I let this mantra repeat in my mind as we leave the castle, heading out toward the gardens. It feels whimsical and fantastical, as if I stepped into my very own fairy tale.
But in this fairy tale, I don’t get a prince.
I get a king.
We walk up a gentle hill that opens into a secluded clearing, the last bit of open space before the forest thickens. The grass is still lush and springy beneath my bare feet, despite winter quickly approaching. A small pond glimmers ahead, ringed by moss-covered rocks and lily pads that drift lazily across the water’s surface. Dragonflies skim the air above it, their wings catching the last of the sunlight.
Nestled beside the pond, Lady Thalia turns at the sound of my approach. Her golden gown flutters in the breeze, and her kind eyes sweep over me with approval. “Oh, Evangeline,” she says, her voice full of warmth, reminding me so much of my mother. “Look at how beautiful you are.”
Her words draw attention I’m not yet ready for. From a man I hadn’t noticed until now.
Niko turns. He breaks off from a quiet conversation with Zephyr and slowly pivots toward me. When his eyes meet mine, the world narrows to just that look. A look that’s intense, dark, and full of heat.
His gaze rakes over me, lingering, devouring. There’s hunger in it, admiration, and something rawer. Something that steals the air from my lungs. My breathcatches, knees trembling as if my body already knows I belong to him.
The silence stretches between us, heavy and electric.
I feel exposed under that look… but I don’t want to hide.
And then I see Zephyr.
His gaze scorches my skin as he looks me over head-to-toe. His tongue comes out and moistens his lips, and I can’t help but wonder what else his tongue is good for. A completely inappropriate thought about a man I’m not marrying and has no interest in mating me.
Or at leastclaimsto have no interest.
The lust in his eyes says differently. But maybe that’s all it is. Lust.
Whereas Niko’s need is pure hunger for me. Like one taste wouldn’t be enough. He moves with the grace and poise only a confident king can possess as he closes the distance between us. I may be fully dressed, but I feel completely exposed by the way his eyes roam over my body, lingering on my chest before meeting my gaze.
“You were born to be queen.”
His words are said with so much conviction, even I want to believe him. That I’m not simply a human woman from a humble upbringing, wanting to touch people with her food. Maybe this has been my destiny all along.
It’s quite a revelation, and one I don’t wish to ponder for too long. Not now.
Niko holds out a hand, his callused fingers reaching for mine. I hesitate for just a breath, mypalm hovering above his, trembling faintly with nerves. Then, slowly, I let him thread our fingers together.
“Shall we begin?” he asks, his voice low and steady. No hint of nerves.
There’s only one answer, but the words lodge in my throat. I’m about to be bonded to a fae king—something I never imagined, even in my wildest dreams. It almost doesn’t feel real, and yet, the reality of our situation stares me in the face.
So instead of speaking, I nod.
And I know at this moment, my world will never be the same.
Chapter 22
Zephyr
Evangeline is a vision come to life. A goddess in her own right. Her dress hugs every curve of her body, leaving very little to the imagination. The light from the torches surrounding us dances across her terracotta skin as if the shadows are caressing her. Niko’s desire trickles through the bond, hot and fierce. His need for her burns as bright as fire, nearly scorching me with its intensity.
I wait for the jealousy to consume me, turning my mood sour.
Fae are territorial of their mates by nature. What’s ours is ours—marked by blood, magic, love, and something deeper that can’t be undone. We don’t take kindly to others sniffing around what belongs to us. And Niko? He’s mine.
Goddess, there have been more times than I can count where I’ve had to clench my fists and bite back the urge to summon an ice dagger and drive it clean through some bastard’s eye just forlookingat him too long. Alingering gaze. A flirtatious smile. Even a laugh that edged too close to intimacy.
It doesn’t matter. The reaction is always the same—primal, fierce, and cold as winter’s breath because these fae have never been invited into our relationship. Niko is not just my mate; he’smine. Body, soul, scent, magic.
