The Unseelie Throne (Maze of Shadows #3)

by Kathryn Ann Kingsley

The whole idea of beginnings was a foolish concept. Things did not begin or end. They looped, if nothing else. Life led to death, death led to life, the seasons cycled, the sun circled the sky with the moon as the other half of its pair.

Solve the Maze. What does that even mean? It has no true center. Everything shifts and moves around at Valroy’s will. How am I meant to answer a question when I do not even know what is being asked of me?

“And I do not wish to kill Valroy for the same reasons you suffer him as a friend. For there is a strange something to him that I should find repulsive, and yet I do not.” “Then you are beginning to understand.” He squeezed her hand again gently. “And there is hope.” “Hope for what?” “That you might solve the Maze.”

“I want to lay you down in a field of grass and flowers,” he murmured, his words only for her. “I want to kiss every inch of your naked body and make good on my threat to count every single freckle you own.” He tightened his grasp on her thigh, just a little. “I want to bring you pleasure like you have never known. I will make you feel as though you are amongst the stars. You will feel such bliss, Abigail…that is all I want from you.”

He knew. He knew the make and manner of the poison she had sunk deep into his veins. It was love. And it was love that he was desperate to have returned.

“You are trying to destroy two worlds. I should not feel this way about a man who wishes such death and destruction. I can accept that you are Unseelie. I can accept the cruelty that is your nature. But all that death? I will find a way to stop you.” She shut her eyes, tilting her head into his touch. “But here I am, sitting in your lap, and I…” “You and I may fight in one moment and make love the next. You needn’t be my ally to be my lover.”

The humans had earned his respect that day, though he ended his tale with “too bad I had to kill them for it.”

“I find your sadness hurts me as if it were my own. Your death…I thought a piece of me died with you that day, and I would never get it back.”

“Did Marcus never do this?” He arched an eyebrow. All he received in return was her cheeks growing hot as if they burst into flames. He shook his head. “Human men. His loss.”

Valroy was a dangerous opponent to play on the board of politics. He was clever, and he would manipulate any situation to suit him best. It was not that he outclassed her outright, it was simply that he seemed to have no weaknesses that she could exploit. Until now. Abigail was the perfect flaw. She was precisely everything Valroy was not—sweet, gentle, kindhearted, and trusting—and precisely everything Valroy hungered for. She was beautiful, ignorant of her own sensuality, and for all intents and purposes she might as well be an irresistible sugary treat on a tray set just out of reach. A tray that was not to be eaten from.

And a man who was in love was a man who was vulnerable.

love her. By the stars, I love her. And I am terrified of what that means.

“I might be able to manage. And if not, I can apparently grow myself some clothing. If you can call it that.” She wrinkled her nose. “The vines…do their best.” He leaned against a stone column nearby, watching her with yet another mischievous glint to his eye. “I would love to see that…” “No, because I believe it might hurt when you insisted on ripping them off me.” She did her best to ignore his howling laughter

“You think he’s to blame for this? Feh. You have too much to learn, queen.” “I am not queen.” The blacksmith sneered. “Oh? ‘Hurt her and you shall suffer,’ he says. ‘Protect her. Show her. Teach her.’ What the fuck does that make you if not his queen?”

“The willow bends against the wind, but it does not snap. The rumbles of the earth might topple the mightiest trees, yet life grows from its fallen form.”

“You…you know?” “Not in as many words. He has not said it to me.” She broke off a piece of bread on her plate and fiddled with it idly. “But I knew when I saw him at the edge of the Gle’Golun, pleading with me to return to him. I saw his pain, and it was not the agony of a man who had simply lost his new toy. I see it in his eyes when he is tender with me. I hear it in his laughter. It is why I do not truly fear his wrath, even though I should.”

I will protect you. I will love you. I will set the sky aflame for you. But I cannot change who I am. I cannot change what I was made to be. Not even for you. And my heart will shatter to pieces for it.

“Do you know the last time I was kissed by someone in true affection? Without the lust for my flesh or my power behind it?” His smile turned a little sad. “Because I do not.”

“I cannot hate you for crimes you have not yet committed.” “Everyone else does.” “I am not everyone else.” She glared down at him.

“You will be my queen, or I shall be dead. You must decide which it is you want. For I cannot—I shall not—live without you, Abigail.” He tightened an arm around her. “And I am quite pleased to say you shall have no say in the matter, dear witch.”

