Fragile Eternity

Chapter 13

The next week seemed almost normal for Aislinn: things with Seth were right again, Keenan hadn’t pushed her boundaries, and court things seemed calm. She couldn’t continue ignoring Keenan, and it was becoming almost physically painful to stay so much away from him, so Aislinn had decided to simply pretend that the awkwardness of last week hadn’t happened. She might’ve been avoiding being alone with Keenan the past couple of days, but aside from a few very pointed glances when she called Quinn or Tavish into a conversation they didn’t truly need to be a part of…and okay, maybe a few very transparent moments of sudden needs for “girl bonding” with the Summer Girls, Keenan pretended not to notice her evasiveness. He merely waited as she held her faeries to her like a shield. She enjoyed time with them, Eliza especially, but that didn’t explain away her need to go dancing in the park the moment Keenan came too near.

Totally obvious. It was apparent to everyone, but no one had mentioned it. Aside from Keenan and Seth, no one had enough comfort with her to do so. She was their queen, and right now, that gave her an extra bit of privacy.

They all see that something is up though. They are unsettled by it. She had promised herself that she would be a good queen. Upsetting them all was not what a good queen should do.

With a bit of a tremble in her hand, Aislinn tapped on the study door. “Keenan?” She pushed it open. “Are you free?”

He had her charts spread out in front of him on the coffee table. Music played softly in the background—one of her older CDs, actually, Poe’s Haunted. She’d picked it up at the Music Exchange one afternoon with Seth.

Keenan looked at her and then made a point of looking beyond her. “Where’s your safety team?”

She closed the door. “I gave them the afternoon off. I thought I could be around you…that we could talk.”

“I see.” He looked back at her charts. “You have a good idea here, but we’re not going to get very far with the desert area.”

“Why?” She didn’t bother commenting on his subject change. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to talk about it either, but they needed to.

“Rika lives there. She was one of the Winter Girls.” Keenan frowned. “Far too much like Don. She has issues with me.”

“You say that like it’s surprising.” She stood next to the sofa, nearer him than she should be, but she wasn’t going to let whatever weirdness had happened control her.

“It is.” Keenan leaned back on the sofa, propped his feet up on the coffee table, and folded his hands. “They act like I set out to hurt them. I never wanted anyone hurt…except Beira and Irial.”

“So they should just forgive and forget?” Aislinn had avoided this topic for months. She’d avoided a lot of topics, but sooner or later they had to sort it all out. Eternity was an awfully long time to let things simmer. “We all lost so many things when you chose—”

“We?” he interrupted.

“What?” She pulled a chair over and sat down.

“You said, ‘We all lost so many things.’ You were including yourself with the Summer and Winter Girls.”

“No, I…” She paused and blushed. “I did, didn’t I?”

He nodded.

“I am one of them. We, all the ones you chose, lost a lot.” She ducked her head, her hair falling forward like a curtain she could hide behind. “It’s not like I didn’t gain some amazing things too. I get that. Really.”

His expression was unusually closed to her. “But?”

“But it’s hard. Being this. I swear I’m never going to get my feet to stay under me. Grams is going to die. Seth—” She stopped herself from even uttering that sentence. “I’ll lose everyone. I’m not going to die, and they are.”

He lifted a hand as if to reach for her, and then lowered it. “I know.”

She took a couple calming breaths. “It’s hard not to be angry about that. Your choosing me means that I lose the people I love. I’ll be around forever, watching them age and die.”

“It means I lose the person I love too. Donia will only be in my life as long as your heart is elsewhere,” Keenan admitted.

“Don’t.” Aislinn cringed at hearing him say such things so casually. “That’s not fair…to anyone.”

“I know.” He was as still as she’d ever seen him. The sun was rising in the oasis she could see in his eyes. “I never wanted it to be the way it’s been. Beira and Irial bound my powers, hid them away. What was I to do? Let summer die? Let the earth freeze until all the mortals and summer fey perished?”

“No.” The reasonable part of her understood. She knew that there weren’t many choices other than the ones he’d made, but she still hurt inside. Logic didn’t undo sorrow or fear or any of it, not really. She’d just found Seth, and he was already drifting out of her grasp. He’ll die. She thought it. She couldn’t say it, but she thought it more than once in a while. Years from now, centuries from now, she’d still be this, and he’d be dust inside the earth. How can I not be angry? If she weren’t a faery, she wouldn’t be facing a future without Seth.

