Filthy Rich Fae

Chapter Eighteen

My heart was a drum roaring in my chest as I stared at the lock, trying to decipher if Lachlan meant to keep them out—or me in. He braced his palms against it, tension radiating from him.

“I forget how insufferable they are,” he gritted out.

I blinked, realizing he meant the other royals. That his agitation was about them, about their presence, their posturing, their fucking pissing contests. “Everyone seemed polite.” Except Bain, perhaps.

“Until you turn your back,” he said darkly. “They all have their own agendas.”

“And you don’t?”

His head dropped. “I’ve never been as good at hiding mine as the others.”

I doubted that. I still didn’t know what he wanted with me.

“Don’t let them get under your skin,” I said as my own pulse finally began to calm.

I studied him, the way his suit jacket strained against his muscular torso as he held that door like his life depended on it. Maybe I’d misinterpreted our hasty departure as jealousy on his part when, in reality, he’d used me as a means to escape. That…hurt.

I backed away. No. It shouldn’t hurt. I shouldn’t want him to be jealous. Shouldn’t want that hand on the small of my back to mean something. There were at least three other men in this very hotel who were kinder and better choices than him. Four, if I counted the young Astral prince. Why did I have to react to Lach’s every touch, to his presence, to him? I couldn’t resist even his smallest request. I was a single star in a vast, dark sky, and Lachlan was the black hole that would devour me. I couldn’t escape his gravity.

And worse, there were times I didn’t want to.

“Don’t let them under my skin,” he repeated with a hollow laugh. “I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

When he turned to face me, I edged toward the hall, wanting to hide in my room, afraid that this stupid, foolish rejection I felt was written all over my face. But he just leaned against the door and pushed a hand through his ink-black hair, leaving it loose and tousled and begging to be touched. He looked vulnerable. It was unsettling enough to tamp down my panic.

“You hate them all,” I said carefully.

“Not Aurora,” he admitted.

Jealousy speared through me, but I swallowed it down. I had no idea where it came from. “She’s pretty.” It was easy enough to say, since it was true.

“Is she?”

I crossed my arms over my chest, over my heart. “You know that she is.”

“The fae are beautiful.” His eyes traced along my face. “All of them.”

I knew he was looking at me and seeing a human, seeing that inconsequential star that he was bound to swallow and forget. The hurt flared back to life—more than it should have. I turned my face away from those prying eyes. “I suppose that’s my cue to find Ciara and put a glamour on.”

“Why?”

The soft question stopped me, but I just needed a few minutes, some distance to remind myself that Lachlan Gage had always been a very bad idea. And then tonight I would dance with Ciara, and maybe for once I would drink too much because I was actually safe here, I’d realized. Safer than I’d been in a very long time.

My mind replayed his lingering touch on my back. I tried to force myself to see it for what it was—a warning to the other fae that I belonged to him. At least according to the terms of the bargain. I was a toy to play with when he was bored, but I wasn’t to be touched by anyone else. He’d made that clear, but even so, there had been something in his eyes that suggested it was not so simple to him, either. It was a small thing to cling to, but I grabbed onto it and clung.

“Why do you need a glamour?” he pressed when I’d been silent for too long.

“I don’t want to stick out. Better to blend in.” Safer. Always safer.

His mouth tipped into a frown.

He was going to make me say it. He was going to make me face facts. “I’d rather look more fae tonight. Being the only human in the room is a novelty.” I bit my lip. “Although, I think Oberon wants to fuck me.”

Something lethal crept into his eyes at my last words.

“And do you want to fuck him?” Each word was careful, measured, and delivered just precisely enough that I felt a small spark in my chest.

“I don’t know. Do I? You sure act like fucking a fae should be on the top of my bucket list.” His answering silence felt dangerous, and somehow that was better than the nothing I’d felt before. Maybe because I was well-versed in danger and fear and anger. “What about Titania?”

“Fuck Titania and her brother? You are getting ambitious, princess.”

But I wasn’t going to let him ignore the bait, not until I’d forgotten that ache, not until I’d filled it with anger instead. “She wants you.”

“Titania wants everyone.”

“And you don’t?”

His eyes blazed with fire I couldn’t quite muster. “I think you will find that I have very particular tastes.”

“I’m aware. She’s gorgeous.”

“I don’t want Titania, Cate.”

His fiery eyes dared me to push him harder, to drag one more confession from him. But I had learned my lesson. Any closer and I would get burned. Any closer and I might not be able to escape that magnetic force he exuded as effortlessly as breathing.

