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“But I’m happy with my family.” Her words are soft, pulling at my heartstrings, and she never breaks eye contact with the elder of the Summer Court.
The elder reaches out and takes her hands. “Be brave, Lady Cassia.” Then, he turns and disappears back into his chambers.
When he’s gone, Cassia looks at Sulien. “Is that all that came from your conversation with him?”
“All that needed to be said was said,” he tells her, a warning in his voice.
She looks angry. “This isn’t at all how the night was supposed to go.”
I don’t know why, but I find her reluctance to be my queen frustrating. “Yet many would consider it a blessing.”
She doesn’t look convinced.
I glance at Forrest. He’s locked in on her, trying to figure her out, too. Who is this woman who sees being queen as a bad thing? Who seems to dislike all of us so much? And why was she working as a maid, believed to be a human, until now?
Sulien walks over and touches Cassia on her shoulder, leaning in almost as if to whisper in her ear. “We need to talk.”
To my surprise, instead of one of her angry retorts, she nods, looking relieved.
She was ready to throw us away, but she’s relieved to speak with him? Alone? Why?
Something inside of me clenches and burns with anger. They’re both from the Summer Court. He probably knows her better than the rest of us. Perhaps they even had a relationship before the magic claimed them as mates.
An image of Sulien grabbing her away from Forrest earlier this evening flashes in my mind, and I wonder how well he knows her. She escaped from my arms, but she didn’t resist him. On the contrary, she seemed relieved to dance with him then, too.
Then there were her words when I first came upon her. She said she was looking for someone. Was it him all along? Is that who she wants instead of the four of us, just him?
I feel hotter and try to shake the feeling away, but it’s unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Jealousy. It’s jealousy I’m feeling. I try to push the feeling away, unaccustomed to being jealous of anyone.He may know her, but I’m Cobar of the Spring Court. It may take some work, but I’ll win her heart, too.
Still, when he leads her away, my jealousy grows.
TWELVE
Cassia
I don’t know where Prince Sulien wants to talk, but I sure as hell know why. He keeps my hand on his arm as we walk down the darkened halls, leaving behind the other fae princes. Outside of their company, the palace seems darker and colder. Or maybe the warmth of the three men made me forget how cold life really is. Either way, I feel uneasy as our steps echo down the empty halls.
What will Prince Sulien tell me?I hope it’s that he has a solution for this, but maybe that’s too easy. Maybe the mess we made will be harder to unravel than that.
To my surprise, the prince leads me to his bedroom, of all places. A room I’d so recently cleaned while fantasizing about his dick. When he opens the door, I hesitate for a moment, trying to ignore the memories rising up inside of me, but he leads me inside.
Somehow, it feels wrong to be here with him. Wrong to be alone with him. This arrangement is supposed to be on paper only.What will people think?
What will theotherprinces think?
I try to shake off the thought, because it doesn’t matter. I’m not really marrying them. One way or another, there’s a way out of this. I just hope Prince Sulien has already figured it out.
He releases me and closes the door behind us, then walks toward the fireplace. I pause, looking around the room. I’ve been here so many times before, but never this late. Never under circumstances that don’t involve my servitude. It feels… wrong to be here, in every way.
Even if the room is beautiful.
The moon breathes life into the large, well-decorated space, casting our shadows on the wall. The low fire illuminates his eyes, making them glow. As much as I hate it, he’s even more breathtaking in the moonlight, with the glow softening the hard lines of his face.
I watch him as he uses a poker to encourage the flames to grow, and then he tosses a log on before reaching out and touching the wood. The log is engulfed in fire in seconds, but his hand lingers in the flames, probably enjoying the heat like most summer fae.
My muscles clench as I study him. The asshole is so damn beautiful that his jawline could’ve been hand carved by the summer court’s finest sculptor. And as for the rest of him… his tight clothes are almost painted on, straining across his hard body, every inch defined by muscles.
It’s swoon worthy shit.
