Page 35 of The Fae Lord

She does not blush. “No. I intend to serve you. It is what my family were born to do. I have no desire to change the way of things.” She shrugs and adjusts her sword.

“Would you fuck me if I asked you to?” I lean forward onto my knees. As I speak, Alana’s face fills my vision. I blink her away. Maybe I can fuck her out of my system.

Pria shrugs. “I’m sure you’d be a good fuck, my lord. I am open to the suggestion.”

I stand and stride back over to her, sling my arm around her waist, and grab her chin with my other hand. But when my lips meet hers, a taste like bile fills my mouth.

I stumble backwards and shake my head.

“My lord?” Pria narrows her eyes at me.

She does not taste like Alana. Nothing is as sweet as Alana. “Leave.” I point to the door and stalk away, back to the bed.

“I will, my lord, of course. But I came to tell you there are elves in the courtyard, and they say you are expecting them.”

I stop, back to her, and try to fight the fury that rises in my gut. It’s no use. The shadows show themselves. They begin to slink out from beneath the bed, turning to smoke, weaving around my legs and up towards my waist. My eyes darken. When I turn around, Pria is shaking.

Now, she is afraid.

Good. If she was lying and intended to stab me in my sleep, maybe this will make her think twice.

“Take me to the elves,” I command in a timbre three octaves lower than usual. “Now.”

In the courtyard, Garratt is sitting on top of a bale of hay, kicking his feet as if he is on a longed-for vacation. He looks up, pipe between his teeth, and grins. “Ah, Lord Eldrion.” When he jumps down, he sweeps into an exaggerated bow.

He spots the shadows at my feet and swallows hard.

All around the courtyard, silence descends. The Sunborne who are part of my inner court and were out here enjoying the fine weather are staring. A couple cling on to each other, looping arms and looking terrified.

The remaining Shadowkind in my employ slink back. Afraid. Quaking in their boots.

Garratt bites his lower lip. He’s afraid, but he’s also cocky.

“I have an update for you, my lord. Perhaps we should go inside?” he asks, tilting his head. Behind him, two more elves wait for my response.

I turn and motion for him to follow me.

In the grand hall, I slam the doors closed, shouting for Pria to make sure they are guarded.

From the ceiling, the remnants of Finn’s last performance hang like ghosts. Rustling in the breeze that comes through the broken window. Damn that jester. Damn him. If he knew how important Alana was, would he have taken her from me? Would he have hidden her away if he knew she was the key to our salvation?

Garratt stops and puts his hands in his pockets. “I’ve been asking around,” he says. “No one has seen your fae.”

“That is what you came here for?” I stride towards him, ready to end him right here, this second. And his friends, too.

He holds up his hands, palms out, in defence. “No, I came to ask about your visions.”

My body stiffens, dread coiling in my veins. “Visions?”

Garratt raises his eyebrows. “Servants talk. They say you are losing your grip on reality. Your mother had visions, did she not? And your brother before he died?”

“No one knew about them. How do you know?” I thrust my hand around his neck and squeeze. Every fibre in my body wants to squeeze the life from his useless little throat.

He coughs. One of the other elves speaks up. “We know most things,” she says. “Elves have always paid attention to the things fae are too busy to notice.”

I blink hard, trying to stay present, trying not to think of Alana.

I loosen my grip.

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