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“I asked you what you did for fun, and your answer is human sacrifice?
They’re drugged ahead of time, and there are drums to drown out the screams.”
When was the last time you really felt alive, Ava?” Not anytime recently, I’d give him that. “I have no idea. Probably yelling at you in the bar.”
“No, Ava. We fuck each other hard up against the oak trees, rending the forest air with the sounds of our ecstasy. We fuck around bonfires, bathed in their flames.”
“I can see why you wouldn’t want a real wife. You’d miss out on the post-sacrifice orgies.
“Well, Ava,” said Moria, “playing with fire will get your fingers burned.” “Oh.” I widened my eyes. “Like this one?” I flipped her off, which seemed to be my new, very mature habit.
The changelings were usually demented, wild fae who served no purpose here in Faerie.
“I honestly can’t tell if you’re joking, so I will go ahead and explain. Your goal is to not get stabbed.”
“Your utter contempt for me is what makes it all the more exciting when I have you under my control.”
“So, in Faerie, it’s okay to punch a king?” “No, that’s a death penalty offense. But I won’t tell if you won’t. Here, in this clearing, there are no rules.”
“Nor you me. That is why you are perfect, my changeling. And that is why I crave your company.”
He reached out to touch my wrist, but when he did, it felt as if pure ice had been injected straight into my arm. “Ouch,” I gasped, yanking my arm away. King Torin’s eyes widened, but I saw that deathly cold flicker within them.
“I’m sending guards to your room, immediately. I won’t have anything happen to you.”
“We shouldn’t be reading this,” she whispered. “Go on.”