“So what would you have done differently, Aislinn? Would you have let the court die? If Irial bound your powers, could you shrug it off and let humanity and your court wither and die?”

In Keenan’s eyes she could see a dying star, a dark orb with a few desperate pulses of flickering light. As she stared, speechless, she saw tiny stars all around that dying sun; they were already lifeless in a growing void. She didn’t mean to love her court; if he’d told her months ago that she’d feel like this toward them, she wouldn’t have believed him. She’d felt a fierce protectiveness toward them, though, from the moment she became their queen. The Summer Court needed to grow stronger. She was trying to take what little experience she had and her research of politics and governments to help them grow stronger. She was trying to slowly press back against the imbalance that Donia’s court still held. Her court, her faeries, the well-being of the earth—these were more than choices. She believed in them. Feeling as she did now, could she have done differently had she been in his position? Could she have let Eliza die? Could she watch the cubs all freeze to death?

“No. I wouldn’t have,” she admitted.

“Don’t think for a moment that I wanted what has happened to the Winter Girls and the Summer Girls.” He moved then, leaning forward on the edge of the sofa, and caught her gaze. “I’ve spent longer berating myself for what I’ve had to do than you will ever know. I wanted”—he looked at her as more stars, barely flickering in the void, formed in his eyes—“each one to be you. And when they weren’t, I knew I was condemning them to a slow death if I didn’t find you.”

She sat silently. He was my age when this started. Making those choices. Hoping.

“I’d give them all back their mortality if I could, but even that wouldn’t repair what they’ve lost.” Keenan started stacking the papers on the coffee table. “And even if I could make them mortal again, I wouldn’t be willing to risk offering that same thing to you for fear of it remaking Beira’s curse, so even then I’d be left with the weight of knowing that I’ve taken the mortality of the one who saved me. You’re my savior, and I can’t make you happy.”

“I’m not—”

“You are. And it puts us in something of an awkward relationship, doesn’t it?”

“We’ll get it sorted out,” she whispered. “We have forever, right?” She tried to lighten her tone, to soothe him. This wasn’t the conversation she wanted to have at all, but it was the one they’d needed to have for a while now.

“We do.” He had resumed the motionless posture he’d had when the conversation began. “And I’ll spend it doing whatever I can to make you happy.”

“That’s not what I was…I mean…I’m not looking for you to do something to ‘make up’ for what had to be. I just…I’m scared of losing them. I don’t want to be alone.”

“You aren’t. We’ll be together for eternity.”

“You’re my friend, Keenan. That thing that happened the other day? It cannot happen. It shouldn’t have happened.” She was so tense, muscles clenched so tightly that she couldn’t relax her body to unfold her legs from underneath her. “I need you…but I don’t love you.”

“You wanted me to touch you.”

She swallowed against the lie she wanted to whisper and admitted, “I did. Once you reached out your hand, I didn’t want anything else.”

“So what do you want me to do?” He sounded unnaturally calm.

“Don’t reach out.” She bit down on her lip until she could feel her already cracked skin bleed.

He pulled his hand through his copper hair in frustration, but he nodded. “I will try. That’s all I can say and still be truthful.”

She shivered. “I’m going to talk to Donia tonight. You love Donia.”

“I do.” Keenan looked as confused as she’d felt. “That doesn’t change what I feel when I see you or think of you or am near to you. You can’t tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

“Love and desire aren’t the same.”

“Are you saying that all I feel is simple desire? Is that all you feel?” His arrogance was back, as surely as it had been when they first met and she was rejecting his advances.

“It’s not a challenge, Keenan. This isn’t me running.”

“If you gave us a chance—”

“I love Seth. I…he’s my heart. If I could find a way to have him with me for always without being selfish, I would. I’m not going to pretend that I don’t feel a pull to be near you. You’re my king, and I need you to be my friend, but I don’t want a relationship with you. I’m sorry. You knew that when I became your queen. Nothing has changed. It’s not going to as long as I have him, and I want…” She paused. Saying the words she’d been thinking felt so final, but she said it: “I want to find a way to make Seth one of us. I want him with me forever.”

“No.” It wasn’t a reply: it was a king’s command.

“Why?” Her heart thudded. “He wants to stay with me…and I want to—”

“Donia thought she wanted to be with me forever too. So did Rika. And Liseli…and Nathalie…and…” He gestured around the room, empty but for the two of them. “Where are they?”

