The Ever King (The Ever Seas, #1)

by L.J. Andrews

Our people—the Night Folk fae—had the gods-gift of controlling the earth, while the Eastern realms with Jonas and Sander, used tricky magic of the mind and body. Mira’s people took the Southern and Western edges where fae could twist fate, shapeshift, or compel the mind with cantrips and illusions.

A match. It sounded so . . . dull. I didn’t just want a match because that was expected. I wanted passion, the burn that if my love didn’t touch me soon, I’d burst. I wanted heat, and mess, and obsession.

Such a beautiful little bird. What a pity it was that her serpent had come to ruin her.

She was never theirs anyway. Not really. From the moment the songbird tried to appeal to a serpent, she was mine.

“So, who are you, little bird?” A rush of something dangerous hummed in my bones. “Yours, I suppose. For a little while.” My shadow made a noise, a sound deep and throaty like a growl. He leaned his masked face near mine, the heat in his strange eyes burned in desire. “Speak more words like that, and I will need to keep you longer than a little while.”

“Hello, love. I promised I’d come for you. Have you figured my lie yet? For I have figured yours.”

Hate me, curse me, I cared little, so long as I was the first thought of her day and the last of her night.

And she was mine. In what capacity, I hadn’t decided. To ruin, to manipulate, to claim. Each had its merit and appeal.

You will be mine, meaning you are in my possession. You’re near me, in my palace, my chambers. We’re not exactly seeing eye to eye, love.”

I couldn’t rid my thoughts of her. To her, I might be hideous, but in spineless moments, I thought I might be content to kneel at her feet for the rest of my damn days if she healed the Ever.

“I found my mantle, Songbird. It’s you.” I paused for half a breath, then I kissed her.

From the first moment I laid eyes on the boy king, kneeling and defeated before the sea folk were locked away, I wanted to know him. Before the mantle. Before the rune mark. Before it all, I’d wanted to know him.

When he pulled away, he whispered, “Still hate me?” “Always,” I said, desperate to either shove him back or pull him close. I gripped the quilts. Erik’s mouth turned up in a half grin, but his words were rife in something soft, something vulnerable. “Hate me all you want, but don’t regret me. Promise me that.” Then I was left alone and wanting. Don’t regret me. If I were wise, that was exactly what I should do. I ought to regret letting my enemy put his mouth on my skin. I should retch at the idea he’d drawn out pleasure and sounds I didn’t know I could make. I should regret Erik Bloodsinger, but I didn’t. I wasn’t certain I ever would.

“Because I should not exist.” Celine glanced over her shoulder. “Please, I can’t tell you more. It isn’t a matter of wanting, I truly can’t for the sake of more than just me. But know this—you might detest what my king did to you, but Gavyn and I, we owe Erik Bloodsinger everything.”

There are no Ever queens.

My father could command the earth to break and bend, I commanded it to live. A sort of give and take of energy. I offered my magic, and the more vibrancy the earth returned, the longer I could use my own power.

I froze, but she wasn’t looking at me. I wasn’t sure she realized she’d taken hold and absorbed my fear unknowingly. Little by little, this tether between us was growing. Little by little, I was handing over my scorched, rotted heart. I couldn’t stop.

“I was raised to see scars as a sign of strength—or if you are me, a sign of clumsiness. Scars paint our stories, they give proof to the battles we’ve survived, the trials we’ve overcome. To me, what I see when I look at you, Erik Bloodsinger, is a king who has faced more than the kings before him.”

“You promised you would get me in your grasp, then watch me bleed. You’ve succeeded in that, and I hate you for it, Songbird.” A sharp crack carved through my chest, but before my heart fell out in shambles, Erik pulled my lips close to his. “I am in your hands, I am at your command, for you have made me love you, and you will be my destruction because of it.”

“If I cry your name,” she whispered against my lips. “Then you better shout mine, you bastard.”

I knew little about love. Distant memories of a beautiful mother who told me she loved me each day, but everyone else looked at me with fear or disdain. I had a blackened heart, one driven by power and restoring a shattered kingdom, but in this moment, whatever jagged pieces I had to give, I wanted them to be Livia’s.

Tait could actually read the desire of my heart? My desire was Bloodsinger. All of him, every scar, every glimpse of his beautiful black heart, I wanted for myself.

“My warning still stands. Do this and I’ll never give you back.” I cupped one side of his face. “Be sure before you do this, Serpent. Do this, and I claim you.”

I always imagined being exposed in such a way might cause me to curl away, to hide and recount all the physical flaws I found on my body. With the Ever King, the way he looked at me like something precious, something so stunning he might get on the ground and worship me, I embraced every searing glance.

His touch was chaos. Beautiful, intoxicating chaos. Gentle and rough, fast and tender. I might’ve been his destruction, but he was my ruin. I would break into a thousand pieces if it meant Erik was the one to piece them back together with his touch.

I touched the bottom curve of Erik’s lip. He was not without sharp edges, but to my soul I knew Erik Bloodsinger was a light in my darkness. He was the beautiful monster I would always want. I’d always love. Truth be told, I’d been falling for the Ever King since I saw his sunset eyes in the dim light of that barred cell.

“You, Erik Bloodsinger, are the kind of darkness I would follow across the skies and seas.”

He’d tossed me onto his throne. He . . . made me his equal.

“I wear the crown of the Ever, I sail the Ever Ship, I bear the mark of this kingdom. I. Am. Your. King. And she—” He pointed behind him. “She is mine. She is the Ever Queen.”

Perhaps I should be afraid of the look in Bloodsinger’s eyes. Possessive, unhinged, and wild. I wasn’t. I was lost to him. My mouth twisted into a small grin. You’re my beautiful monster.

“He is my desire, Alek.” I fingered the bone necklace around my throat. My beautiful monster. “He’s my hjärta. Bond or not.” Aleksi’s face softened. A hjärta meant one had found a love so deep it was the other beat of your heart, a true harmony between two souls.