When I didn’t respond, a muscle in his jaw twitched. “Be ready to leave at midnight.”

“That’s a little late for dinner, don’t you think?”

His lips curled into a smile that made my toes do the same. “It’s the Midnight Feast. And we won’t be dining.”

I shivered at the dangerous current running through his words, feeling it tug on me, feeling it pull me toward that unknown place again. I forced myself to swallow and nodded. “I’ll be ready.”

Something about his answering glower told me I wouldn’t be.

…

The trouble with getting ready for a midnight feast that was not a feast—whatever that meant—was I didn’t know how to prepare. I stared at the gown hanging on the closet door. I needed Ciara, not just to help me but to distract me, to pull me from my confusion. But I wasn’t about to risk going to find her. I settled for sending her a text message and prayed that all the strange magic in the building wouldn’t fuck with the cell reception.

It was almost laughable that I needed her to calm me down. That was supposed to be my job for her, especially tonight. Maybe I needed to steer clear of Lachlan or insist on taking one of the dozen other rooms on the top floor.

I wasn’t thinking straight around him. I had to get my shit together. Now.

Less than a month. I had less than a month to figure out what he got out of this bargain if I wanted to break it, and now the Nether Court was full of visiting fae intent on distracting me from my task. I couldn’t let them.

I took a quick shower to help settle my mind. But as I stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel, the door opened. My foot slid, and I careened, barely keeping myself upright. I snatched up the towel, draping it over my front as I spun around to find Lach.

“Don’t you knock?” I tugged the towel more tightly around myself, wondering how much he had seen.

Hooded eyes skimmed over every bare inch of my dripping skin not covered by the towel. “I did. Several times.”

“Well, obviously I didn’t hear you.” I huffed past him into the bedroom, hoping he interpreted my pink skin as a result of my shower and not his presence. If only I could do the same, but all the confusing feelings had reappeared in his presence.

“I was concerned for your safety,” he said blandly. “What if you had fallen and hit your head? You could have drowned.”

“I guess we’re not that lucky.” I threw open the closet and riffled through the hanging gowns until I found a silk robe. I’d barely tied it around my waist when the bedroom door flew open and Ciara rushed in, a collection of dresses gathered in her arms.

She deposited silk and tulle, satin and sequins onto the bed and turned to me, planting her hands on her narrow hips. “What are you wearing? Why didn’t we plan this out?” She shooed Lachlan away with one hand. “Go glower somewhere else.”

I bit back a laugh as his eyes narrowed, a tattoo winding around his knuckles as he cracked them.

“Try not to corrupt my…”

I waited for him to call me possession or toy or pet, my slitted gaze almost daring him.

But Ciara lost her patience, stomped over, and shoved her brother unceremoniously out the door before shutting it behind him. “Leering, obnoxious creep.”

Sometimes, they reminded me so much of my relationship with Channing it hurt. Except my brother was in a jail cell and I was going to a party. I forced the thought aside, reminding myself that I was only going to the party to protect Channing and get us out of this mess. Eventually.

Ciara returned to the bed, picking up gowns and tossing them to the side. “I have no idea what to wear.” She turned beseeching eyes to me. “And I don’t want to sleep with Bain.”

I sucked in a breath. “Then don’t.”

“You make that sound so simple.” She dropped onto the bed, sending the voluminous fabrics into the air. The dresses settled around her, but she didn’t look at them.

“Isn’t it?” I asked carefully. Despite the time we’d spent together over the last week, she hadn’t talked much about the betrothal. I’d followed her lead. But tonight was the eleventh hour.

“I don’t know. It should be. I’ve had plenty of hookups.” She picked at the hem of one of the dresses. “It’s different because I don’t want to. Not yet.”

Her words squeezed my heart. I sat down beside her and took her hand. “Then don’t. Spend some time with him. Maybe something will change.”

“What if he doesn’t understand?”

My blood ran cold at the fear lacing her voice. “I will shoot him myself.”

Ciera stared at me, blinking several times. “You mean that, don’t you?”

“I do.”

Her fingers tightened around mine, and then she giggled. “Do not fuck with Cate.”

I didn’t feel like laughing, though. Not when I knew how concerned she was.

The smile fell from her face. “Shit. I scared you.”

“I overreacted.”

But she searched my face, as if she now suspected what I was sure Lachlan already knew. “Lach would never let him touch me. I’m safe here,” she said softly, adding, “and you’re safe here.”

“Yeah, I know that.” I’d shown too much, and now she was worried about me, which was the last thing I wanted.

