Page 101 of A Bargain with the Fae King

His eyes twinkle. His grin is wide and feral. A second later, he lifts me in the air.

“Lia! You’ve done it!” Riven yells as he spins me in a circle.

I squeal in surprise, gripping the silent key in my hand. Dizziness overwhelms me when he finally sets me on my feet, and I grab onto him to steady myself. Laughter and joy envelopes us on all sides. It’s contagious. My chest shakes in a burst of hysterical happiness.

Riven beams with unabashed pride. Even his posture is more carefree, as if a crushing weight has been lifted from his shoulders. This isn’t the fae king, this is Riven. My Riven. Happy. Free. Joy practically radiates from him, from all of them.

It’s that blissful moment, that pinnacle of victory, when a tendril of shadowy apprehension manages to snake its way around my throat. Darkness creeps into the edge of my vision, turning my grin fragile as a teacup in an instant.

If I trade the stone for May, it can’t help them. Not anymore.

I’d be just like the witch, using the stone for my own purposes and leaving them to fade and suffer. My chest constricts, painful and awful.

But I can’t leave my sister to the Unseelie. No matter what, I have to save her.

Riven throws back his head, laughing at something a guard said. My heart lurches, a sharp stab of reality bringing with it the pain of awareness. Each laugh, each smile, spills a little more of my joy until everything aches. With pain comes awareness, like a fog lifting from my mind. This fae, this king, has become someone dear. His smile is one I cherish, one I want to preserve forever, despite our differences and difficulties.

Give away his hope? Hurt him? How could I?

I can’t. Because somewhere along the way, I’ve fallen in love with him.

Over a day has passed, and the stone’s music has not returned.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t be worried?” I ask.

“All magic has its limits. Likely it just needs to recharge,” Riven says again, for maybe the third time. He’s not worried, not in the slightest.

But I am.

A frown tugs on my lips as I stare at the stone within the crystal box where we placed it for safekeeping. Only Riven can open it, or me since I wear his mark, giving me a similar magical signature despite my lack of any actual magic. A near-identical twin of the stone sits outside the box on a small, silken pillow.

Riven instructed his best artisans to craft the duplicate, confident we can pass that one off to the Unseelie and keep the real one for ourselves.

Could such a simple trick really work?

My stomach knots. I don’t like it, especially not since my sister’s life depends on it.

“Besides.” Riven paces the room, that confident, joyful glow still clinging to him like a second skin. He waves a hand as if this is something trivial and not the life-or-death situation it is. “We’ll offer food and supplies first. Then the spell Solona found. If that doesn’t work—only if—we offer the stone.”

He means to be reassuring, and maybe it works for him, but not for me.

“The duplicate?”

“Yes.” One careful, confident nod.

“And if they realize it’s not the real one?” I raise my brows for emphasis.

“They won’t.” He halts his pacing a breath away. “How would they?”

I crane my neck up over my shoulder, taking in the planes of his strong jaw. “You said yourself the real one feels odd. Would they not expect that?”

Riven wraps his arms around me from behind, his chin coming to rest on the top of my head. The move forces my attention back to the object in question. “I made you a bargain, didn’t I? We’ll save May, even if it costs us the stone.”

I lean back into his chest, savoring the feel of his body against mine, his honeysuckle scent in my nose. Strong. Confident. As sure as any king could be.

“Try not to worry so much.” His fingers graze my cheek, stirring up a little shiver. “We still have several hours until we’re to meet the Unseelie.”

Hours that drag like years. I sigh.Soon, May. I promise. You’ll be home soon.

---