Page 9 of A Bargain with the Fae King

I step to the side, blocking his view. I’ve told this man—no, this fae—so many things, but that same little voice that screeches at the wrongness of this all doesn’t like his attention on her.

He shakes his head as if clearing it. Such a human gesture. “I’m glad you came.”

A flush breaks out across my cheeks. “I had to know if you were real.”

“You really weren’t sure?”

“Fae”—I look him up and down—“aren’t supposed to exist.”

“We do.” He steps closer, so close I have to tip my head back to see his face.

A lock of rich, brown hair with shimmers of gold slips over his shoulders, and I have to fight the urge to push it back. Keeping my eyes off the pointed ears poking through it is even harder. I’m burning up, and it’s not the weather’s fault. It’s hard to focus with him so close. “I noticed.”

His grin says more than any words he’s spoken. But it vanishes as quickly as it came. “You talked about selling your…cabin.” He stumbles over the word. “Leaving?”

“You heard that?” My brows draw together. “I didn’t see you. I looked.”

“I waited on the other side of the door until she fell asleep.” He nods to May.

Oh no. How long had he been there? Did he see that time I adjusted my bra? Or when I tripped coming up the hill? And wait…

“Door?” My brows arc with the word.

“The door to Faery,” he says, as if that’s some normal thing I should know about. “You’re leaving?”

Disappoint looms in his eyes with something else I can’t quite understand. It’s too much, too invasive.

I look away. “Yes. Dad wants to sell.” A sudden thought snaps my attention back to him. “You can still visit, right? In my dreams?”

Losing the cabin is one thing. But losing him too? I’m not sure I can handle it. Not now that I know he’s real. I need his visits, the comfort he offers. It’s been the brightest part of the last few months.

“It’s hard when you’re so far. It takes so much…” Now it’s his turn to glance away. “Stay. Come to Faery with me.”

“I—”

“At least let me show you?” Riven stretches out his gloved hand.

It’s the most natural thing in the world to take it. His hand dwarfs mine. Supple leather caresses my skin and sends a rush of tingles racing through me. Though his grip is light, the strength there is obvious. He could crush me if he wanted.

A heartbeat later, the world is different.

I gape as the trees surrounding us become stones. A forest looms beyond. Its trees stretch far above the monoliths and bear splashes of red and gold like ours in autumn. Even the air is different—cleaner, crisper. I inhale a breath, savoring the way it fills my lungs and clears my head.

“How? Where?” I twist my head this way and that.

“This is Faery. You wanted to see it, so the door let you through.”

So simple. “The circle is the door?”

He nods.

Some of the trees around us are familiar, others, decidedly not so. I flex my fingers and grip Riven’s hand tighter. One violet-tinted tree has a bulbous trunk like a bottle of pomegranate juice. Some are so thin they sway like reeds in the breeze—maybe they’re not even trees at all. Another has limbs that dig into the ground like a clawed hand ready to rip out the soil. Flat ground prevails instead of the hilly, mountainous terrain back home.

“It’s beautiful.” And horrifying. Even so, I can’t stop staring.

“It’s dying.”

I flinch. He can’t be serious. “What?”

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