Page 36 of Chosen By the Fae King

“Well, that's reassuring,” I drawled, standing.

Liam's lips twitched in amusement. “Come, before he grows impatient.”

Liam placed a hand at the small of my back, guiding me away from the table. Once we cleared the room, he dropped his hand, but remained close the entire trek, which took us to the opposite end of Thornewood.

No servants or guards, or none that I could see, moved about. As opposed to the part of the castle the contestants occupied, this wing lacked life. The walls were bare stone without tapestries or paintings to break up the monotony. The only sound was our footsteps echoing off the floor as we made our way through the dimly lit corridors.

Liam stopped in front of a set of large, gilded doors. He pushed them open and motioned for me to enter ahead of him. I hesitated, feeling a surge of anxiety at facing Nox alone.

“You'll be fine, Miss Pissoff.”

Irked, I took a deep breath and stepped into Nox's private study. The room was much larger than I expected, with tall ceilings and shelves filled with books lining every wall. A large desk dominated the center of the room, covered with neat stacks of parchment and quills.

But my attention was drawn to the king, who stood gazing into the flames, hands clasped behind his back. He turned at our entrance, inclining his head. “Leave us.”

Liam gave a shallow bow and departed, the heavy doors closing behind him.

The room was warm and spacious. A large sitting area was situated before the crackling fireplace, separating me from Nox. It reminded me of the setup in the room where he'd kissed me.

Seeking a wide berth, I moved closer to the desk. This one seemed to suit him better. It was a simple design made of an obsidian wood. Rugged. Seemingly unbreakable.

I faced Nox, my heart rate increasing as his eyes swept my form, head to toe. It felt almost indecent. Though my skin was covered, the outfit left little to the imagination.

“You wished to speak with me, Your Majesty?”

“Nox.”

I refrained from rolling my eyes. “Nox.”

Crossing his arms, he leaned against the wall in that way he did. The stirrings of lust began. My skin felt tight.

Damn lean.

He, too, was dressed in combat attire, only instead of leggings he had on thick, comfortable looking combat trousers, with extra pockets for gods-knew-what. Cargo pants, I think the humans of Earth Realm called them.

His tight cotton shirt hugged every contour of his body, showing off the definition of his muscles. The fabric clung to the dips and ridges of his abdomen, emphasizing the strength in his arms and chest.

The color brought out the warm tone of his skin, drawing attention to the powerful shape of his body. Strong and capable. Built for battle.

Silence hung between us doing nothing to ease the tension or distract me from my wayward thoughts. I couldn't handle the quiet.

“Well?” I prodded more bravely than I felt. His spicy scent was cloying and heady. I needed to escape it.

“About yesterday ...” he began.

Nervous energy branched into my muscles, altering my posture. I didn't need Nox to tell me his thoughts on my performance. I was well aware.

“Don't,” I tried to warn. It came out like a plea.

His tongue touched that canine. A habit, I guessed.

“Not even to apologize for upsetting you?”

Apologize? What game was he trying to play?

“Did you mean the words you said?” I forced myself to ask. He couldn't lie so we both already knew the answer. Still, I wanted to hear him say it.

“Aeryn–”

---