Page 24 of Chosen By the Fae King

His tongue touched one of his canines. “No, little hellion. I'm not using any of my powers to make you feel what you're feeling. That's all you and it's completely natural.”

The king prowled closer, tugging on a strand of my hair. “I don't think that's why you asked to see me, so why don't you get that part over with and then we can move on to more interesting topics.”

I took a step back and Nox took the hint, returning to lean against the bedpost. Something about that lean really got to me, but he was giving me a chance to speak plainly so I needed to take it.

“As you know, I was not drawn from the names. Sofiya had no desire to be chosen for the trials and neither did I, despite how I tried to take her place.”

“I'm well aware,” he smirked. “I assume there's a request you wish to make?”

“Sofiya and I aren't queen material. I know we've only been here a short time but surely you've been paying attention.”

Nox's lips flattened. “The selection process, the magic we put behind it, did not allow for anyone to be chosen who could not fulfill the role–or give me heirs worthy of the crown.”

Give him worthy heirs? I pictured Zoriyah's haughty face. “Surely you jest. Some of the contestants are backstabbing, power-hungry harlots.”

“None of those traits mean they're incapable of fulfilling the duties of a queen. In fact, the trials can prove their ability to handle the pressures of the throne.”

“But to raise younglings who are worthy?”

“I'd never allow a backstabbing, power-hungry harlot to raise my offspring. She needs only to help me produce them.”

I had no idea how to react to that. And I really didn't need my mind to conjure thoughts of him in the act of trying to produce his heirs.

Gathering my courage, I made my request. “Send me and Sofiya home.”

His face grew dark. “Absolutely not,” he denied moodily.

“Why not? We come from a farming village. We don't fit here. We aren't warriors. We aren't interested in fashion or expensive things. And we have no experience with the politics of the kingdom.”

“Your background doesn't matter,” he stressed.

“I would be an enormous disappointment to you. As your wife, I'm sure you would find me lacking in every way.”

Gods, why were those words more difficult to say than the others?

Nox closed in on me until I was backed up to the wall. Heat rolled off his frame, enticing and seductive.

“I highly doubt that's possible, little hellion,” he murmured.

“You're not taking me seriously.”

“I assure you I am. I take everything you say and do very seriously.”

“Then send me back to Greenhollow where you never have to look or think of me again!”

He stood motionless, not so much as blinking. Red crept under his olive skin. A muscle in his jaw ticked.

“Listen very carefully to your king,” he growled, pressing into me.

I gasped as the solid weight of his body pinned me in place. My heart pounded wildly as we glared at one another.

“My father found my mother through these trials and he was a very, very content male. It was his desire for me to have the same experience.”

I swallowed. I'd forgotten Nox had only recently lost his father. His mother had died shortly after the last war, assassinated on a trip around the kingdom. Though I had empathy for his losses, I had none for his decision to continue the trials.

A calloused hand cupped my jaw. I knocked it away, ignoring the bolt of electricity at the brief contact.

Nox laughed, a low rumble that did nothing to ease the riot of butterflies in my stomach. “You have fire, I'll give you that.”

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