“Her name is Moira Foy,” he announced, sounding more certain than he ever had before when they’d done this. “It’s her, Don. I know it.”
“Keenan,” Donia snapped, a cloud of frigid air slipping out with her voice. “She doesn’t like you.”
“She will.” Then he said the words that’d sealed so many mortal girls’ fates. “I’ve dreamed about her. She’s the one.”
Keenan glowed more than she’d seen in fifty years. There was a spark in his eyes, a flicker of fire she hadn’t seen when he’s looked at the other girls. He grabbed her hands regardless of the pain it caused in her skin and her heart. “Things are going to get better.”
“Congratulations . . .”
“She was leaving town, but I asked. She’ll be back in a few days.” Keenan glimmered with the sunsparks. “I’ve found her, Don. I’m sure this time.”
And Donia was equally sure. This felt different, but she said nothing.
“Once she says ‘yes,’ we’ll both be free. You won’t hurt, and I’ll be at my full strength.” Keenan brushed his lips over hers. “I feel it. This is the start of the end of the curse. We can still--”
“I still have to convince her not to love you,” Donia pointed out. “I’m as bound as you are.”
He nodded but he didn’t believe her, not truly. She could see it in his eyes, and as she looked at the way he was smiling, Donia had no doubt she could convince Moira Foy to reject him.
Keenan was half-in-love with Moira already.
It was the nature of the curse, even though he was Donia’s beloved, he wasn’t hers to keep. She could admit to herself that he was and would always be her “one,” her fairy tale prince, even though he wasn’t destined to be hers.
What we just had was nothing more than a winter dream. And as the Summer King stared at the building, that dream evaporated. A mortal girl was slowly becoming fey, and soon she’d either reject him or take the test.
Either way, Keenan was no longer looking at Donia. The curse made this sudden love he felt for mortal after mortal inevitable, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.
“You’ll see,” Keenan swore. “She’s the one, Don. Everything will change now!”
And Donia blinked away her tears before leaning in and kissing his cheek. “I believe in you, Keenan.”
She did, and even though she would try to convince Moira to refuse Keenan, Donia now also wanted him to succeed. They all needed Winter to stop growing in power, and Donia needed to be free of him before the love in her heart turned to hate.
The End
Author’s Note:
This story of Ash Foy’s mother—as addressed in my first novel, Wicked Lovely—is the story of a young woman who ran away from the metaphorical “demons” pursuing her. In Moira’s story, those are faeries. In the real world, there are other demons many of us have wanted to run away from, or spite, or defeat. Ash’s mom in the story chose death over the Summer Court. I want to remind you though, that this was a fictional world. Out here in the real world, we keep fighting to overcome. We ask for help. We find a resource. I’ve watched loved ones struggle with depression and with crises. I’ve lost friends to suicide, to addiction, and to deaths hastened by other kinds of deadly choices. I have considered suicide, but after some rough patches I decided to seek help. Look to your local resources, trusted friend or family, or suicidepreventionlifeline.org.