Page 8 of Protected By the Fae King

“Please don’t.”

Another pang pierced my heart, and I thought again about how much trouble I was causing my brother.

Just stop fighting with him. Do what he says. He loves you.

“Okay,” I agreed. “I’m sorry.”

He waved goodbye, leaving me alone in the tiny apartment to pace alone for the rest of the day, my nerves fraying as the minutes ticked past. I forced myself to sit down at the table, where I picked up a discarded pencil and began to doodle mindlessly to settle my nerves.

My mind spun as I went back and forth between wanting to argue when he returned and being a good sister and agreeing to his terms. We had once lived in the palace, after all. It wasn’t a dungeon. It was a beautiful place filled with things to do and miles of grounds to wander. But it also wasn’t home, and I wasn’tgoing to have the freedom to come and go—that much had already been made clear to me.

I needed to start packing, so I headed back into the bedroom, my heart sinking with resignation. The decision had been made for me. I was becoming too big of a problem for Saint to handle now, and short of running off and trying to make it on my own, I had little choice but to accept his solution.

Who knows? Maybe the king would set me up with a duke or something.

The thought didn’t make me smile. I only wanted to cry at the thought of leaving my brother’s side for the first time in my life. My powers were screwing up my life again, just like they always had.

It wasn’t a blessing, this wayward, uncontrollable power that reared its ugly head at whim. It was an absolute curse that only brought me and everyone around me strife.

And what duke was going to want to marry into that kind of baggage?

Chapter 3

Jace

Six or seven outfits lay on the bed as I changed again. My head swiveled back toward the red shirt and black pants, but the blue was my favorite. Or maybe the beige would be better. Understated.

Fuck that. I didn’t want to be understated at a party.

I decided to choose between the red and the blue.

A puff of smoke appeared, announcing that I wasn’t alone any longer in my chambers. I called out to Cirilla without turning away from the closet mirrors that overtook the entire length of the doors. “Which shirt should I wear?”

A prism of color caught my eye over my shoulder, the palace enchantress appearing behind me in a pantsuit, looking business-like and stern despite her rainbow-colored locks piled elegantly atop her head. Violet irises studied me intently, head cocked pensively as she considered my question.

“Does it really matter which one I suggest?” she asked dryly, stalking closer, her heels clicking against the waxed wood floors. “You’re just going to wear what you want, anyway.”

I grinned, the veracity of her statement amusing me.

“Very true,” I conceded with a chuckle. “Still, I wouldn’t mind your opinion. Which one would you want one of your many suitors wearing?”

“You don’t mind my opinion when it agrees with yours?” Cirilla laughed, rolling her eyes. “The red one.”

“Hm. I was leaning toward the blue.”

“I’m shocked that you’re being contrary,” the enchantress grunted, less amused now. “And I’m not here to discuss your wardrobe with you.”

“Oh? Are you here to tell me you’re heading out on another date?” I only teased, but I was slightly annoyed.

Cirilla’s social life sometimes interfered with her duties in the palace, her availability diminished by the amount of gratuitous sex she seemed to have. Nothing was more irritating to me than waiting on the enchantress to respond to a text message or voice mail when I needed something, even if she did ultimately come through every time.

“Not tonight.”

“Is it the party, then?” I asked.

“No. Elix is settled in the north wing,” she sighed, ending the guessing game between us.

My right eyebrow arched. “Elix?”

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