Page 77 of Chosen By the Fae King

And the bite? I found it incredibly erotic. But I supposed my mind was a safe place to experience such things.

The dream lingered, fueling a hunger I feared only Nox could satisfy. I didn't know how I would face him come morning, knowing I had given such a private part of myself to him, even if only in my dreams.

I tossed and turned that night, unable to sleep. When the first light of dawn crept into my room, I gave up the pretense and rose to prepare for the day.

My hands shook slightly as I braided my hair, anticipation and nerves warring within me. I both dreaded and thirsted for the moment I would see him, unsure of how I might react in his presence.

Several contestants were already eating when I arrived in the common room. Lorne had wisely made everyone remain in their quarters for private dinners, so I'd been able to avoid conversation.

I kept my gaze averted as I joined Sofiya who sat alone at our usual table. Silently, I filled my plate, not yet daring to look at anyone.

She gave me an inquisitive look. “Did you not sleep well?”

I scowled, cheeks burning anew. Trust Sofiya to notice something was off.

“Well enough,” I said, keeping my tone brusque. I stabbed at the food on my plate, appetite deserting me.

Sofiya's smile turned teasing. “I see you've made some choices then.”

“Sofe,” I groaned.

Sofiya laughed, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Forgive me. I couldn't resist.”

Her expression turned thoughtful. “Don't get in your own way, Aeryn.”

I glared and she laughed again. “Wow,” she clucked. “You're never this prickly.”

I sighed. “I know. I'm sorry. I'm tired and cranky and–”

“Worried about the near future. You don't have to explain. I'm sorry I teased you. Usually, my jokes make you laugh. I'll be more careful.”

“Thank you.”

“If you promise me one thing.”

“Let me guess. To stay out of my own way?”

Sofiya grinned slyly and went back to her meal.

Was I in my own way? Essentially, I'd saved Nox from myself yesterday. I worried it was a sign I was going to break my own heart before the king ever had the opportunity.

Sixteen

Nox

“Make preparations to begin the trials tomorrow,” I ordered, halting my dinner companion's actions.

Heavy and unanticipated, the directive thickened the air, as if a storm cloud had settled over the table. Directly across from me, Lorne carefully examined my face. His eyes, usually filled with unwavering trust, now harbored a hint of skepticism and concern.

“You want to give up the last day of training?” he questioned, his voice laced with disbelief.

“If they're not ready, one day isn't going to make a difference,” I replied. My words carried a tone of indifference that belied the turmoil within.

As I picked up my silverware, the utensils felt like foreign instruments and I was their clumsy director.

Lorne, sensing the gravity of my decision, put down his knife and fork. “This week hasn't been about getting them in shape, Nox,” he asserted, his words cutting through the air like a chilling wind.

“I'm aware.”

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