Page 42 of The Forbidden Fae King

I have always stood on my own two feet.

Except for right now, because two arms thick with muscle carry me through the darkness that encloses on all sides.

Chapter 12

Keira

Adeep, all-consuming sleep engulfs me. There are no dreams, only endless stretches of nothingness.

When I wake, thick beams of sunlight pierce through the window, and I don’t know if it is dawn, midday or dusk. The light is colored by leadlight windows. Their patterns of tulips and daffodils are cast upon the dusty wooden floors.

I am alone in this room, tucked neatly into a bed piled with blankets and furs and pillows, as though I might shatter at the slightest bump.

I glance around wildly, with no recollection of how I arrived here.

Then the memories rush in hard and fast and I hyperventilate.

I snatch up my satchel in a panic and hold it to my chest as though it were armor against any high fae who might burst in and force their will on me. But they could have done that already if they wanted to.

The groaning of wood and voices outside my hut catch my attention. There is no door in this room, but a curtain of vines hangs over the entrance to give me privacy. But there are also no bars to lock me in.

I move to the window and peer through. This room is perched dizzyingly high, tucked between the trunk of the tree and multiple hugebranches. The doorway leads to a balcony and a meandering staircase, which joins with another hut below, and then into the tree itself.

No wonder there are no guards or prison cells locking me in. I’d have to saunter past the entire war band before I could escape, and that is assuming I can penetrate their ward around the camp.

A knock on the doorframe has me turning sharply to it. “I’m coming in.” A deep rumble informs me, followed by a pause, as though he expects a response.

I freeze at the rustling of foliage, which permits a tall figure. My heart stops completely at the sight of the fae standing in the doorway. He is a silhouette, the sun behind him blinding me to any details, but the form is tall, with broad shoulders and muscular arms. Those peaked ears are all too clear, reminding me I am not safe.

He steps into the room and I register those beautiful, brutal features. Aldrin.

I want to back away. To run. There is nowhere to go. He blocks the only exit. The muscles of his shoulders ripple. He could so overpower me easily and take the one thing fae men really want from human women.

Aldrin takes another step toward me and I press myself into the wall, reaching for my magic. His gaze looks me up and down, drifting across the bare skin of my neckline and arms beneath my rolled-up sleeves.

I will not let him abuse my body without a fight, even if he could take both my wrists in one of those large hands and pin me easily.

I watch his every movement with huge eyes.

Aldrin sighs and leans against the wall casually. “Don’t look at me like that. I have come to check on your wounds, not devour you. Humans don’t believethatof fae now, do they?”

I move to the other side of the room as he tries to approach again. “Klara already looked at them.”

“Klara was depleted yesterday, and couldn’t completely heal you. I had my own wounds and couldn’t do any healing.” He stretches out a hand toward me. “I can still see deep cuts half healed.”

I let him take my hand in his. It is warm, with skin callused from regular sword use. He trails fingers across my palm and up the tender flesh of my wrist to my elbow, examining each gash.

Shivers run through my skin, starting from his touch and spreading down my spine.

I peer at his face as he concentrates, that almost constant frown gone, softening his dark features. I want to reach a hand and trace the sharp angles of his face. To touch those pointed ears. I don’t know where the urge comes from.

His fingers slide back down my exposed skin and the desire for him to touch more of me hits my blood.

I snatch my arm back. “I don’t need any more healing.” The lie rolls off my tongue while my heart thunders.

Aldrin straightens to his full height, over a head taller than me. “Your people do us a disservice. We do not deserve our reputation since the Dividing War. It suited your ancestors to manipulate your histories and to cast us as monsters, to justify their actions which made your lands lose its magic. I would have liked to have known your story.”

He considers me with deep sadness, turns and walks away, toward the vine curtain of the door.

---