Page 20 of Treasured By the Fae Royal

If I were smart, I would refuse him.

What would Mama and Aunt Heather say if I told them I wanted to marry a fae prince? They would think I’ve lost my mind, and they would be worried for me. They would probably accuse Prince Lucas of glamouring me into wanting him.

But he hasn’t glamoured me. Not once. If he wanted my easy compliance, it would be nothing for him to glamour me into forgetting about the attack on Trevos. It would be nothing for him to glamour me into falling instantly in love with him.

Now that I consider it, I think his questions about human courtship are sweet. A sign that he’s interested in something real and lasting. He can’t have what virtually all other fae have. A fated mate. So, he’s after the next best thing. Love. I’m not certain whether it’s more tragic or sweet. Perhaps a fair mix of both.

“It’s getting late,” I find myself saying. I’m reluctant to leave his arms, but I need to be alone. I need to get away from him before I do something rash like agree to become his wife.

“Meet me at midnight again tomorrow, sweetling.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, Lucas.”

“Why not?” He stiffens.

“Please don’t make me say it.” Gods, I don’t want to hurt his feelings. I don’t want to be cruel. I appreciate all he’s done for me and Mama, but I cannot forget what he is.

I cannot forgetwhohe is, just as I cannot forget what he’s done.

I’m not like Mira. She was fated to Warden Valloc, and I’m not fated to Prince Lucas. A marriage between us would start out as a convenient arrangement.

He’s not the only one who needs a spouse.

At twenty-four, if I don’t get married soon, I’ll lose my chance. People will wonder why I haven’t yet wed and surmise there’s something wrong with me. The impending trip to Sorsston might be my last chance, or I must resign myself to spinsterhood. Not that spinsterhood doesn’t hold a certain appeal, particularly when I consider my freedom, but Mama won’t be around forever, and I know she wants to see me settled and content with a family of my own.

Lucas releases his hold on me and steps back. “Perhaps you will see things differently after a good night’s rest, sweetling.”

My heart aches. I don’t understand why it’s so difficult to walk away from him. Would it be easier if I’d actually witnessed him slaughtering human soldiers in Trevos? Maybe. Maybe I need to keep reminding myself of how many of my people died, how many were tortured, and how many were taken as slaves.

“It’s getting late,” I say again. I retreat a few steps, suddenly anxious to return to the cottage.

His eyes flicker with sadness, and I swallow past the sudden burning in my throat. “Of course,” he says. “I will take you back.”

I start walking, but he reaches for me and lifts me in his arms. “Lucas, what are you doing?” Panic seizes me. What if he flies off with me and brings me to the Summer Court? His jaw has gone tight, and his visage has become rather stern. The sadness I glimpsed a few seconds ago is gone, and given how displeased he looks, I wonder if I only imagined that sadness. I tremble in his arms.

“Don’t be afraid, sweetling. I’m not about to abduct you. I’m simply going to fly you back to the cottage.” He tightens his hold on me, summons his wings in a flash of radiant gold light, and rises above the trees.

When he starts to fly toward the cottage as promised, I release the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Then I allow myself to admire the breathtaking view from above. The forest glimmers in an array of colors, and I spot a few of the larger glowing bugs zipping through the treetops.

“What are those called?” I ask Lucas over the slight breeze. He’s not flying fast, and I’m grateful the summer heat is still clinging to him.

“The blue ones are varrins, and the yellow ones are called derlotts. Varrins are harmless, while derlotts will bite anything that comes too close.” His voice is a deep, soothing rumble that brings me comfort.

The stars are radiant, and the moon peeks out from behind a passing cloud. It’s peaceful up here above the trees, just the two of us. No war. No opposite sides. No difficult choices.

Too soon, we arrive at the cottage. Being in his arms again is enough to send my thoughts into another conflicted jumble. It’s enough to make me want to stay with him longer.

He descends into the garden. Just before he sets me on my feet, he places a soft, brief kiss on my forehead. I can’t help the sigh that escapes me, just as I can’t help the flush that covers my face. When he touches me and shows me gentleness, it’s so easy to forget about the monstrous acts his army committed in Trevos.

All the more reason to get away from him. He’s one big walking temptation.

“Thanks for the ride back. I, uh, guess I better get going.” I walk backward a few steps before turning around and practically running toward the window.

“Tomorrow at midnight, sweetling,” he calls out. “I will be here just in case you change your mind. I promise I’ll be here.”

CHAPTER10

LUCAS

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