Ambrosia (Frost and Nectar Book 2)
Ambrosia: Chapter 4

I rolled over, staring at the man whose boot was pressed into Torin’s back, a towering fae with broad shoulders wrapped in bronze armor. He wore a crown of gilded scorpions that rested against his horns, and long white hair draped down his back.

I swallowed hard.

“Wait.” My mouth had gone dry, and I could no longer think clearly. “Let him go. He doesn’t belong here.” Could he understand me at all?

Black wings spread out behind him. They were gauzy and thin, like butterfly wings. He might have been beautiful if not for his expression. He looked ready to beat Torin to death.

He glanced at me, narrowing his amber eyes. Slowly, he lifted the boot off Torin’s back.

Torin flipped over, snapping the darts, and grabbed our attacker’s leg with both hands, twisting the Unseelie’s ankle in one direction and his knee in the other.

The white-haired Unseelie fell to the ground, the sound echoing through the forest.

But the stranger was only down a moment, and neither Torin nor I could stand. More Unseelie closed in on us. Dressed in furs and armor, leather, and moss, they shouted in their strange language.

An Unseelie with antlers grabbed me by the arms and jerked me to my feet. “Morgant,” he said, addressing the fae with the scorpion crown.

Panic started to crawl up my mind as I thought of what would happen to Torin here in hostile territory.

My body vibrated with pain from the toxins, and I wanted to curl into a ball somewhere and vomit. But I couldn’t because Morgant was pulling me onto a horse. Tossing me facedown over the animal’s back, he sprang up behind me and started down the forest path.

Lifting my head, I glanced back, horror hitting me like a fist. Tied to a rope, Torin was being dragged behind the horse.

I no longer cared about anything except replaceing a way to get him out of here. Unable to look at him, I turned away.

The forest thinned, and a distant castle came into view, rising from the rocks and mist. It loomed high above us, the base of it twisting like gnarled tree roots that blended into a gothic fortress.

The poison slid through my veins, blurring my vision. I screamed until my throat went hoarse and a fist slammed into the back of my skull.

I lay on a crooked floor, muscles burning and my head pounding. Moonlight cast cold light over my room, a strange sort of cell. Half of the walls seemed to be made of bluish bark that shot upward toward the sky, hundreds of feet in the air. The other half were made of stone, an iron door inset into the wall.

Pinpricks of silver dotted the darkness overhead, little rays of light for a cell both narrow and impossibly tall. In here, I had only shadows for company.

I ran my fingers over the place on my back where the darts had pierced me, wincing at the cramping of muscles whenever I moved. I tried to swallow, my throat parched.

“Torin?” My voice came out as a rasp.

The only response I got was the echoing of my own voice off the walls.

I dropped my head into my hands, trying to hold down my rising nausea. I didn’t know if Torin had even made it here alive.

If he had? Maybe he’d been able to open a portal to escape.

If he stayed here, the Unseelie would tear him apart.

With my head in my hands, I retched, but nothing came up. If the Unseelie really were monsters like Torin said, what the fuck did that say about me?

My throat was sandpaper. “Torin?” I tried again, breaking into a coughing fit.

I rose from the floor and hobbled over to the iron door. In desperation, I slammed my fist against it. “Hello?” I shouted. “Torin? Anyone?” The more I shouted, the more desperate I became for water. My throat felt like I’d swallowed broken glass.

Panic carved through me, and I turned back to my narrow, towering cell, my gaze flicking to the moonlight-pierced canopy above. As my eyes adjusted, I could make out the ruddy hues of the leaves.

If I’d been able to scale these walls, I could get out through them. But the stone and bark were too smooth for fingerholds.

My throat burned, and rushing water was all I could think about now, how soothing it would feel running down my throat.

I slumped against the bark and closed my eyes. I licked my dry lips and thought of Torin trying to run with me in his arms—then I envisioned us plunging into the river, where crystalline water streamed into our mouths.

If I couldn’t have any actual relief for my thirst, I’d have to manage with fantasy.