Page 53 of King of Death

“Alright?” He searched my eyes when I jumped and looked over at him.

There was a splash of bright sunlight over the right side of his face, making his eyes look even darker and his skin appear almost unnaturally pale. Seeing him here, in a seelie forest, surrounded by the oversaturated richness of the trees and grass and luminous bright blooms… For the first time, I thought Lonan looked fragile. Vulnerable.

He looked so out of place here, and I hated it, because I wanted him here more than anything.

For a split second, as I stared at him—hearing nothing but the musical trickle of water over rocks, the rustle of the leaves above, the faint murmur of our guards’ voices—it felt like I was going to burst into tears.

“Let’s go sit in the shade.” I straightened and plastered a too-wide smile on my face, reaching out to snag his hand. “I don’t want you to get too hot.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Lonan was still watching me as I led us back to the tree and tugged him down with me.

“This is the best day I’ve had in a while.” I leaned in and kissed him soundly. “Thank you.”

He huffed. “I haven’t even done anything.”

“You have.” I kissed him again before dipping my head to press my mouth to his shoulder, eyes sliding shut as I breathed him in.

Lonan settled back against the tree trunk and threaded his fingers through my hair as I rested my cheek on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He was warm beneath me, and I greedily inhaled the scent of his clean sweat as I closed my eyes once again to savour it.

It felt like only a minute later when the low, steady thrum of a bumblebee hovering by my ear roused me. But as I lifted a hand to lazily swat it away and opened my eyes, I realised the sun had moved in the sky and the shadow of the tree’s canopy had shifted across the grass.

The shirt under my cheek was damp with sweat. Lonan shifted as I rose up onto my elbow and scrubbed blearily at an eye. Damp heat emanated from my scalp when I shoved back the hair hanging in my face.

“Sorry.” I gave Lonan a tired smile. “You must’ve gotten way too hot with me on top of you.”

He shifted further upright to sit back against the tree trunk and reached out to finger the feather pendant dangling from my neck, drawing my gaze down to it.

“You’re trying to do too much,” he said quietly. “You’re not looking after yourself, Ash.”

“I’m fine.” My throat burned as I waved his concerns off, then covered his fingers with mine to touch the feather. Lonan never wore his acorn necklace anymore, and I tried not to think about it too much. “Hey, what’ll happen to this when I cash in my favour?”

“You mean the pendant?” When I nodded, he said, “The favour will be paid, so the feather will vanish.”

I pouted. “But I want to keep it.”

His lips curved into a tiny smile. “Sorry, Oak King. Those are the rules.”

I huffed and teased, “Well, why don’t I change the rules?”

“Not even you can change the very rules of fae, Luad.” Lonan lifted his hand to my hair, twisting a curl around his finger.

He still looked relaxed, but his skin was flushed and dewy, and his dark shirt was sticking to him in patches. The air was warm, almost stifling, with no breeze reaching us between the trees. I didn’t mind it, but my gut clenched with worry for Lonan. He overheated far easier than I did.

“Do you need some water?” I sat up and hastily reached for the bag. The glass bottles clinked together as I pulled one out and handed it over.

Lonan nodded at my necklace as he raised the bottle to his lips. “When you spend that one, I will just give you a new favour. So you still have a feather.”

I made a face. “But then it’s like you’re… always in debt to me. I don’t like the thought of that.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I do.” I yawned, absently tracing the feather in the hollow of my throat. The thought of it no longer being there felt strange. “Maybe I’ll just never use this one. But then it’s still like you owe me, I guess.”

“It’s just a favour, Ash.” Lonan lowered the bottle, now almost completely empty, and wiped his mouth. “I will give you a million favours, if that’s what you want, and I will do anything for you without them regardless.”

My throat closed up. I fumbled for his hand, lifting it so I could press my lips to his knuckles. My eyes prickled with heat, the sudden ache in the back of my throat surprising me. They were sweet words, wonderful words, but… enough to make me cry? Really?

Maybe I should tell someone about how wild my emotions had become. Maybe this really wasn’t a normal part of becoming a fae monarch. Maybe it should’ve all been fine by now.

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