Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123190 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“She can’t be queen of an entire court when she doesn’t even want to be fae.”
Amira’s quiet for a beat, then adds, “You deserve love. A true romantic partner.”
I watch him from the corner of my eye as he drags his hands through the waves of his silky black hair.
“You’d have me give your throne and your crown to a young human?”
“She’ll not be human for much longer.”
Misha turns sad eyes on his former wife. It’s hard not to stare when I want to analyze every emotion flitting across his beautiful face. He strolls slowly toward her. “What about you?”
She laughs lightly. “What about me?”
“You are the Wild Fae queen.”
“Not anymore.”
“You’re beloved by your people. And I wouldn’t have allowed you to release me from this marriage if I hadn’t believed you were looking to pursue your own great love.”
She strokes his cheek, and I drag my gaze away, imagining the feel of rough whiskers and soft skin. It makes no sense to be jealous of her. Not when their marriage was no marriage at all. But it doesn’t matter that there’s no romance between them. Misha may call Abriella his best friend, but it’s Amira who knows him better than anyone.
“I had my own great love for a time,” she says.
“But perhaps you could have her again,” Misha says.
“She’s never forgiven me for choosing duty over love. I won’t ask her to do so after all these years.” Her gaze flicks to where I’m standing—staring—at their plated meals, ready on the table. “That will be all, Welsey. If you need nothing from us, you can come gather the dishes later.”
I shake my head before rushing from the room. I wait in the hallway until they call for me.
Chapter Eighteen
Jasalyn
“MY BLOOD IS YOURS TO wield. Your blood is mine to preserve,” the young fae warrior before me pledges, his dark head lowered in deference. “Blood for blood, magic for magic, life for life, I declare myself your servant.” He slices into his palm, watching the blood well up there before making a fist and directing it to flow into the goblet between us. With a brief swirl to mix the contents, he lifts the goblet to his lips and takes a drink.
They line up for their chance to bow to me, for their opportunity to bend a knee to the king they deserve, the king who would never abandon them for the sake of a lowly human. It is I who will protect their rights as magical beings. It is I who recognize their birthright as members of the fae elite.
“You honor me,” I say, accepting the goblet from him. I take a drink of our combined blood and close my eyes as I feel his power—his magic, his life force—attach to mine. “Now your death shall never be in vain, and through me, you too shall reign forever.”
The hands are everywhere, holding me down while his magic cuts into my skin like a hot knife sliding through butter. He always makes me meet his eyes. “Look at me, little human. Why are you so scared? Together we can rule the world.”
“Look at me, Jasalyn.” Hands on my shoulders, rough fingers on my chin. “Look at me. Come back to me.”
The voice cuts through the fog of my nightmare, but the memory pins me down like those too-strong hands. “Wake up, little human.”
“Please, Jas. Look at me.”
I blink and focus on the blue eyes in front of me. Blue. Not silver. Not Mordeus. “Kendrick,” I whisper, and I lean forward to kiss him—to touch those lips to mine. Because I need to. It’s what I want, and something nameless drives me to take. The comfort of his mouth, the warmth of his embrace.
He pulls back. Keeps me at a distance with stiff arms, hands on my shoulders. “No.”
“No?”
“Jas. The ring.”
“The ring?” I glance down to my hand, remembering—the ring, the magic, the kiss—and see where we are. My whole body goes cold.
We’re in the forest, and the midmorning light sifts through the trees, casting dappled shade on Kendrick’s worry-stricken face.
How did I get here? Did I black out?
A spike of panic has me scanning the trees, and I catch sight of Gommid a few feet away. His lips purse into a frown before he disappears.
“What happened?” I look side to side, searching for an explanation. Several yards behind Kendrick, standing with two horses by the trees, Remme and Skylar stare with adoring eyes that tell me my ring has them in its grip.
The last thing I remember is listening to Kendrick and Skylar argue. When did I put on the ring? Did I have Gommid take me somewhere?
“Jas.” He cups my face, eyes scanning every inch and strokes my jaw with his thumb. “Where did you go?”
“I don’t . . .” Dizziness crashes over me, and I close my eyes. I reached for him. I almost kissed him.