“I didn’t miss you,” I finally say, but it’s a lie. I didn’t go more than a few seconds without thinking about him today. Each time I heard footsteps in the hall or voices approaching the bedchamber, my heart would start racing, and I would feel jittery as I anticipated his imminent arrival. Then, after the footsteps or the voices faded down the corridor, I would be left to contend with my sudden disappointment.
The lines around his eyes crinkle as he smiles. He shifts his hands from my shoulders and cups my face. His thumbs immediately start tracing circles on my cheeks, and I can’t help but quiver at his touch. My head swims with the familiar pleasant delirium of being close to a trusted lover… but surely that can’t be right.
He’s not my lover. We’ve never even kissed.
He’s my captor. He’s the cruel fae king I wish to escape.
“I don’t believe you, darling human,” he says with a wicked chuckle that somehow prompts another pang of warmth between my thighs. “I think you missed me terribly. I thinkyou were out here on this balcony waiting and watching for my return.”
I scoff and pull away from him. I march into the room and close the balcony doors in his face. However, the doors don’t remain shut for long. I don’t make it more than three steps into the bedchamber before the doors burst open under a gust of winter wind. The familiar buzz of fae magic swirls through the air, causing my flesh to tingle. It’s a jarring sensation, though I can’t claim it’s unpleasant.
My heart lodges in my throat at the intent look in his eyes. He follows me inside. For every step backward that I take, he takes two or three until he finally reaches me.
“No one has ever slammed a door in my face,” he says in a shocked tone. His eyes hold a glimmer of surprise as he narrows his brows.
My pulse spikes. Have I finally angered him? Truly angered him? Perhaps I was a fool to believe he wouldn’t hurt me. Not only is he a highborn fae, but he’s the Winter King. And though I don’t know the details of his lineage, I know enough to fear the power that flows in his veins.
My mother’s warnings come back to me, a frantic whisper in my mind.
The fae of Spring and Summer are dangerous, yes, but they still carry more Seelie blood than Unseelie. Their magic leans toward the light, though it is still imbued with trickery and cruelty.
But the fae of Autumn and Winter are different. Darker. They are descended from Unseelie blood, their power drawn from shadow and cold.
If there are fae you must never cross, never trust, never provoke, it is those born of Autumn and Winter.
King Theron grabs me, pulling me flush against his hard, muscular body. His eyes sparkle with dark intent and passion.His hardness presses against my stomach. A groan escapes his lips, and I suddenly can’t stop glancing at his mouth and imagining what it would be like to kiss him.
Surely a kiss from the Winter King would destroy me.
The balcony doors slam shut under a frigid gust of wind that ruffles my hair. His hands shift from my cheeks as he works to tame my errant tresses, slowly and tenderly tucking several locks behind my ears. As he tends to me, he keeps his hardness pressed to my stomach.
Though he’s not really holding me anymore, I don’t back away. I remain very still as he combs his fingers through my mussed hair. I savor the feel of his huge erection poking at my stomach through the layers of our clothing, a testament to his desire for me.
“Tonight,” he says as he keeps running his fingers through my hair, “you will refrain from stacking pillows between us. Tonight, you will let me hold you.”
CHAPTER 14
THERON
My heart racesas I guide Helena toward the bed. I can tell she’s recently bathed, as her skin is giving off that freshly scrubbed glow, and she smells strongly of eucalyptus and lavender, though the scent of frost flowers remains strongest. I lean close to her and take a deep inhale. A growl of pleasure vibrates in my throat. Gods, she smells delicious. Everything about her is enticing.
I am eager to hold her tonight.
“Have you eaten dinner?” I ask.
“Yes. The slaves brought it hours ago. Um, what about you? Have you eaten?” She turns in my arms and peers up at me, her lips slightly parted, her face beautifully flushed.
“I’m touched that you’re so concerned for my welfare, darling human.” I smile. “But yes, I already had dinner in the banquet hall. I regret that I could not join you for the evening meal, but I had to finalize the plans for tomorrow with my commanders and soldiers.”
“The plans for tomorrow,” she repeats with a frown. “Tribute Day.”
“Yes, Tribute Day.” I study her expression, trying to discern why her visage has suddenly darkened. Is it because she cares about her people as a whole, all the humans who live in Braemar? Or is she worried about someone in particular?
Her housemates? She’d mentioned sharing a house with others. Perhaps she worries about what will happen if they arrive at the castle without the required tribute.
“Whoare you worried about?” I ask. “Give me their names, and perhaps when they arrive to pay tribute, I will show them mercy even if they don’t have the required ten pieces of silver.”
“Well, thankfully, the only people I really care about have the ten pieces of silver ready and waiting. However, I’ve heard stories about your people just simplytakingyoung women and men during Tribute Day. Just because they wanted to. Even if their family had the required tribute. In the preceding months, the traveling merchants who visit Braemar have been arriving with more stories about the fae, each one more frightening than the last. I-I didn’t want to believe the stories were true. I thought surely they were too fantastical. But now the Winter Court army is here and tomorrow is Tribute Day. It’s just as the traveling merchants warned.” Her frown deepens, and I don’t like seeing her look so troubled.
