Page 96 of Fae Crown

Whatever King Spiro had meant for the Mirror World certainly couldn’t have been this, and now we were all trapped in it—with her.

Now that she’d done … whatever she had done to become whatever aberration she was, there was nowhere in this entire damned world I could stash my sister that would be far enough to ensure her true safety. Not even in the Sorumbra with its own inherent dangers.

“Get to entertaining me,” the queen commanded, “or else.”

I whipped my head in her direction, willing my tattoos to at least retreat from my face so I could see the fae I hated more than should have been possible. To my surprise, they did some.

I made out the cruel, smug, sneering tilt of her lips when I snapped, “Or elsewhat?”

At my tone, Braque—from the portly, squat, plump outline—tskedand approached the stage, stopping halfway between it and the throne. “Do not speak to Her Majesty that way, you insolent, ungrateful?—”

I continued as if he weren’t speaking. “You’ll deny my sister the treatments she needs to survive? To live?”

“Yes, Rush,” the queen said without hesitation. “That’s exactly what I’ll do. She’ll grow sicker, weaker, and before long, she’ll die. Will you fail yet another sister? Will you let them both die?”

“No,” I answered violently. “Never. I won’t let you hurt her.”

“I won’t be the one hurting her. That will be you … and your bad choices.”

My vision was still a bit blurry, but I didn’t miss when she casually crossed a leg over the other and draped her arms atop the sides of her throne as if we were enjoying a pleasant, idle conversation.

With a flash of gold as a lumoon reflected off her crown, she glanced at one of the armrests and ran a finger across what must be my blood. She sucked it into her mouth and moaned much as she did while she was ethercresting. How I fucking wished I didn’t know what she sounded like in the throes of pleasure…

A tremulous whimper rose from the rows of females as I struggled to keep at bay an especially disturbing memory of myself fucking the naked queen while I clutched Elowyn’s hand with open desperation, clenching my eyes shut and envisioning Elowyn’s face over the queen’s.

“Mmmm,” the queen hummed. “Delicious. Everything about you is delicious, Rush. So why don’t you and your sweet sister put on a good show for me now? She’s all dressed for it.”

Larissa’s crying ceased, but her shaking intensified so greatly that her teeth rattled. Careful of her abused breasts, I ran a soothing hand along her slim back.

“She won’t be doing any entertaining,” I told the queen, who rubbed a damp finger along the armrest, trying to pick up more of my blood.

She sucked whatever was left of it into her mouth with a loudsmack. “Oh? So then you’ll provide a sufficient quality of entertainment to make up for my inconvenience?”

I should have saidyes. Even then I realized it.

There was no defeating the queen. There was only placating and delaying her.

The queen was immortal.Inevitable. There was no escaping whatever fate she doled out.

Regardless, my mouth formed the denial all on its own.

My “No” rang out into the great salon firmly enough to fill the grand space.

She stilled. Dragged the finger over her bottom teeth before bringing it to her lap. “No?” she repeated.

I didn’t answer, unsure what I was doing. Did I dare risk my sister to preserve my already broken dignity? Had I lost my mind? Forgotten the myriad sacrifices that had long urged me ever onward in this doomed fight?

“Larissa will survive,” I heard myself saying before fully leaning into the courage to risk her to save myself. “I’ll find the way.”

The queen scoffed. “There’s no one in the entire Mirror World with Braque’s skills.”

The fat alchemist’s blurry silhouette preened like a trufy bird.

“Iwillsave my sister.” I’d also save myself. And Elowyn. Somehow…

With a displeased scowl, the queen stared and stared and stared at me.

While everyone else in the room held their collective breath, I glared back, thinking frantically of what to do.

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