“It’s different. Seth’s different.”

“So would you have him be as the Summer Girls? Would you see him die if he left you?” Keenan looked angry. “You just finished telling me that you resent me for changing you. So do many, many others for my changing them. No. Do not pursue this.”

“He wants this. We can make it work.” Aislinn heard him voice the same fears she’d had, but she’d hoped that Keenan would tell her she’d worried foolishly, that there was a way.

“No, Ash. He thinks he does, but being changed would put him in thrall to you, make him your subject. He wouldn’t truly want that. Neither would you. I believed the Summer Girls wanted to be with me forever. Many of them believed it too. The Winter Girls believed it enough to suffer for my mistakes. Let it go. Faerie never offers a mortal what they truly seek, and cursing a loved one…” The Summer King looked far older than her in that moment. “It’s not called a curse because it’s beautiful, Aislinn. If you love Seth, you’ll treasure him while he’s in your life and then let him go. If I’d had other choices—”

Aislinn stood up. “That’s what you expected all along, isn’t it? Him to go away not long after I changed. You knew I’d feel like this toward you.”

“Mortals aren’t meant to love faeries.”

“So agreeing to my terms wasn’t any big deal, right? Seth and I will fall apart and you…you’d just…No.”

Keenan stared up at her, and she thought back to Denny’s comments on experience and age and admitted to herself that Denny had had a very good point. If Keenan didn’t let up, what would that mean for her? He’d spent most of nine hundred years romancing girl after girl. They all succumbed.

And none of them were his queen.

His look was sorrowful, but his words weren’t any gentler. “It’s better to love someone and know they go on to happiness than to destroy them. Cursing someone you love is not a kindness, Aislinn. I regretted it each time.”

“Seth and I are different. Just because Donia’s pushing you away doesn’t mean it can’t work for me. It could still work for you two. You can sort this out.”

“I wish you were right—or that you accepted that I am. Why do you think Don’s pushing me away, Ash? Why do you think Seth wants to be cursed? They see what you refuse to admit. You and I are inevitable.” Keenan’s smile was rueful. “I’m not wrong, and I won’t help you make a mistake like this.”

She all but ran from the room.

And like she had when she was still mortal, she needed the help of the faery who loved Keenan. Donia’s forgiving him for whatever mistake he made would convince him that love could make things right. Then maybe he’d help her. At the very least, he’d stop pursuing her if he had Donia’s love. Donia had to be with Keenan.

Everything will be fine once Donia takes him back.

The trip to Donia’s house was a blur. It wasn’t until Aislinn stood alongside a quiet street on the outskirts of town that she admitted how many kinds of fear she felt—not just of what would happen if Donia rejected Keenan for good, but of what would happen when Aislinn went inside the Winter Queen’s gorgeous Victorian estate. They had a tentative friendship, but that didn’t mean that Donia couldn’t be terrifying. Winter hurt, and Donia’s home was always Winter.

Winter fey moved soundlessly through a thorn-heavy garden; icy trees and sun-capped shrubs made the yard look out of place among its verdant neighbors. As Aislinn had walked down the street, she’d seen dogs lazing on stoops, a girl sunning herself in languid bliss, and more flowers than she’d seen growing outside in her entire life. Beira’s death and Keenan’s unbinding had brought a balance that was letting life flourish. But in this yard, the frost would never melt; mortals passing on the street would still look away. No one—mortal or fey—crossed the Winter Queen’s frigid lawn without her consent. Consent she’d denied Keenan. What am I doing here?

Keenan needed Donia; they loved each other, and Aislinn needed them to remember that. Once-mortals could love faeries.

As Aislinn crossed the yard, the frost-heavy grass thawed under her feet. Behind her, she heard the crackling as the ice re-formed instantly. This was Donia’s domain. It was where she was at her strongest. And where I am weakest. After centuries of Beira declaring it as her seat of power, this place existed both inside the lines of Faerie and in the mortal realm, a thing that Keenan had been—and was still—unable to accomplish.

Her skin prickled uncomfortably as she walked through that icy world. Aislinn was an interloper, and Winter was as unpredictable as Summer. Donia might deny it, but Aislinn had spent her life cringing at the ravages of the seemingly endless snows. She’d seen bodies dead and frozen on side streets; the lifeless expressions of pain were things she’d not forget. Aislinn had felt the pain of that ice wielded as a weapon when she and Keenan stood against the last Winter Queen.

