Page 17 of Beneath the Cursed Veil

Uncle . . .Unless he had another uncle I didn’t know about, King Vareck was standing in the room with us.Oh gods, please leave.

I froze, fearing what would happen if I turned around.

“What are you doing here?” Damon demanded, but the king didn’t respond, stepping inside and slamming the door behind him. I kept my back to him, thinking of all the possible outcomes. None of them were good.

I wondered what prison was like in Faerie. What was the punishment for attempted kidnapping of royalty? Did they chop off heads here, or just wait until you turned into a popsicle in the dungeon while they starved you?

“Get out,” the king growled, and my entire body went stiff.

I gasped, unable to hide my reaction.

His voice. I’d heard it before . . . My heart began to pound, and I could feel the adrenaline shooting through my veins. Maybe I wouldn’t lose my head. I’d die ofa heart attack first.

“This is my room, and she’s my companion for the evening,” Damon argued, “you get out!”

“This isn’t your room. You’d never bring a woman to your actual room. This is your fuckboy playroom, and it’s in my castle.”

What were the odds that ‘get out’ was aimed at me?

I cleared my throat softly, thinking I could just keep my head down and excuse myself. “Pardon me, Your Majesty. I’ll leave you and the prince to . . . um, do whatever it is you need to do.” I turned slowly, staring at the floor, hoping that he’d let me pass by.

“He’s going. You’re staying here,” he said firmly. My stomach tied itself in knots. Idefinitelyknew that voice. My lips parted, and a lump formed in my throat as I struggled to breathe. Struggled to think.

I may not have recognized his face, but that was because in my dreams, his face—his features—were never clear. Each night I dreamed of him, yet all I could remember when I woke was the heat and desire in his every touch. The way his warmth enveloped me, keeping me safe. More than anything, I vividly remembered the sound of his voice.

I would know it anywhere.

I just never thought he was real.

And I never in a million years thought he was the king of Faerie.

“Oh my god, it’s you,” I whispered so quietly, I wasn’t entirely sure I’d spoken it aloud. Not until he responded.

“You know me, don’t you?” he asked, a hint of hope laced in each word. He stepped forward, and my body finally had the good sense to unglue my feet from the floor. I took a step back, holding out a hand for him to stop.

I shook my head, swallowing thickly. The denial was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t seem to voice it.

Very convincing.

“You do. I can see it in your eyes.” His voice had a raw edge to it, and though it was a little less harsh than when he’d been addressing Damon, it still sent a shiver down my spine. I could feel the weight of his gaze. Persuasion—one of those little parlor tricks all high fae were known for. The same trick I’d used to get rid of Tinkerbell was now being turned against me. “Answer my question.”

“Um, of course I know you. You’re the king.” The words were strained. Not a lie, and yet not the truth. His presence was suffocating. I stepped back, dodging around the side of an armchair, trying to put distance between us.

“That’s not what I meant.”

I bit my bottom lip, inhaling deeply. Gods, his voice did things to me it shouldn’t. Especially not now.

“Well, this is awkward,” Damon said with a heavy sigh, taking a step toward the door. “I think I’ll just…” He pointed toward the exit with his thumb. “Maybe leave now.”

“Stay,” I commanded, and Damon numbly sat on the bed.

Vareck groaned in frustration, stepping around Damon. “I want to talk to you.”

“Sure,” I said, circling around another chair. “We can talk. From a distance.”

He held up his hands, but didn’t make any move to step away. “Why did you come here?”

“For the ball.” I moved away, stepping closer to the bed and positioning myself near the door. “Stay back.”

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