Page 40 of A Bargain with the Fae King

“Leave her out of this.” Riven tugs at my waist, urging me behind him.

But I root my feet to the ground, holding firm. I won’t be sidelined. Not again.

Sigurd waltzes in our direction, closing the distance between us as swords slide free and fae close ranks around us. Eyes roll in his perfect face. “Call off your guard. We don’t have time for this.”

No one moves.

Sigurd shifts his attention to me again. “She’s important to you. Your sister? Do you want my help or not?”

This fae, this stranger, would help May? “Yes.”

“Lia—” Riven begins.

But I cut him off with a sharp look. “We have to get her back. You promised.”

He winces atthatword.

“If he can help…” I gesture to the newcomer. With what just happened, we need all the help we can get.

“He doesn’t trust me. None of them do.” Sigurd’s words capture my attention again. “But even you”—he looks to Riven—“know how I feel about the Unseelie taking humans.” Sigurd’s countenance flattens out. Something dark, maybe a memory, flashes across his features.

“What do you propose?” Riven’s words hold less venom than before.

“I’ll bring some of my guards to help search for the little girl.”

I practically bounce for joy.

“And I’ll help restore your wards. I mean, they are rather pitiful if my eagle can stand next to your human without notice. And for the Unseelie to just wander so deep into your territory.” Hetsksagain. “It’s an embarrassment, really.” He waves his hand through the air as if his words are light, airy, frivolous. The absolute opposite of the slap in the face he clearly intends.

Riven’s whole body goes rigid at my side. I rub my hand along his arm. No more fighting. Not now.

“But I digress,” Sigurd says. “Where should we meet?”

“The border.” Riven swallows. Some of the tension flees his form. “We’ll focus on the wards first. Then Arbrean.”

“Ah, close to our mutual borders and the Shadowlands. I should have expected as much.” Sigurd looks off into the distance as if seeing something that I can’t. “Until then.”

Chapter 12

Sigurddisappears,vanishesascompletely as the feline fae who took May. I can’t help but search for him, even though I know he’s gone. Hands slip from pommels. Shoulders roll. Sighs fill the air as the members of Riven’s guard relax.

“Will he come back? Tonight, I mean,” I ask.

“No.” Riven releases me and scrubs a hand down his once-more-weary face. “My wards must really be weakening for him to shift all the way here.”

“Who is he?”

“King of Air,” Ambrose answers.

My brows rise at the title.

“He controls the territory next to mine. The Shadowlands, the home of the Unseelie, border us both.”

“He just disappeared. Like the cat woman who stole my sister.” I frown at the unintended reference.

“I should have noticed, and yet…” Riven shakes his head.

“Wards?” I ask. They keep talking about them like I should know, but I don’t. Honestly, all these fae terms are starting to chafe.

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