That wasn’t Donia, Aislinn reminded herself, but it did no good. Something about the very opposition of their courts made Aislinn want to clutch Keenan’s hand in hers, but he wasn’t there.

As Aislinn stepped onto the porch, one of the white-winged Hawthorn People opened the door. The faery was soundless in her movement. She did not speak as Aislinn came through the doorway and shivered in the chill that pervaded the room. She did not speak as she glided through the dim house.

“Is Donia available?” Aislinn’s voice echoed in the stillness, but there was no answer.

She hadn’t truly expected one: the Hawthorns were silent. It added to how unsettling they were. They never wandered far from Donia’s presence and typically only left the Winter Queen’s home if it was necessary to stay at Donia’s side. Their red eyes glowed like hearth coals amidst their ash-gray countenances.

The girl led Aislinn past several other quietly watchful Hawthorns who were lingering in the main hall. A fire crackled in one of the rooms they passed; the spitting and popping of logs was the only sound other than the fall of Aislinn’s feet on the aged wood of the floor. The Winter Court could move with an eerie stillness that made the back of Aislinn’s neck prickle uneasily.

At a door that was closed, the Hawthorn stopped. She made no movement to open the door.

“Do I need to knock?” Aislinn asked.

But the girl turned and drifted away.

“That’s helpful.” Aislinn reached out a hand just as the door opened inward.

“Come in.” Evan motioned her into the room.

“Hey, Evan.”

“My queen would speak to you in private,” he said, but he followed that with a friendly smile, crinkling his face into an expression that eased Aislinn’s tension a bit. Like the Hawthorn People, his berry-red eyes stood out, but where the Hawthorn were tinted like ashes of a dying fire, rowans like Evan were the image of fecundity. His gray-brown barklike skin and dark green leafy hair spoke of trees that moved across the earth untethered. They were creatures of Summer, of her court. It soothed her to see him.

But he was leaving already, and Aislinn was alone with Donia and her wolf, Sasha.

“Donia,” Aislinn started, but there suddenly weren’t words she could think of to go any further.

The Winter Queen did not make matters easier. She stood watching Aislinn. “I assume he sent you.”

“He would prefer talking to you himself.” Aislinn felt like a small child in the vast unwelcoming room, but Donia hadn’t offered her a seat or made any move to sit down herself, so she stood. The rug under their feet was almost threadbare, muted green, and somehow still seemed opulent. Aislinn suspected it was more suited to a museum than daily use.

“I had Evan refuse him entrance.” Donia paced away from Aislinn, keeping an exaggerated distance.

It made her anxious that the Winter Queen felt compelled to stay out of reach.

“Can I ask why?”

“You can.” Donia seemed unusually unapproachable.

Aislinn forced her irritation and a twinge of fear away. “Okaaay. I’m asking.”

“I don’t want to see him.” Donia smiled, and Aislinn shivered.

“Look. If you want me to go, just tell me. I’m here because he asked and because I like you.” Aislinn folded her arms over her chest, as much to keep herself from fidgeting uneasily as to keep from reaching out to smash one of the delicate snow globes that lined a shelf on the wall. They weren’t the sort of thing she’d expect Donia to have, but right now didn’t seem like the best time to ask about them. Something about Donia’s behavior was off, and Aislinn felt herself responding to an unspoken threat.

“Your temper is more obvious as Summer’s strength grows.” Donia’s chilling smile was steadfast. “Like his. You even look like him with that glow pulsing under your skin.”

“Keenan is my friend.” Aislinn bit down on her lip and curled her fingers tighter into her folded arms, not in nerves but for tiny bits of pain to ground herself.

The Winter Queen walked farther away. She paused at the window and traced her finger over the glass, covering it with frost flowers. She didn’t look at Aislinn as she began to speak. “It’s like a wound, loving him. He’s everything I ever dreamed of. When we are together”—she sighed, a cloud of freezing air that left tiny icicles clinging to the drapes—“I don’t care that he could burn me up. In that moment, I’d welcome it. I’d say yes even if it ended me.”

Aislinn’s temper fled, and she blushed, unprepared for this sort of conversation with Donia.