And you are the doe who, once conquered, rises to run again. You and I will play this game again and again until the stars blink out and die…you are my queen already, you simply have yet to accept it.”

“Our Seelie witch woke up this morning and had but one request—one thing to say to me—and that was that she desired to see the most terrible horrors my Maze had to offer.” He laughed, a cruel and sarcastic sound. “She woke up with the overwhelming need to hate me, Bayodan.” Dark eyebrows furrowed into thought as the fae lord looked away into the darkness of the woods, his tail swishing harder. “I made her mine. I showed her all the pleasure that I could offer her. I was kind to her. I cared for her.” He dug his nails into his palms, the stinging pain giving him focus. “I love her, Bayodan. And she knows this. She sees my love. And this—this is how she responds.” The goat king let out a long, heavy sigh. He shook his head. “I do not believe she wishes to hurt you. That is not her way. But she has much to measure.” “Much to measure?” Valroy scoffed, then grinned. “She knows the measure of me now, I can promise you that. I doubt she will ever forget it.” That earned him an eyeroll. “You know what I mean.”

“To think that she weighs my love for her and still finds it inadequate against the rest of who I am? It…I have never loved anyone, Bayodan. Is this how it always shall be?”

“Because she does not yet understand why these places must exist! You have shown her the greatest darkness Tir n’Aill has to offer, without giving her the greatest joy to anchor it.” “Have I not offered exactly that?” Valroy bared his teeth in anger and stepped toward the goat king, putting his palm to his chest. “If I am not enough for her, then so be it!”

All the trees in the Maze were deeply disturbed. But these were something else entirely. She let out a wavering breath. She was shocked to find herself still standing. She would let herself share in their pain. In their horror. It was only right. But she would not let it happen until she knew precisely what they were. And why they would not stop screaming.

“And would you destroy the rest? Would you rip apart the Maze at its seams, with your Gle’Golun? Would you free every soul within its reach that cries out in pain?”

“Righteous?” He chuckled darkly. “Do you think the Seelie are any kinder to ours that they hold prisoner? They may not scream in pain, Abigail, but they meet no gentler fate. Next time you are in the Daylight Court, ask their queen. As for the sense behind it all?” He shook his head. “Why do you think the Morrigan made Valroy in the first place?” “Titania said it was not so violent until he arrived. That there was a measure of peace.” “Titania is a lying bitch.” Cruinn huffed a laugh.

“Dagda and Bres were brothers. Dagda the Seelie King, and Bres his half-demon kin, wore the Silver Crown of the Unseelie. And yes, for a time, all seemed as well as it could. There were spats, of course, between our kind. Battles now and then, skirmishes and schemes. For what are immortals to do but play such games?”

“And Dagda murdered Bres before us all. He said it was because the Unseelie’s murderous ways could not be allowed to continue. That he was righteous in his deed. That it was a mercy. He expected that, with the throne vacant, there would be no one to rise against him.”

Darkness had come. And the darkness was angry. Stepping from the very first shadows that formed along the edges of the trees that ringed the throne room was a figure who, despite their history together, still made her shrink back in fear.

“Did you think I would ever let you go? The woman I loved died once before my eyes. I was not about to let it happen twice.”

Abigail had bargained for a thousand years of peace. In truth, she had simply bargained for him not to throw the first punch. He did not need to start the war. But he would be the one who ended it.

“As much fun as it is to watch you stumble about, terrified for your life, I do prefer you when you’re being feisty.”

How the world feels whole when Unseelie and Seelie mate.”

“Never shall I lie to you, my princess. My queen. My wife. Never. For while you play idle with your words…if you but once gazed upon me with betrayal in your eyes, I would not know how to live with myself.” He grinned. “That is a depth too low, even for me. No, my darling, sweet little Seelie witch. You have my loyalty, and my honesty, until the stars burn to dust.”

“Shall I play games?” He grinned. “Of course. How else shall I inspire you to glare at me with such delicious fury? But betrayal? Lies? No.”

“Do you want a slave, Prince Valroy? A broken thing that kneels and kisses your feet?”

“Or do you want a queen?”

“Valroy has only ever been known to take his ‘lovers.’” Titania rolled her eyes at the word. “More like victims. The crowd expected you to be flattened to the ground by him. Instead, what I was told they saw was ‘a joining of equals.’

“Has the Maze always been here?” “As far as I know, yes. But it never had a keeper—not before Valroy.”