Page 5 of Protected By the Fae King

“No, Saint, please,” I said again, lowering my voice plaintively. Yelling at my brother had never gotten me very far. In the end, he was the head of the household, the one who brought in all the money and kept us from going under when we had left the palace all those years ago. He had single-handedly worked his way up to foreman of the construction company and kept us in a comfortable life. He was doing his best for me— and always had.

“Can’t we talk about this rationally?” I pleaded. “I’m sorry about what happened the other night, but it won’t happen again. I swear!”

He visibly tensed at the reminder, his strong jaw locking, but he didn’t comment as he continued to eat, and my voice raised an octave.

“Please! I don’t want to go live in the palace again!”

“You’re doing this, Elix. I can’t worry about you and provide for the household at the same time. It’s too much. I’m at my wits’ end with all the stress.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, though! I can handle myself?—”

“That’s not right, though, is it?” he cut me off. “I’m at work all day, busting my ass, and I can’t concentrate on my work because I don’t know what I’m going to come home to now. I have no idea if you’re going to be under the spell of another gargoyle or whatever the fuck that one was.”

“He wasn’t a gargoyle,” I grouched, rolling my eyes. “Stop being stupid. There’s no such thing.”

“Fine. A warlock then,” he conceded. “A male practicing black magic who wanted you.”

I threw up my hands, my temper flaring again at his melodrama. “I learned my lesson. I’ll be more careful!”

“You almost took off with that warlock—” he reiterated.

“I did not! Stop exaggerating!” This time, I interjected, wishing he wouldn’t keep throwing that mistake in my face. I’d let my guard down one time, and this was the end result.

How could he even entertain this idea? Was this the King’s plan? Freaking Jace.

“How could you even go there and beg for his help? I thought we were through with the palace!” I fired out, hoping to appeal to his pride. For half a second, it worked, my brother’s face flashing.

“I didn’t beg him. I asked an old friend for help.”

“At the palace? What would Mom say about that?” I demanded furiously, slapping my hands on the table.

Saint ground his teeth. “This is how desperate I am to keep you safe, Elix. I’m willing to go back, if that’s what it takes.”

“But it’s not you going back, is it?” I cried passionately. “You’re sendingmeback! You’re makingmego there!”

My brother’s face softened, but only slightly. “You’re acting like this is a punishment to you. It’s not. This is the best way to make sure you’re always kept safe and in the best hands possible. Jace is happy to host you.”

“Saint, Mom never wanted us to live in the palace,” I reminded him. “That’s why we live in Geldon. We left there so that we don’t have to work for the king. She never wanted us to be house servants like her.”

He sighed heavily and shook his shaggy, dark hair, running a calloused hand through it.

“We live in Geldon because I moved us to Geldon,” Saint growled, his eyes narrowing. “I’mthe one who pays for thisapartment, Elix.I’mthe head of this place. Every decision I’ve made since Mom died has been mine alone. Sometimes I think you forget that.”

I balked at the reminder. It wasn’t often that my brother threw that in my face, but when he did, he meant business.

“So I go live in the palace and what? Work as a maid like Mom did?” I asked miserably. “Serve King Jace hand and foot?”

The idea appalled Saint. It was written all over his face. “No! Of course not! You’ll be his guest. Our relationship isn’t like that. He never wanted me to leave the palace in the first place, if you remember. If Jace had his way, you and I would be set up in our own wing—or in the pool house.”

I laughed aloud at his naivete. “Yeah, sure.”

My brother grimaced at me. “Why don’t you believe that we’re friends?”

Gnawing on the insides of my cheeks, I didn’t spell it out for him again. He refused to hear what I really thought about Jace.

The king wouldn’t befriend someone like you. You’re a working fae with no money. He’s surrounded by rich debutantes who throw themselves at his feet. He doesn’t associate with faeries like us. What could he possibly want from you?

I didn’t doubt that my brother and the king had once played in the halls when the king had been orphaned and bored. I had a vague memory of Saint spending time with Jace, even attending the odd gala, but Saint was gullible to believe that King Jace thought of him like a brother.

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