Into the Fire (The Unseelie Court Book 4) by Gwen Rivers (latest ebook reader .TXT) 📕

“All my life.” Her chin goes up and she crosses to the bed, seating herself on the edge of it. “She rescued me from certain death.”

“How so?”

“You’re not ready to hear the story.” She tilts her head to study him. “I assume you’re here to try and convince me to help you escape?”

He doesn’t bother to fight a smile. “Am I so obvious?”

She shrugs. “It’s what I’d do in your place.”

He studies her a moment. “Please try to understand. I have a mate out there. You know how rare that is?”

When she nods, he pushes, “I have no idea what’s happening to her, no idea if she’s too hot, too cold. If she’s hungry and doing without. It’s my job to protect and provide for her.”

The seer shakes her head. “It really isn’t, Aiden. Nic has been taking care of herself since she was six-years-old. She’s a survivor.”

“And that means what, that I shouldn’t worry?” His laugh is hollow. “Tell me, have you ever gone without protection from a goddess?”

Her expression grows shuttered. “You know I have. Wardon kept me locked in his castle.”

“Where you were dressed in finery and given plenty of food and a place away from the elements?”

Her stare is unflinching. “A gilded cage is still a cage, Aiden.”

She sounds like Nic. “There are worse things than being chained, seer. Part of me still longs for Ragnarök if it means I can forget all that I have done, all that has been done to me.”

She shakes her head in clear denial. “You don’t mean that.”

He didn’t, not anymore. Not if total eradication meant his mate would die. For her, he will endure, even with the cruelty and suffering that plagues him. “There’s a reason the dead of the Wild Hunt are so formidable. Nic can’t turn a corner without coming across another evil soul. They are sprouting up everywhere like weeds among both human and fey populations. The worlds are only getting worse.”

She rises up and moves to the door. “Hungry?”

He frowns. Why the abrupt change? Or is she just sick of hearing him moan and groan over things that neither of them can change?

He can’t blame her. Sometimes he is sick of himself.

At the notion of food, the wolf surges up. “Is there actual food here?”

Harmony nods. “It’s been Freya’s practice to keep it around ever since I came to live here.”

He follows her down the path once more. Instead of turning back toward his room, she takes another turn and heads in the opposite direction.

They entered a humongous gourmet kitchen. Aiden gapes at the marble countertops, the island that is really more of a continent, the two side by side refrigerators. Though Freya could adorn her home by any magical means, she had never bothered following human custom before. Just what did Harmony mean to her that the goddess would put herself out this way?

“You said Freya rescued you?” He follows her into the gleaming white space. “That doesn’t sound like her. She only does things to suit herself, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Says the selfish wolf who’ll see the worlds burn so he can get to his mate. Who is perfectly fine where she is. Omelet?” She holds up a container of eggs.

Aiden sighs. “You’re not going to try and mick me with that wolf-be-gone potion, are you?”

She holds his gaze. “I’ll tell you flat-out with no word-twisting so you know I can’t lie. No, I will not try to slip you any drugs or altering substances.”

He’s tempted to bring up that she’d dumped herbs in his bath so he wouldn’t detect the scent of Bifrost, but restrains himself. “Then an omelet sounds excellent.” Harmony isn’t a natural cook. More eggs land on the counter or the floor than in the bowl but finally she has enough to make an omelet.

Aiden releases a sigh. “As for Nic, I never claimed to be farseeing, or to care about those who don’t bother with me or mine. I’m selfish and single-minded. It’s not a crime.”

Harmony extracts mushrooms, onions, peppers, butter, bacon, cheese, and bread and lays them all out on the counter. “Did you ever stop and think that maybe the world you are so eager to let burn would be a better place if all those people could see beyond the ends of their noses?”

He had, actually, but even with the powers of a god, Aiden possesses no ability to interfere with mortal or even fey choice. Serving in an advisory role for Nic is as close as he’s ever come to political power. Harmony, maneuvering in Wardon’s court has far more experience.

“Why do you dislike her so?”

She plops a pat of butter in a pan and then lays cold bacon over it. “Whatever you think, I have never hated Nic. Not in her last life and not in this one. But she’s no longer a queen, Aiden. She didn’t sit on the Shadow Throne.”

No, she didn’t. And the throne which had sat vacant for so long had accepted another. “There must be a way.”

Harmony whacks away at the vegetables like they are fighting back. “Have you ever asked her if she wants to rule, Aiden?”

He opens his mouth, then shuts it again.

Harmony whips the eggs with preternatural speed and mixture slops over the side of the bowl. “Fenrir sits on the Shadow Throne because your mate didn’t claim it. She never made it a priority. Why do you think that is?”

“It’s her destiny.” But even as he says the words, he recalls all the times Nic’s eyes had glazed over at talk of ruling. “She protects the people, the court. She rides with the Hunt.”

“She did all that in her last life.” The bacon pops, releasing a delectable fragrance in spite of its mistreatment. “And she wasn’t a great queen or even a good one.”

“And you think Fenrir will rule well?”

Harmony shakes her head. “I want you to stop and think, Aiden. About something other than yourself.