Page 47 of Court of the Fae Princes

I feel my nipples harden and cross my hands over my chest, regretting my question. “You know, this whole hot, cocky fae prince does nothing for me.”

“Then what does do something for you?” He’s serious.

My cheeks feel hot. “None of your business.”

“You know,” he draws out the words, “I’m going to figure out what turns you on, and I’m going to do it. Over and over until you want something else, and then I’m going to give that to you too. You might have four husbands, but you’ll want for nothing from me.”

The room is so hot that I have to stop from fanning myself. “And what if I want more than all this… sexual crap?”

He smirks. “Then tell me what you want, and I’ll make sure you have it.”

“Just like that?” I ask, incredulously.

“Just like that,” he repeats with utter confidence.

I hate that he makes all of this sound so easy. Like being married to four spoiled princes is going to be simple. Just me spreading my legs when they want, and spending the rest of my time being adored by them.

Come on. That’s not life. Life is thinking something good will happen and having it dashed away. Life is trusting someone and watching them shatter your trust. I’d walked this road a thousand times as a young, desperate girl trying to provide for my family.

If I hadn’t become a maid… I shiver. There were few uses for a young girl, and the world made that very clear to me.

Hell, even going to town trading taught me about the world. When people knew my grandmother was no longer making money, they offered me the bare minimum, knowing I had no other options. You’d think people my grandmother had been kind to, had paid, and had known would be kinder.

But, fuck, the world is harsh. These princes will be just as harsh, and they can’t convince me otherwise.

“I won’t be your queen or their queen. I’m not going through with it.”

“What’s the one thing you want for yourself?” He answers me with a question of his own, his gaze intense.

“I’ve never had time to think about it, but I know it’s not four husbands.” There. That should shut him up.

“Why haven’t you had time to think about it?” he asks, skipping completely over my rejection.

I sigh, annoyed again that he can’t understand what it’s like to be poor or human. “I’ve been too worried about ensuring my family’s survival. I don’t have time to dream. Dreaming is a privilege bestowed on very few humans. We serve and we survive.”

“So you really have nothing you can think of that you want?” he asks, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Nope.” I shake my head. “What about you?”

He surprises me by answering. “I want to rule the Autumn Court.”

“Oh, Prince Forrest, such an unattainable goal. However will you accomplish that? It’s not like it’ll just be handed to you—oh wait, it will be.” I laugh at the irony that he can’t understand my lack of a goal, but his goal isn’t even a goal. It’s an inevitability.

“You’re about to be handed all four courts,” he replies. “Why are you so against this? It’s going to make your life monumentally better. And your family? They’re going to be treated well. Why don’t you want that?” Those eyes of his try to penetrate my thoughts.

I chew my bottom lip, trying to keep calm. Telling the truth will do no good. But by all logic he’s right. If I were their mate, this wouldn’t even be a question. I would feel a deep connection with them that I couldn’t ignore, and marriage would be inevitable.

So, how do I explain my hesitation without giving myself away?

Not knowing what to say, I don’t say anything. Instead, I meet his gaze and find myself unable to look away. I’ve never been in love, but some strange part of me thinks I could be in love with Forrest in another life. If he wasn’t so cocky. So arrogant. So sheltered from the real world.

And yet… it makes him interesting.

One of his hands hooks around my waist and pulls me closer so that I’m standing between his legs. The other hand wraps around the back of my neck and brings my face close to his, so close I can feel his breath on my lips. It’s warm and pleasant.

Like the man himself.

He pulls me even closer, and I can’t take my eyes off his. They’re intense. Beautiful and unexpected in a man who looks like the picture of danger itself. Our bodies touch, and heat flares between us. He gently presses his lips to mine as if testing me, giving me a chance to pull away, but, for reasons I don’t understand, I don’t.

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