Wicked Lovely. Melissa Marr

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      For Loch, Dylan, and Asia,

       who believed in me even when I didn’t, and the memories of John Marr Sr. and Marjorie Marr, whose presences linger and give me strength when I would falter

      Contents

      Prologue

       The Summer King knelt before her. “Is this what you…

      Chapter 1

       “Four-ball, side pocket.” Aislinn pushed the cue forward with a…

      Chapter 2

       As freaked as she was by the faery approaching her…

      Chapter 3

       Aislinn closed her eyes as she finished describing the faeries…

      Chapter 4

       On the outskirts of Huntsdale in a gorgeous Victorian estate…

      Chapter 5

       Donia knew Beira approached when the wind shifted, bringing a…

      Chapter 6

       On Monday Aislinn woke before the alarm went off. After…

      Chapter 7

       “Hello?” Leslie snapped her fingers in front of Aislinn’s face…

      Chapter 8

       Aislinn stood motionless, gazing in the direction of the vanishing…

      Chapter 9

       As she tried to make sense of the earlier events—Why…

      Chapter 10

       By the time she was far enough away from the…

      Chapter 11

       When Aislinn walked up the steps to Bishop O.C. the…

      Chapter 12

       When Donia walked into the library, she saw Seth. Aislinn’s…

      Chapter 13

       After the taxi dropped her at the railroad yard, Aislinn…

      Chapter 14

       By the end of the week, Aislinn was sure of…

      Chapter 15

       When Donia returned home from her evening walk, Beira was…

      Chapter 16

       Seth stirred the pasta absently. He glanced at her. “You…

      Chapter 17

       A half hour later Aislinn walked down Sixth Street, feeling…

      Chapter 18

       Early the next morning, Donia awakened on the floor, Sasha’s…

      Chapter 19

       Keenan was shaken when he left Donia; he walked aimlessly…

      Chapter 20

       When Aislinn woke—the clock’s red numbers proclaiming it past 9:00—the…

      Chapter 21

       Donia walked past the faeries outside Seth’s home—a few familiar…

      Chapter 22

       When Sunday morning came, Aislinn wasn’t surprised to find Grams…

      Chapter 23

       Donia knew who it was before she reached the door.

      Chapter 24

       Keenan stirred his drink idly. The Rath usually cheered him…

      Chapter 25

       Aislinn didn’t stop running until she was at Seth’s door.

      Chapter 26

       “It’s her.” Beira stomped her foot, setting frost rippling over…

      Chapter 27

       When Aislinn woke the next morning—still curled in Seth’s arms—she…

      Chapter 28

       Keenan heard Elena’s statements as clearly as if she were…

      Chapter 29

       Aislinn stood motionless as Keenan walked on. Some of the…

      Chapter 30

       Donia knew they were coming, but it still made her…

      Epilogue

       Clutching the silk-smooth wood of the Winter Queen’s staff—my staff—Donia…

      Acknowledgments

      About the Author

      Copyright

      About the Publisher

      PROLOGUE

      The Summer King knelt before her. “Is this what you freely choose, to risk winter’s chill?”

      She watched him—the boy she’d fallen in love with these past weeks. She’d never dreamed he was something other than human, but now his skin glowed as if flames flickered just under the surface, so strange and beautiful she couldn’t look away. “It’s what I want.”

      “You understand that if you are not the one, you’ll carry the Winter Queen’s chill until the next mortal risks this? And you’ll warn her not to trust me?” He paused, glancing at her with pain in his eyes.

      She nodded.

      “If she refuses me, you will tell the next girl and the next”—he moved closer—“and not until one accepts, will you be free of the cold.”

      “I do understand.” She smiled as reassuringly as she could, and then she walked over to the hawthorn bush. The leaves brushed against her arms as she bent down and reached under it.

      Her finger wrapped around the Winter Queen’s staff. It was a plain thing, worn as if countless hands had clenched the wood. It was those hands, those other girls who’d stood where she now did, she didn’t want to think about.

      She stood, hopeful and afraid.

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