Page 68 of How to Keep a Fae

My heart is slamming around in my chest. What the fuck were they doing with her? “Aurelius is my father,” I say.

I still don’t know my father well, nor can I guess his motivations. He told me to speak to Jayga, and while he does not carry the authority to sanction us, it was a definite endorsement.

Perhaps we still acted recklessly and with haste…

“August,” Jayga says softly, his eyes hard.

If he can feel my turmoil, then so can Adaline. I smooth out the mental ball of anxiety.

She twists back to look at me, her eyes wide. “I don’t remember all of it. Just snippets. I-I think the king did something to keep me calm.”

“The king has many skills, including glamor. Most likely, it was exactly that, done to keep you calm. The chosen are formidable. I’ve never met one in person, but I’ve heard it can be intense... Tell us what you remember, even if it is small.”

“Aurelius asked the chosen if he would sanction it. I-I think he was talking about us, about us bonding. And I don’t know why, but that was the impression I got… Then the chosen refused him.”

“Bastard,” Jayga growls.

Her lips quiver. Jayga purrs. I kiss her temple, trying to bank my own roiling rage and project a confidence I do not feel. My father did that much for me—I appreciate what he tried. But now, and unwittingly, we have been placed in the crosshairs of a chosen one who has explicitly dictated he would not sanction us.

“Do you think he was talking about mating?” she asks.

“It could mean many things,” I hedge. If it does, I know of none.

We will likely be hauled before Cecil the moment we leave her quarters.

Fuck him—I don’t care if he is chosen. Nothing and no one will break what has been made.

“Has this got anything to do with the couch,” Jayga says slowly, his voice dipping to a growl.

“A present from the king.”

I raise my brows.

Jayga bristles with aggression.

“He asked me what color I liked, and when I said all ofthem… Well, this is what I got.” She wipes a tear from her cheek, sounding more sulky than upset.

It brings an unwitting smile to my lips—her heat may be over, but I sense she is still needy, and it’s getting to her.

“I think the bastard is wooing our queen,” Jayga mutters, his aggression ramping up, which is making our mate all squirmy… and aroused.

I file her response away for later. She is not bred yet. The possessive side of me is deeply unhappy about this and is already calculating how long we might have to wait before we can force her heat again.

“Only one way to find out what is in store,” I say firmly, keeping my response locked down although I’m likewise murderous toward anyone who thinks of poaching our queen, be him a king or otherwise.

“Aye,” Jayga says. “Also, I’m fucking starving. Best we get up before I start snacking on our fae mate again.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Jayga

If I had any doubts about what might happen next, they are ceremoniously quashed as we step out of her quarters and find two guards standing there. Not the regular ones who do Cecil’s bidding, but those wearing the king’s uniform.

The king.

Bastard.

Sending our woman gifts. I will fuck him up.

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