Donia didn’t turn from the glass as she continued, “I’ve wondered if that’s why Miach and Beira were so unable to coexist. I see it, history ready to repeat itself. Don’t think I am unaware, Ash.”

The Winter Queen turned her back to the window. She leaned against it, framed by the icy lace with which she’d decorated the glass and drapes.

“I’m not judging you. I want you to be with Keenan,” Aislinn insisted.

“Even if it’s a mistake?” Donia’s tone wasn’t one Aislinn could read. It verged on taunting. “Even if it’s history repeating? Even if the consequences are horrific? Would you have us start a war to protect your heart?”

Aislinn couldn’t answer. She hadn’t really thought much about the fact that Keenan’s parents were the Summer King and Winter Queen.

“I wonder now if Beira’s killing Miach was unexpected. Summer Kings are so volatile. Winter can be so much calmer.” As Donia spoke, a chair of ice formed under her. The edges weren’t smooth, but ragged like waves frozen in mid-break.

Aislinn didn’t mean to, but she laughed. “Can be? I’ve seen the temper in you. Summer can be calm too. Whatever you two have just isn’t…and I don’t think calm is what either of you would want. I saw him after Solstice. There were frostbites on his skin, but he was happy.”

“You would see those marks, wouldn’t you?” Donia gave her a look that wasn’t friendly at all. “Every time I think I have him out of my system, and then he’s sweet or wonderful…” She looked wistful. “Do you know what he did?”

Aislinn shook her head.

“He had a gardening company remove the hawthorn…that awful plant that was the scene of every test. It’s gone from here and from the cottage. Not killed, but replanted away from me.” Tiny ice drops clicked as they shattered at Donia’s feet.

“That’s sweet….”

“It is.” Donia’s face was a mirror of the feelings Aislinn often felt for Keenan—the bittersweet mix of affection and frustration that assailed her more and more—and Aislinn hated that they had that in common. She hated that they were in this conversation.

They stayed there, neither going any further, until Donia said, “It’s not going to change my mind. I know he thinks he might love me, but he thinks he might love you too.”

I wish I could lie. Right now I really wish I could lie to her.

“I don’t want…” Aislinn faltered. She tried again, “We aren’t…” The words weren’t wholly true: she couldn’t pronounce them. Finally, she said, “I am with Seth.”

“You are, but he’s mortal.” Donia didn’t look angry. “And Keenan is your king, your partner. I hear it in his voice when he says your name. He never sounded like this about anyone else.”

“Except you.”

The Winter Queen nodded. “Yes, except me. I know that.”

“He wants to see you. He’s upset, and you need to—”

“No.” Donia stood. “You’re in no position to tell me what I need to do. My court has held sway over the earth longer than either of us can imagine. They’ve watched Keenan suffer under Beira’s boot for centuries.” Donia was motionless, but her eyes were snowblind. “They do not give up power easily, but I ask it of them. I require them to accept that Summer must have more than a few brief days.”

“Then you see why you need to work things out.”

“So Summer can grow stronger.”

“Yes.”

“And that’s meant to motivate me?” Donia laughed. “The Summer Court despised me for failing to be you. They weren’t there to comfort me when I tried to give him his court and failed…. Tell me, Ash, why should I care what goes on in your court?”

“Because you love Keenan, and he loves you, and we can have peace if you two sort out whatever you’re angry about this time.”

“You have no clue who your king truly is, do you?” Donia sounded bemused. “Even though your mother died to avoid being trapped in his court and you’ve lost your mortality for him, you’re still blinded. I’m not. What stands between us is his arrogance and…you, Ash.”

“I don’t want to be between you. I want Seth to be in my life, only Seth. If I could I’d still be mortal and…I wish you had been Summer Queen.”

“I know. It’s part of what keeps me from hating you.” Donia smiled, almost affectionately.

“I don’t love him,” Aislinn blurted hurriedly, as if afraid the words weren’t going to be pronounceable, as if it could be almost a lie. “I’m furious with him regularly and…I want you and him to be together.”

“I know that as well.”

“Then just be with him.”

“I won’t be your shield, Ash.” An edge of scorn threaded through Donia’s voice.

“My…?”

“You can’t hide behind me to make sense of whatever you two are trying to sort out.” Donia flexed her fingers almost absently, and hoarfrost crept over the walls. Crackling ice covered sconces and faded wallpaper.

