Page 22 of How to Claim A Shadow King

She sighs, and I can tell from the set of her jaw, from the muscle ticking in her temple, that she doesn’t want to answer. “I always knew I wouldn’t pick, but…” her voice trails off.

“But?” My voice comes out hoarse.

“But I thought I could pick who I loved. If what you’ve said is true, if we’re… two souls that keep finding each other again, then how do I know it’s real?”

I stare at her, nearly stumbling in my surprise. “You’re saying if we’re fated mates, then your love for me wouldn’t be real?” Pain knifes through my chest, and I’m so… overcome with what she’s said that I don’t notice the male standing in front of us until it’s too late.

10

AVELINE

The very second his grip goes from casual to possessive I know something's wrong. My heart, which had momentarily been stilled by Malakai's disgustingly well-timed appearance saving me from the clutches of the creatures that will no doubt haunt my worst nightmares, I've been slowly regaining control of myself. And yet, the minute his fingers dig into my chilled, goosebumped skin, I know something has gone wrong again.

"Are they back?" I whisper, terror making the tips of my fingers cold.

"What are you doing here?" Malakai says, his gaze fixed on a point in front of us.

Part of me doesn't want to look, wants to sink into him and let him deal with whatever new terror has arrived because of my stupid decision to run into the woods away from the safety of a castle. Instead, though, I summon whatever bravery I have left, and I force myself to turn and look at whatever new trouble has inserted itself into my life. Starting to think I have a knack for it.

"What do you think I'm doing here?" the man standing in front of us answers.

He's beautiful in a way that no man I've ever seen is—broad-shouldered, strong-jawed, perfectly symmetrical features, a dust of gold coating his skin. Probably some trick of the light, I think to myself, until I notice the long pointed tips of his ears peeking out from the most beautiful flaxen hair I've ever seen. My fingers itch with the need to braid it.

"If you'd wanted to help, you would have shown up much sooner," Malakai says.

"Are you going to introduce me to your friend?" I ask him, all too aware of the fact that I'm covered in dirt, shivering, my leg is hurting and no doubt bleeding from where one of the rose brambles sliced my ankle open, and doing my very best to hold on to whatever dignity I have left.

"You need no introduction, Aveline, Duchess of Stormspire," the beautiful man says, bowing. Half of his mouth is turned up in amusement, but the smile doesn't make me feel better. He's too beautiful, too perfect, unsettling in his own strange way.

"If you think for a moment," Malakai begins, "that I will allow you to take my betrothed from me, you must think again, Seelie." Malakai spits the words out, and I stiffen with alarm as I realize just how much danger we find ourselves in again.

"Malakai, I know that you don't remember much about your last time here on Earth, but I went rogue from the Seelie Court centuries ago. While I may be Seelie in my blood and bones, my mind is my own. I'm here to lead you back to a path of safety," he vows, the smug grin he wore now melting off his face.

"The Seelie have never been better than their underground counterparts," Malakai all but growls, clutching me close to his heaving chest. He's essentially a slab of muscle, and I do everything in my power to completely ignore that fact and focus on the beautiful Fae in front of us.

"I never said that they weren't," the man says, turning his attention away from Malakai to me. "My name is Hash. And you have nothing to fear from me, Duchess. Neither you nor your husband," he says, never once turning his attention back to Malakai.

I swallow hard, trying my best to slow the thumping of my heart, to quell the bitter tang of fear that coats my tongue.

"Hash Beauchamp, at your service today and every day," he continues. "I'm delighted to finally make the witch queen's acquaintance."

"He's not my husband yet," I interrupt, needing to somehow regain the upper hand, needing to regain my sovereignty in this strange moment.

Malakai's shadows wrap around my ankles, my sodden slippers, beginning to shield me from view, even to myself.

"Stop that," I tell him, like I would admonish a naughty cat. "It's unsettling."

"So you do agree we will be wed?" Malakai presses.

I let out the heaviest sigh I think I've ever sighed in my life, and I look at Hash beseechingly. "Do you promise on your name as Hash Beauchamp to lead us to safety and back⁠—"

"Do not enter a bargain with a Fae," Malakai interrupts.

"I will do as I wish," I cut him off.

"I may be Seelie, but I am no Seelie with power. Those who follow the king are few and far between now," Hash says, his gaze trained back on Malakai, whose arms are like cords of steel where they press me to him.

It's too much. I wriggle, pushing against him, and he gives me a confounded look before he finally lets me down onto my own feet—a mistake, because I almost crumple where I stand, my ankles and feet half asleep from the strange way he'd been carrying me.