She stepped to the side to allow Rika and her mortal to enter the house. She looked out into the street beyond her yard, where the world looked like summer. It was a visible demarcation, the line between the two seasons. Out in the world summer was growing, but within her yard it was always winter. He had his Summer Garden, and she had her Winter Garden. Their courts still needed a home when the other held sway over the world. Donia took a moment’s comfort in the beautiful landscape—frost-covered lawn, trees bowed under the weight of snow and ice, unmarred fresh snow glistening.

Love doesn’t mean being under his control. It doesn’t mean giving in to his every whim or wish.

A former Winter Girl, especially one who had fled to the desert years ago, wouldn’t come here to the home of the reigning Winter Queen without serious reason. Donia focused her attention on the summer street, and her wintery climate expanded beyond her yard. New buds on the trees froze as she looked upon them. I won’t surrender all of my power for you, even now, she silently swore to the Summer King, who would no doubt be darkening her door soon. I am your equal now, Keenan. Come fight with me.

Then with the solemnity of early winter mornings, Donia turned away and resolutely closed the door.

Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Far from the Winter Queen’s home, Sionnach walked slowly through town with Carissa. He had spent several hours looking for Rika, checking all of her usual hideaways, but had been forced to admit defeat. She’d never been this angry with him, and he could admit—quietly, to himself—that he would be angry if he were in her position. Of course, he manipulated people and faeries as easily as he breathed, so he wouldn’t end up in her position. Still, he could allow that she had grounds for her ire. He’d simply wait for her to calm down and return, and while he waited, he’d enjoy a date with the mortal girl . . . and try to ignore his injuries.

Carissa was, like so many young mortal women, full of dreams and passions. It’s why faeries found them so alluring. Something about the impermanence of mortals seemed to make them crave living intensely. Things that would pass in a blink for those who lived for centuries were urgent to mortals. It was beautiful.