Page 98 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen
The tension in his arms eases, and he unclenches his hands one at a time, the sly curve of his mouth going fromdangerously annoyedtomildly amused. “Oh, alright. It’ll be fun anyway, to see Seth squirm, knowing what he missed out on.”
“Then I agree to marry you, and stand by your side, for as long as they’re safe.” I hold out my hand for him to shake, and he does so with a dry giggle.
“You’re a shrewd business woman. I like that,” Alaric whispers as he bends down to kiss me.
His hand squeezes the bottom part of my jaw between his thumb and index finger, and his tongue spears inside my mouth with no true rhythm or instinct, just the push of his will past mine. The bitter taste of salt and the tangy, earthiness of decaying moss invades my senses.
I can almost see the rest of my life pan out before my eyes, see the bottom of the trench coming from me as I tether over the edge of this catastrophe.
My hopes shatter. My ambitions gnaw.
Something in my chest snaps, then hardens.
I focus on the rationality of the agreement, not the gaping hole in my soul. I think of a strategy to distract myself from his disgraceful tongue pressing against the roof of my mouth, his slimy hands sliding beneath the metallic hem of my dress.
I’ll take this forlorn king—so clearly starved for attention and loyalty. Betray Seth, become the Storm Queen, and when Freya dies and my rightful crown reverts to me, I’ll rule both kingdoms.
Something that’s never been done.
More forbidden and legendary than my arrows are.
I’ll have more power than even my grandsire did, enough to beat Freya’s curse, I’m sure. All feelings aside, two crowns are better than one, and I’d rather be queen than dead.
Rather cut out my own heart than leave it for someone else to break.
Chapter 30
Roxanne
DEVI
To my extreme surprise, Alaric sends me back to my room without pushing his advantage further, but the unexpected mercy feels hollow. Dangerous. What kind of maniacal king kisses his new fiancée once, gropes her like a trophy, and then simply sends her to bed? Especially when she’s wearing the most outrageous dress known to man—a dress clearly designed to be peeled off by outside help.
The imprint of Alaric’s fingers throbs on my asscheeks, a phantom reminder of the humiliating tap he gave me in lieu of a proper goodnight. A crude little pat, like I was a horse he owned.
Brel doesn’t offer any assistance with the dress and closes the door like she did last night, but the click of the lock never comes. Nathaniel was right.
Percy leaps out of his hiding spot, and my heart caves in relief. “The sprite left the door open. We have to get out of here,” he says quickly.
I release my hair from the bun. “Nathaniel warned me this would happen. It’s a test. Alaric will be watching me.”
“Why?”
“He wants to see if I’ll try to escape,” I avert my gaze. “Before the wedding.”
Percy gapes, his face decomposing into a horribly twisted grimace of fear. “What wedding?”
“I know.” My eyes fly to the sky as I try to make light of it. “Another handsome, arrogant Storm Fae who only wants me for my magic. Draw a number, please?—”
Percy cuts me off. “Do not insult me by comparing them.”
“No?”
Failing to catch my gaze, Percy lands on my shoulder and pinches my neck.
I wince at the pain, but in all fairness, I deserved that.
“Be honest,diamantay,” he scolds me. “From the moment Seth Devine knelt in front of you, a piece of your heart has belonged to him. You can’t marry anyone else, and especially not Alaric.”
