Page 45 of Bride of the Fae Prince

I can’t move. Can’t respond. Dread flows liquid through my veins.

His grip tightens on my hands, his thumb stroking my chin. “Do I make myself clear, Stella?”

I manage a nod.

He smiles against my ear. “Good girl.”

He lets go of me, and I sag against the wall. Pressing a hand to my heaving chest, I don’t look at him. I won’t. He made me trust him. He made me like him. I wasgladto be his wife.

All of that is gone now.

I am his pawn, hislittle wife. He did not choose me because he liked me. He did not seek me out or hold me because he was drawn to me. No, this was his plan from the beginning.

He married me to spite his father.

He offers me his hand. The feral urge to bite it almost overcomes me. But I heed Ash’s warning, and take it without protest. Beneath the compliance, fear and anger simmer like molten lava in my gut.

Ash draws me out of the corner, back into the hallway, and with a flick of his wrist, the sounds of clicking footsteps, rushing water, birdsong, and distant chatter flood my senses. He takesmy hand and settles it on his arm with a detached smirk playing across his features.

He doesn’t throw me back over his shoulder.

A win is a win, I guess?

The sound of feasting and revelry, of raucous laughter and ribald shouting, reaches my ears before anything else. The smell hits me next, of steaming food that curls my stomach and the heady thread of alcohol. Am I about to experience the debaucheries the fae are known for?

I don’t want to. I don’t want to see it, to become lost in it.

But Ash doesn’t slow his pace, and nothing will soften the set of his jaw.

I can handle this.I’ve handled everything else so far.

Later, I’ll be watching for my opportunity. My opportunity to get back at my husband, to punish him somehow. To make him regret his deception.

It occurs to me in a sudden shade of brilliant crimson that there is no possible way Ash can fulfill the promises he made to my father about halting the conquest of the human lands. He is at odds with the High King, who holds the true power over the invasion.

Don’t think about that,I tell myself swiftly when my lungs cave in on themselves.You didn’t marry a fae for nothing. You didn’t. Even if it seems like you did.

We come to a wide set of double doors flanked by armed, winged fae. Beyond it, the shouting and laughter increases. I wet my lips and try to keep my hands from shaking.

The doors open, and an entire scene unfurls before me as the crowd shouts, “Prince Trenian!”

It’s a large stretch of green lawn, packed to the brim with all manner of strange people. Creatures great and small, some with wings and others with fins, bodies of all vibrant colors, both humble and majestic in one place. The edge of the lawndissolves into a lush garden, with tall trees like weeping willows, creatures hanging from their languid boughs and others dancing in circles around their trunks. Living vines curl like snakes around the arms of some fae, taking empty goblets and flinging them against a stone walkway until they shatter into thousands of diamond-sharp pieces.

Drink flows like a river, and there is an alarming amount of indecency—both in dress and action. I try to avert my eyes, but wherever I avert my gaze to, there’s more.

I don’t want to go. I want to hide, to run away. Ash brings me forward, his pace never flagging as he grins and enters the throng. I inch closer to him. He waves at a fae he passes. “How is it?”

The fae—a male, with skin the color of rich blue ink and curved horns protruding from his brow—sits cross-legged on top of a table. “The best since the last Lulythinar!” he cries, lifting his goblet and then pouring it into his mouth. It spills over his lips, dribbling down his chin.

I try not to gape. The fae has liquid money dribbling down his chin, and he doesn’t care.

“I picked it out with you in mind.” Ash winks, and everyone cheers. As he continues into the throng, he calls out to more fae, and they respond with enthusiasm.

They love him,my mind registers dully. Of course they do—he just surprised everyone with this extravagant celebration.

Not everyone is happy, however. As we move deeper into the masses, I catch more glimpses of frowns, glowers. A winged guard here and there glaring. A shiver races down my spine.

Before I know it, we’re at the center. Ash’s grin shifts, a tell I’ve come to recognize. I have just enough time to brace myself before he scoops one arm around my legs and lifts me up to his shoulder. I squeak and reach for something to anchor me—and find myself grabbing hold of his ears.

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