“This is absurd,” Lukas said in a low voice. “Let’s just go. He can recover in the dungeons.”
My heart twisted. Arenn was cruel, wicked, and almost every part of me wanted to see him suffer in a grimy palace cell. But right now, with his groans echoing over the sand, I couldn’t see that wicked faery prince. Instead, I saw a patient.
And unfortunately, I was the only healer on this beach.
“We’ll take him back to the palace ourselves and find him a comfortable room to rest in,” I said, rising from the sand.
“What?” Lukas sputtered. “Why are you helping him?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” I replied. “Nowplease, will you help me carry him to the palace?”
Lukas scoffed. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” I shot back. “He can rest and then he can leave.”And then ideally he’ll be grateful enough to leave me alone for good.
The Drothmore King fixed me with a powerful glare before he begrudgingly took one of Arenn’s arms and hauled it over his shoulder. “He leaves as soon as he’s better,” he grumbled.
“The moment he’s well enough to stand,” I agreed.
And as I took his other arm, I tried my best to ignore the sounds of Arenn’s quiet laughter between his pained moans as we stumbled with him towards the palace.
CHAPTER 8
The moon was high in the sky by the time we neared the palace’s lantern-lit drawbridge. Still dripping wet, Lukas and I trudged down the sandy path with a groaning Arenn propped up between us. Through the gaps in the swaying palm trees, I could see the guards lining the palace entrance. We were steps away from crossing their sightline, when I pulled us all to a halt.
“Arenn, you need to hide your ears,” I hissed. Faeries might not be as hated here in Ryntook as they were back in Drothmore, but I really didn’t want the extra attention dragging a faery around the palace would bring. Especially after this morning’s disaster.
Straining to lift his head, the faery prince smiled tightly. “Anything for you, my love.”
Lukas cursed under his breath, but his anger soon gave way to dismay as Arenn’s long pointed ears shimmered and resized themselves to something much more human.
Exhaling raggedly, Arenn’s head flopped down again. Both Lukas and I buckled under the weight of his now limp body.
“Come on,” I panted, struggling to stay upright. “Let’s just get him inside.”
“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” Lukas muttered. With a scowl that could melt through steel, he snatched Arenn out of my grasp, hauled him over his shoulders and marched off towards the drawbridge.
I scurried closely behind the furious king all the way through the palace. When we finally reached the hallway leading to our bedchambers, Lukas paused and twisted around to face me.
“Go to your room, Naria.” His tone was short. “I’ll deal with this for now.”
“But where are you taking him?” I blurted, surprising myself with the concern in my voice.
A muscle ticked in Lukas’s jaw. “I’ll put him in my bedchamber, and I’ll make sure the guards know to keep an eye on him.” Something like hurt broke across his features, but only briefly, before his gaze darkened and he continued in a cold tone, “Now do as I said, go to your room and lock the door until I come for you.”
“But where will you sleep?” I stepped forward.
“With my future wife, of course.”
My stomach dipped. “Oh…”
He studied me for a brief moment before turning away, still carrying the faery prince over his shoulders.
A breath whooshed out of me as heat stained my cheeks. We could share a bed. Bed sharing would be fine. I’d sleep just like I normally would. Except now there’d be a man just inches away, his chest warming my back, his hands close enough to slip around my—
“And, Naria?” Lukas called from down the hallway, making me squeak in surprise. “Stop thinking what you’re thinking. I won’t take your virtue until we’re married, no matter how much I might want to with your faery prince down the hall.” He muttered that last part under his breath, but I still heard him.
As I rushed to my bedchamber, I tried to think of anything else while searching for the most modest nightgown I owned.
