Page 21 of Heart of the Fae King

Her frown creased deeper, as if the thought of getting out of bed physically pained her. “Now?”

“You have to eat dinner, anyway. I know you’ve barely had anything all day, and I need to take you to the main floor.”

Smothering a sigh, she flicked her gaze toward the window, running a hand through her tangled chestnut waves. “All right,” she agreed, throwing the covers aside.

Relief overcame me as I extended a hand to help her out of bed and she accepted it, the two of us heading across the hall to our shared room. She went into the dressing room, and I waited for her on one of the gray accent chairs in the bedroom.

“Why haven’t you come out, Maren?” I sighed. “It’s not good for you or the baby to stay cooped up like this.”

She laughed mirthlessly. “What difference does it make if I’m in a room or in this monstrosity? I’m still locked up either way. The baby doesn’t know the difference.”

“The baby can sense that you’re unhappy, Maren,” I corrected her.

“I don’t need you to tell me what my baby feels. It is growing inside me, not you. I know they can feel every tear I shed, every twist of my heart, every sleepless night. But thank you for reminding me.”

Her eyes flashed, and I inhaled sharply. “I didn’t mean?—”

She grunted, cutting me off. “Did you come here to give me another lecture? Because I can do without it—and the lessons on how to be a mother.”

My frustration with her narrow view grew. “You do understand why I’m keeping you here, don’t you?”

Maren didn’t reply, and I ground my teeth together, determined to make this work. She emerged a minute later, barely presentable in a tracksuit, her hair uncombed, cheeks pale.

“Come here,” I told her tenderly as I rose, extending my arms toward her. Reluctantly, she allowed me to embrace her. “Sit down.”

I guided her to the bed and entered the bathroom, finding a hairbrush. I sat behind her on the oversized mattress and began to gently stroke her shoulder-length tresses.

Slowly, her shoulders sagged as I worked, her body relaxing despite her mood. “We’re going to make this work,” I promised her, turning her around once I’d finished. “Will you let me try, at least?”

She turned her head, the classic, beautiful profile stealing my breath like it always did, regardless of how much time I spent with her.

“I’d like that, Nyx, but I feel like I’m fading away here. I don’t even feel like myself anymore.”

I set the brush down on the nightstand and stood, extending my hand toward her.

“Then let’s do something about that,” I offered.

With a sigh, she accepted my proffered palm, and we moved toward the door, my hand on her waist.

On the main floor, I stopped one of the butlers. “Is everyone here?” I asked.

“Everyone?” Maren demanded in alarm, life flaring into her eyes for the first time. “I don’t want to see anyone tonight, Nyx.”

“I promise you’ll want to see who’s here,” I assured her, but she began to drag her feet as I led her down the hall. “Come on, Little Muse. You don’t want to keep them waiting.”

She was hesitant, but she didn’t complain, despite her clear apprehension, and when we stopped in front of the theater doors, she stared at me blankly. “What are we doing here?”

“You’ll see,” I told her, throwing open the doors.

Inside, half a dozen of the dancers from Maximo’s waited in various areas of the theater.

Tristiana jumped up from the stage when she saw us, relief washing over her face.

“Thank the gods,” she mumbled, hurrying toward us. “I thought we were in trouble or something.”

I looked at the guards at the door skeptically. “What did you say to them?” I asked warily.

“What you told us to say, Alpha,” one of the officers replied. “That the king requested their presence.”

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