Filthy Rich Fae

Epilogue

“You’ll understand.”

Light seeped into my dream, and I blinked to discover a buttery shaft of sun pouring through the open window. I bolted up, staring at the white curtains fluttering on the warm breeze sweeping through the room. I clutched the soft sheet over me as I scanned my surroundings. A gold clock ticked faintly on the nightstand, a glass of water resting next to it. My fingers drifted to my dry mouth. A cloying sweetness lingered on my parched lips. The memory of a hand pressing a chloroform-soaked cloth flashed to mind, and I ignored the drink.

Throwing off the sheets, I hauled my heavy legs over the side of the foreign bed. My heart stuttered when I saw the white cotton nightdress I wore. Where were my clothes? I scanned the bedroom’s paneled walls, their serene white continuing to the furniture. Everything was bright and calm and lovely.

Everything was a lie.

I rose on unsteady feet and walked slowly to the door. I said a silent prayer as I reached for its crystal knob, my pulse speeding up as my gaze fell on the emerald I wore.

“Don’t take it off.”

I winced as Lach’s voice filled my head, an ache spreading through my chest, threatening to send me to my knees. I forced myself to turn the knob, deflating with relief to find it unlocked. Bracing myself, I stepped into an airy lounge. Columns held up the high ceiling, the walls punctuated with arched doorways. The glossy marble floors were cool against my feet as I tiptoed through the open space. There were no guards. No staff.

I wasn’t a prisoner.

I followed the breeze moving through an arch. It drifted out of the palace and into a courtyard. I paused on the threshold, drinking in the lush, manicured hedges surrounding the stone palace. A blood-apple tree rose from the center of the immaculate gardens. I was in the Otherworld, but where? My eyes studied the rolling hills in the distance, their brilliant green peppered with golden flowers.

The clink of metal on china drew my attention away from the distance, and I turned to find a table laid with crisp linens and expensive china. A small bounty of fruit and pastries waited along with a familiar face. Not Bain, thankfully, but a friend waiting for me. I waited for relief to find me, but something locked me in place. I forced myself forward, ignoring the cold creeping up the base of my spine. He didn’t look up from the paper he was reading as I approached. I paused at the edge of the table.

He ruffled his newspaper and turned the page. “I hope you slept well.”

Was he the person on the other end of the phone Lach had left me? Had Channing made the call? I turned in a full circle as if my brother might appear from somewhere within the palace.

But my host gestured to a seat across from him. “Please sit.”

I did, still processing the rolling countryside that surrounded us, peaceful and lovely, so perfect that it almost hurt. Gnawed. Like underneath the idyllic beauty, something festered.

“Please eat something.” He pushed a tray of pastries toward me, but I stared at the gold-rimmed china before me.

“How did I get here?” I asked.

A frown tipped his mouth, and he picked up a scone. “I apologize for that unpleasant business.” He slathered clotted cream on it and placed it on my plate. I didn’t touch it, and the frown deepened. “It’s not poisoned. I promised you would be safe here. I always keep my word, Cate.”

I folded my hands to hide my trembling fingers. “Did Lach send me here?”

“Have something to eat,” he urged, ignoring my question.

Maybe Lach thought sending me to a light court would protect me from Bain, but I didn’t belong here. I belonged with him. I didn’t care about the Wild Hunt or the danger. I wouldn’t sit around eating scones while Lach fought for his life. I moved, bracing my palms on the table to rise. “I want to go home.”

He picked his paper back up. “The Nether Court is not your home.”

And this man was not my friend.

Numbness spread through me, my hands slipping as I slid into the chair. “Where is he?”

He shrugged, eyes skidding over the newsprint. “Holed up somewhere, but he’ll come out soon enough.”

“He’s not that stupid. The Hunt is after him.”

But he snorted. “Don’t underestimate how stupid love makes you. Look what he did to save you.”

I opened my mouth to deny it, but the words choked in my throat. Lach had saved me, chosen me over his court, taken the final shot to keep the Hunt from marking me. The truth splintered through me. My heart hammered wildly against my breastbone, trying to escape the confines of my chest to seek him.

For a moment, the world fell away as every ounce of my being cried out to him as if he might hear me. I gripped the edge of the table to keep from crumbling. The light caught the ring I wore, casting golden ribbons over my skin. They swirled and shifted. I blinked, and they were gone—but something soft soothed the ragged need. Maybe it was the magic of the court playing tricks on me.

“With any luck, he’ll destroy the Infernal Court before the Hunt catches him.” He continued in an easy, friendly way that made every word more cruel.

I had trusted this man. We had trusted him. “What are you going to do with me?”

“I haven’t quite decided yet,” he confessed. “Eat something.”

But Lach had known. I swallowed and lifted my chin. “No.”

The friendly face slipped to reveal the monster below it. “Fucking eat something!”

I flinched, cowering from his sudden, violent rage. I broke off an end of the scone but didn’t put it in my mouth. I’d learned my lesson about fae food. But he settled again, mollified by my feigned obedience.

“Really, I can do whatever I want with you.” He poured tea into a waiting cup and saucer. “Your brother isn’t terribly bright, and he’s a disastrous negotiator. He left me so much to work with.”

I stiffened, my fingers edging toward the butter knife next to my plate. He tracked the movement.

“I’m not uncivilized, Cate.” He clucked a disapproving tongue, and the knife slid across the table to him. “I’m not like those monsters in the shadow courts.”

No, he was something worse. A devil with the face of an angel.

He shrugged at my stony silence. “And you only have to be here to serve my purpose.”

I swallowed. “And what is your purpose?”

The appearance of his sister interrupted us. She was even lovelier in her own court, her skin glowing like she was lit from within. Her warm amber eyes cooled as they landed on me, a sneer curling her upper lip as she dropped into the empty chair between us. “Does she have to eat with us?”

I could only stare at her.

“Cate is our guest, for now,” he added, his teacup settling with an ominous clink on its saucer. Oberon turned back to me. “As to your question—what is any king’s purpose? War.”

The love doesn’t end here…

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