“You two had plenty of problems before me.” Aislinn felt her skin warming, an inevitable reaction to the dropping temperature in the room. Her own energy tried to push the chill from the air nearest her.

“We did.” Snowflakes floated gently to the ground around Donia. “But they were all based in him seeking you.”

“I didn’t ask for this.” Aislinn was advancing on Donia. She needed Donia to see Keenan, needed her to understand. It was what they all needed. “You have to—”

“Don’t dictate to me, Aislinn.” The Winter Queen sounded perfectly calm. Her stillness was that of newly fallen snow, untouched, undisturbed.

“I didn’t come here to fight you.” Her sunlight was a weak shield in the Winter Queen’s home. Her palace. Call it what she would, that’s what it truly was, her palace, her seat of power. And not where I should be.

“Maybe that was a mistake.” Donia’s fingertips were points of ice. “Summer began early this year because I allowed it.”

“And we appreciate that.”

Donia toyed with the ice in and on her hands, clicking the shards together. “Yet you come into my home as if you are stronger, as if what you want matters more, as if your court has a voice in my domain….”

Aislinn’s temper flared, a blink of sunlight in the icy room, but she still moved back. “I didn’t mean it that way. We didn’t. I just don’t see why you have to be unreasonable.”

“Unreasonable? Because what Summer seeks must be a good idea?”

Aislinn couldn’t answer. It seemed obvious that a stronger Winter Court wasn’t the right answer. Hadn’t they all thought that? Donia had faced almost certain death at the last Winter Queen’s hands because she had thought that, but as they stood there, it seemed clear to Aislinn that Donia’s stance had changed.

“If I strike you, he will be furious, despite your insults.” Donia took a step forward. “What would he say? Would it keep him from coming to my door, dragging out this hell he puts us through? Would it put things as they should be?”

“I don’t know…as they ‘should be’? What does that mean?” Aislinn wanted to run. Donia was stronger; the Winter Court was still stronger.

“This thing between us isn’t as simple as it was before you and I became regents. If we fight, our courts are in discord. My court wants that”—Donia caught her gaze and held it—“and I’ve thought about it. I’ve imagined it, driving this ice into your sunlit skin. I’ve thought about striking you. I would resolve this foolish attempt to pretend we’re all friends here.”

“Donia?” Aislinn watched her warily. As with Niall, the faery Aislinn thought she’d known was replaced with something feral, someone who could—and would—injure her. Aislinn stood alone with the Winter Queen in her palace.

“I like you. I remind myself of that often, but there are other factors….” The Winter Queen’s words faded away. Snow drifted around her feet. “The Summer Court is not welcome in my Winter.”

Despite the ice covering the walls, despite the chill in Donia’s voice, Aislinn’s temper finally slipped out of her control. “We have no voice in your court, but you can dictate to us?”

“Yes.”

“Why should we—”

And Donia was beside her before the words could come out. She put a hand on the center of Aislinn’s stomach and pressed ice-tipped fingers into Aislinn’s skin. The ice melted as it pierced Aislinn, but as fast as that ice melted, more extended, cutting deeper into Aislinn’s stomach. Bits of it broke off and embedded inside her.

Aislinn screamed. The pain was instant, burning holes inside of her, and Aislinn wasn’t sure which was from the stabbing and which was from the ice. Am I going to die here?

“Why should you listen to my desires?” Donia murmured. Fingers still red with Aislinn’s blood, Donia put her hand on Aislinn’s chin and tilted her head so they were eye-to-eye. “Because I am stronger, Ash, and you both need to remember that. This balance you want only comes if I allow it.”

“You stabbed me.” Aislinn thought she might vomit. Her body felt clammy. Pain from the ice inside her skin vied with pain from the punctures in her stomach.

“It seemed prudent.” Donia’s expression was all too similar to the last Winter Queen’s: utterly unapologetic and unmoved by the horrific thing she’d just done.

“Keenan will—”

“Be angry. Yes, I know, but”—Donia sighed, an icy cloud of breath that made Aislinn cringe—“your wounds are mild. They won’t be next time.”

Aislinn put a hand to her stomach, but it was a weak attempt to stop the blood that trickled from the row of holes in her skin. “Keenan and I could retaliate. Is that what you want?”

“No, I want you to stay away from me.” Donia handed her a lacy white handkerchief. “Don’t come back here until I invite you. Any of you.”

And with that, Evan came into the room to help Aislinn to the door.