Page 11 of Faking with the Fae King

“Does all of this mean that your marriage idea went well?” Daigan asks.

“It did.” I tip my head. “I have betrothed the local human leader and gotten her agreement to let us make a home on Earth.”

“You’re betrothed!” Daigan scowls. “How could you do such a thing before she wins the bride trials?”

“Come now.” Varyn waves a dismissive hand. “You know a betrothal isn’t binding for a royal. If need be, Severin can dissolve it.”

“No.” The word shoots from me before I can stop it. “There will be no dissolution.”

Daigan frowns. “But showing up to the trials with a fiancée will upset the other women.”

“I’m not the first royal to bring a favorite to the trials. In fact, a few of my ancestors loaded their competitions with nothing but their lovers,” I say. “I had to betroth the human to anchor the palace on Earth. I had no choice.” One touch of that living world, and I refused to live without it. Ineedthe magic of my new garden and the vibrancy of the Earth trees.

And I need a pretty pair of brown eyes that look at mewith admiration.

“If anyone says anything, we’ll cite precedence.” Varyn gives a casual shrug. “It won’t be a problem.”

“Not a problem?” The warlord’s brow pinches in a deep scowl. “You’ve painted a target on her back. All of the other contestants will know you’ll choose her if she wins even a single trial, so they’ll try to make sure she doesn’t.”

“All of the other contestants will treat her well for fear of my wrath,” I growl.

“Not if they know you don’t actually care about her, they won’t.”

“Hannah and I have already agreed to act as if it’s a love match. The rest of Faerie will never know our marriage is fake. Everything will work out exactly as I want.”

“Ifshe wins the bride trials.” Daigon’s wings stir restlessly on his back.

“Hannah has powerful magic. I can feel it.” And if things start going poorly, I’ll find a way to ensure she wins. “Fair” and “good sportsmanship” have no place in a shadow fae’s heart if they stand in the way of what I want.

There will be no problems with my plan.

CHAPTER FIVE

Hannah

Dammit! I’m so screwed. There’s a huge problem with this plan. Massive! Me—I’m the problem. How the hell am I supposed to win a magical competition if I don’t even know what kind of magic I have, let alone how to use it?

My phone’s working again, so I shoot a text to my witch bestie Naomi.Are you still on Earth?

There’s no reply, but I didn’t really expect one, since it’s already past six in the evening. Naomi’s got the farthest commute of anyone anywhere. She works in her Ferndale Falls bookshop by day and goes home to her gorgeous orc husband in Faerie each night. Her witchy teleportation powers make it faster than any drive, but it sure puts her phone out of range.

Text me as soon as you get to town in the morning. I need help with magic and fae stuff, I type.I’m using the bookstorethis evening for a meeting. Hope it’s okay!I wince. Naomi might have given me a key, but this is the first time I’ve used the shop in this way. Still, it’s also the place that feels right, since it’s where I learned about magic and Faerie.

That meeting I mentioned? It’s more important than ever, I text to Skye. As town librarian, she’s got everyone’s contact info.Get all the women who could see magic to meet at I Touch My Shelf tonight at 8.

Already on it.

Tell them it’s to talk about magic, I reply.But if they need to tell other people something, we can say we’re starting a book club.

Yes!!!A series of exuberant emojis follow.Autumn says she’s bringing drinks.

Perfect! See you then!A grin stretches my cheeks as I slide my phone into my back pocket. If there’s one thing I can always count on, it’s my friends.

A chipmunk skitters across the forest path several feet in front of me, and a tiny voice says, “Bigs! Bigs are coming!”

“Who said that?” I ask, but get no response.

Walking on, I kick up a clump of dried pine needles, making them shower over a fern in a cloud of orange confetti. I immediately feel bad and lean over to brush it off, setting the fiddleheads swaying.

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