In offering his court’s friendship, Niall had thrown an unasked-for lifeline, not a trap. Seth got that.Even if she doesn’t see it. A court’s friendship was more than just Niall’s friendship: it meant that those who swore fealty to that throne would act as if he were one of their own. It meant he’d have many of the benefits of belonging to a court without the obligations or duties. Considering how vulnerable he was, it meant he had strength to call upon—from a court that many of the solitaries, the High Court, and the Summer Court feared. Even if it didn’t irritate Keenan, it would be appealing.

“It’s cool,” Seth assured Aislinn. “Niall is my friend.”

“The friendship of not just the Dark King but the Dark Court is offered, to be paid with blood and no other coin,” Niall said. His eyes held fear that Seth would reject his offer.

“Accepted.” Seth stretched his wrist out in front of him and waited. He didn’t reach toward Niall or the Hounds. The details of what would follow were utterly unclear to him. Most everyone there could draw blood without a blade, but they also all carried weapons of some sort. It was doubtful that anyone other than Niall would bleed him, and even if they did, Seth trusted that Gabriel and Chela—the two next highest-ranking dark faeries—would be cautious with his safety.

Only Keenan means me harm.

“I trust you,” Seth said—to Niall, to the Hounds.

“I am honored.” Niall leaned in and lowered his voice to say, “But Dark Kings reallydon’t resist temptation very well.”

Then, with a wicked grin, he turned and slammed his fist into Keenan’s face with enough force that the Summer King’s head hit the brick wall with a loud thud.

In a breath, the faeries all became invisible.

Aislinn rushed to Keenan’s side as he crumpled and fell.

The Hounds surged forward to stand like a wall of menace alongside Niall.

The abyss dancers shimmied.

And Niall licked his knuckles. “Sealed and paid with blood. The rules don’t say it has to beyour blood, Seth.”

Chapter 9

Aislinn put herself between Keenan and Niall before the thought to protect her king had even finished forming. “Stop.”

“You don’t want to try me right now.” Niall turned his back on her and started to walk away.

She followed. On some level she understood that her temper was propelling her to act foolishly, but it didn’t matter. Her king was wounded at this faery’s hand. She had to strike out at anyone who would attack their court; she had to crush anyone who would weaken them.

Niall’s action isn’t about the court, though.Niall and Keenan hadn’t resolved their conflicts, and Niall believed that Keenan was a threat to Seth.This is personal, not court. Logic tried to interfere with impulse.But Keenan is hurt.

She took hold of Niall’s arm. The smell of sizzling skin was instant. Her sunlight had flared brighter than she realized.

Niall didn’t flinch. Instead he drew his arm—and therefore her—tight to his body. Her fingers were pressed against his chest, burning small holes in his shirt. Instead of pulling away from her, he held her close enough that she had to tilt her head back to look at him. Once she did, Niall said, “My court would like more conflict with yours…and I”—he smiled—“I have to wonder if they’re right.”

“Let go.” She tugged her hand and concentrated so she was no longer injuring him.

He gripped her wrist. “Any blood would’ve done the trick, but I wanted his. I’m not in violation of any laws for doing it. And, really? I suspected I’d enjoy it more this way”—he looked beyond her and grinned at Keenan lying prone on the ground—“and I did.”

Then he released her.

She backed away carefully. “You hurt him.”

“And you injured me. The difference, Aislinn, is that I’d do it every day if I could find justification. Would you?” Niall didn’t sound like the same faery who’d helped her get used to her new role as Summer Queen, and he surely didn’t sound like the faery who’d wooed Leslie. Those faces were gone, and what stood in front of her was a faery that rivaled the worst of the ones she’d hid from as a child.

Her sunlight barely in check, she glared at him. “I’m not the one starting fights.”

“Shall I start one? Really start the conflict they crave? My court whispers and chants tales of what we could do while your court is still weak. It grows hard not to listen.” His dark dancers swayed around him like shadows come to life. Gabriel and several other Hounds stood waiting.

This could get uglier than we can handle.

They hadn’t brought a lot of people with them. She wasn’t expecting trouble. Sure, there were rumblings of discord, but faeries were always in small dissentions. The court rulers kept that in check. Niall had been one of the good guys. Donia was one of the good guys. The two courts that had caused trouble for hers were both led by faeries who’d been confidants—and more—to Keenan. He’d trusted that their past would protect the Summer Court. He knew they were out of sorts, but he hadn’t thought it was severe enough to lead to any true problems.It’s not the way faery courts work, Aislinn, he’d assured her.We aren’t so quick to strike out, he’d promised. And she’d believed him—until now.

“Do I frighten you, Ash?” Niall’s voice was a low whisper, as if they were the only two people in the room. “Do I remind you of why you thought we were monsters?”

“Yes.” Her own voice came out shaky.

“Good.” He glanced to the side of her, where a wall of shadows had formed. Outside that wall lay the only faery there, other than her, who could tear down those shadows, but she wasn’t sure how to, and Keenan was unconscious on the ground.

As if the detail were of only casual interest, Niall added, “Your king never learned to fight. He had me and all the rest to do it for him.”