“And you?” Ani had wondered, more than a few times. Gancanaghs left mortals starving for affection, drove them mad with wanting and never being sated. Being Dark King made Irial safe for centuries, but now Niall was safe and Irial was once more addictive to mortals. And had been before. She held Irial’s gaze and asked, “Did you… were you okay with the ones you killed?”

“Sometimes.”

She swallowed against her dry mouth. “Oh.”

“For most of my life, I’ve led the court of nightmares, Ani. I’ve damaged the two people I’ve loved.” He let his emotions wash over her—sorrow, anger, but not regret. “I bound the Summer King, who was a friend’s son. I’ve ordered more deaths than I could count, done things too perverse to speak of.”

“Do you regret any of it?” she whispered.

“No.” Irial paused at a sound. Heavy footsteps crossed the floor, stopped outside the door, but then turned away. “I made the best decisions I could. I took care of my court. I still do. Sometimes that means killing people. My court— and now my king—come first.”

“I would do whatever my king ordered,” she assured him. “I’d rather not kill with this though. Give me a fair fight and—”

“I know.” Irial pulled her into his embrace, holding her carefully. “He wouldn’t like using your hunger as a weapon any more than you would.”

“You would. You still do the things Niall wouldn’t want to.”

Irial didn’t answer, but it wasn’t really a question. “We’ll figure it out. You’ll be strong and safe, Ani.”

She lifted her head and looked up at him. “Can I crash here for a few?”

“Keep your clothes on, and you’re welcome to stay.”

Chapter 10

Ani felt like she’d just drifted off when she woke to snarls.

“Are you completely without any sense?” Niall stood above her, scowling. On either side of him, abyss-guardians swayed and patted him consolingly.

She blinked up at him, trying to understand why the Dark King was angry with her, but before she could answer, someone else did.

“What difference does it make to you?” Irial sounded nonplussed. His arm stayed around her, keeping her still as he spoke.

The cover that someone had tucked around them was pulled all the way up to her neck, and she was nestled against Irial’s bare chest.

“She’s Gabriel’s daughter. She’s half-mortal… and you—” Niall reached down as if to pull her out of Irial’s embrace.

“Don’t.” Irial’s voice wasn’t the agreeable sound of a subject before his king.

Ani sighed. A bit of violence would be a perfect next step in an already pleasant morning.

If only…

“You’re not the king anymore, Irial. Do you want to challenge me?”

There was laughter in Irial’s voice when he answered, “Don’t be foolish.”

“You’re a Gancanagh again.” Niall sounded weary. “I don’t know if her mortal side is dominant enough to make you addictive to her.”

“Ani is barely mortal. Look at her. The only thing mortal about her is her strength… and with time and a little training, who knows?” Irial sounded irritated, but Ani couldn’t tell if it was real. He’d locked his emotions down now that Niall was in the room.

“Are you going to tell Gabriel that?” Niall’s voice dropped even lower, not that anyone in the house would spill the Dark King’s secrets, but he was cautious. “Because I’m not going to tell him that you decided she was fey enough to fu—to sleep with.”

Ani sighed again. Niall was actually kind of sexy now that he was furious instead of sulking. Shadows extended from him like the whispered suggestion of wings, and the lack of light made the lengthy scar on his face look menacing.

“He’s tasty when he’s like this,” she whispered.

“Hop up, sweetheart.” Irial didn’t laugh, but it was just there under the edge of his voice.

“I’m comfortable and”—she glanced at the clock and then at her king—“who gets up at this hour? I just got to sleep.”

“You can sleep in my room for a few more hours,” Irial said.

Niall held out a hand; even in his anger, he was a gentleman.

Reluctantly, she took Niall’s hand and stood up—thereby revealing just how clothed she was. At the confused look on her king’s face, she leaned in and whispered, “Trust me: I tried, but he shot me down.”

She glanced back at Irial, who was still stretched out on the sofa, topless and languid. If she hadn’t been there, she’d think he’d truly had a night of indulgence from the look of him.

Niall followed her gaze, but he didn’t soften at the sight. “I’m not in the mood to play games, Irial.”

“Go upstairs, Ani.” Irial swung his feet to the floor. He didn’t glance her way. His attention was all for the Dark King now. “Tell me what you think I should’ve done differently, Niall. I spent the night talking and giving her a safe place to rest. I gave her the nourishment she can’t find elsewhere without compromising her already absent virtue.”

The Dark King didn’t respond.

Several moments passed in a silent standoff. Ani crossed the room and slid open one of the ornately carved double doors that led to the most private part of the Dark King’s home.