And there, resting her arms on the river bank, was an Unseelie woman. Her shimmering white hair draped over bare bronze shoulders. She wore a small cap made of bright red feathers and a sheer green veil over her face. She didn’t look particularly vicious.

As I craned my neck, I caught sight of iridescent scales that glittered over her shoulder blades.

I turned to Torin, and he whispered, “A merrow. Not dangerous, I think. She can’t leave the water.”

I inhaled deeply, trying to pick out the scent of any other creatures. I didn’t smell anything.

The merrow had started singing again, a quiet, beautiful song that harmonized with the intoxicating melody of life around us.

With a deep inhalation, I pushed through the foliage, the slick leaves brushing gently against my skin. The merrow turned to look at me and fell silent. She cocked her head, curiosity shining in her violet eyes.

I smiled hesitantly. “Hello.”

She sniffed the air, and she spoke in a lilting, unfamiliar tongue.

“Sorry, I don’t understand.”

She sniffed again. “Cromm. Isavell.” She smiled. “Mab.”

She seemed friendly enough. I smiled back and touched my chest. “Ava. Mab…that’s the queen? Sorry, is your name Isavell?”

She smiled at me, eyes shining. “Isavell.”

Gods, I felt like an idiot. I looked like an Unseelie, but I didn’t speak one word of the language.

Isavell, if that was her name, giggled. She raised herself from the water, showing off a silvery sleeveless dress that clung to her body, damp with river water. She really looked enchanting. Maybe the Unseelie weren’t demonic at all. Maybe they’d been demonized by their enemies over the centuries, but they were actually very sweet.

I wondered if Torin had decided I was safe by now.

I was trying to decide what to say next when Isavell pointed at a flowering tree. I took a tentative step closer, and she smiled at me encouragingly. Little purple berries grew between the flowers. When I pointed at them and raised my eyebrows, Isavell nodded.

Maybe she wanted a snack?

I gathered a handful of berries and brought them over to her, crouching down at the edge of the river. She put one in her mouth, smiling at me. Then she gestured. She wanted to feed me one? Something more intimate than I was used to with strangers, but maybe this was how the Unseelie made friends.

It didn’t seem like a Court of Sorrows.

I opened my mouth, and she popped a berry in. When I bit into it, sweet, tangy juice exploded on my tongue. I knew the warnings about eating the food or drinking the wine in Fae realms, but I was one of the fae.

As I crouched by the riverbank, we shared the rest of the handful of berries. When we’d finished eating, purple juice stained my palm. I stood, wanting to ask her what I’d find if I kept walking. Would I find a town? A city full of beautiful, snack-eating fae?

But I didn’t know her language, so I pointed down the river and raised my brows.

The merrow sniffed the air again, her smile slowly fading. Did she sense the presence of the Seelie king? Dark shadows slid through her eyes, and her lip curled to expose brutally sharp canines.

I staggered away.

She threw back her head, and her feathered cap fell into the water. She opened her mouth and let out a loud, wailing song with one word I recognized: Isavell, followed by the word Morgant.

My pulse quickened.

This didn’t seem quite as friendly anymore, and I ran back into the foliage. From the other direction, footfalls and cracking branches echoed through the night. My heart slammed. I was being hunted.

Before I could fully comprehend the danger, a sharp pain pierced my shoulders, and another plunged into my lower back. Immediately, the air was sucked out of my lungs as agony shot through my muscles and bones. I heard Torin call my name as I fell to the damp earth. He scooped me up in his powerful arms, held me tightly against his bare chest, and ran.

My muscles spasmed as a toxin spread through me, and I struggled to keep my arms around his neck. The darts tore at my skin.

“That was a mistake,” Torin said, stiffening, and dropped me to the ground.

Pain shot through my back, and I rolled over on the mossy earth. With blurring vision, I scanned the forest floor for Torin. Darts jutted from his bare back like St. Sebastian, and he was struggling to push himself up on his arms.

On his hands and knees, he crawled toward me and snatched the darts from my flesh. I moved to help him, but a boot slammed into him, pinning him to the earth, and someone yanked me up from behind.

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