But she shook her head. “Seriously, there’s a code. The fae are a lot of things, but…”

I thought back to that first night in Lachlan’s office, of what had happened to the man that broke that code. Each time I recalled it, my disgust diminished. Tonight, it was nearly gone.

I reached for one of the dresses. “All of these are pretty, and you’ll look beautiful in any of them.”

“I don’t want to send the wrong message,” she said in a breathy whisper. “Not just to Bain but anyone who might be interested.”

“Anyone who might be—” My eyebrows lurched up my forehead. “What exactly is happening tonight?”

“Ever been to a bachelorette party?”

“Yes…”

“Like that but more…” She waved her hands around.

“Ritual fuckery?” I guessed.

She grimaced and picked up a dress, then tossed it back onto the pile. “One last fling before the ring, right? Except everybody joins in.”

Wait, what? “Tonight is…is…an orgy?”

She rolled her eyes, the gesture reminding me of her brother. “I assume he didn’t warn you.”

“He most certainly did not!”

She sighed and hugged a dress to her chest as she rose to her feet. “The Midnight Feast is held the night before the first calling of the banns.”

What did that have to do with an orgy? “I thought banns were a Catholic thing?”

“Where do you think they got the idea?” She shook her head, as if giving them credit personally offended her. “It’s a fae custom to announce a marriage three weeks before the wedding, spend that time working up the courage to go through with it while secretly hoping someone intervenes, and then get it over with.”

I blinked and waited for the joke. “Romantic.”

“Vampires copied it, and the church followed them, but they always get the credit for our ideas.”

“That’s why everyone is here for three weeks?” Lachlan had told me that Bain had insisted on following tradition and that doing so would give him time to negotiate a solution to the trinity problem. There was a lot of his plan that I didn’t like, but knowing why he was doing it would make it easier to show my face each night. “It sounds archaic.”

“You have to be sure before you marry in our world. Marriage bonds are funny things. They trump all other bargains. After a year, they can’t be dissolved, and fae…”

Lived a very long time.

“You don’t have to go through with it.”

“I know that.” Her chin quivered a little. “But it’s not a big deal. We’re both doing this for our courts. He wants an heir. Once I give him one, we can go back to ignoring each other.”

“But you’ll still be married.”

“A political marriage isn’t about love. It’s a transaction.” The words were automatic, and I wondered how many hours she’d spent convincing herself of that.

“Should it be?”

Ciara sucked in a deep breath. “Love is a luxury royalty can’t afford.” Her throat slid like it was a bitter truth to swallow. “Believe it or not, I made the final call to go through with this. It’s not Lach’s sole responsibility to care about the Nether Court.”

“And if he was the one who could get married, would he? Or would he make you do it?”

Ciara’s eyes flashed, but she turned to survey my closet. “We’re running out of time. We still need to figure out what we are wearing.”

“I’m supposed to wear that one.” I pointed to the gown that had been laid out for me.

She wrinkled her nose. “It’s lovely, but tonight is not about looking pretty. It’s about looking hot. Just in case, you want to…”

“I don’t think your brother will like it if I bring someone back to my room.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” she said wickedly. “But it’s not up to him.”

Yeah, right. “I’m not exactly looking for any action.”

She paused, assessing me with sparkling interest. “I’m guessing you’ve never banged a fae before.”

I nearly choked on my own spit. “No.”

“Pity.” She clicked her tongue. “I’m pretty sure Lach would be happy to remedy that for you.”

My mouth dropped open, but she’d already abandoned my closet and started rummaging through her pile. Finally, she held one up with a triumphant grin. “This is the one.”

I studied the petite dress. Ciara was nearly half a foot shorter than me. “That won’t fit me.”

“Please. There’s magic for that.”

I gaped at the breezy comment. “Magic? If there’s magic, why did I spend an entire night being stuck with pins during a three-hour dress fitting?”

Ciara laughed. “Wow. My brother really is a dick.”

The comforting prickle of irritation bristled through me. That was better. That was how I was supposed to feel when I thought about Lachlan Gage. Not only had he wasted my time, but he had also sat back and enjoyed watching me getting jabbed over and over again like some type of supernatural sociopath. A sociopath who apparently wanted me to play pretty, pretty princess so I would not attract too much attention this evening.

“Think of it this way. We’re not dressing for action”—a dazzling smile oozed across her face—“we’re dressing to get a reaction.”

Maybe Ciara was right. Maybe what I needed was to get a response—from everyone in the room. Because if Lachlan thought he had a claim to me, it was time to show him he was wrong.