Chapter 28
Why do you view yourself so poorly?
The King’s words haunted me throughout the evening and all night long. Was that what he thought? That I had no self-esteem or sense of self-worth? Just because I couldn’t understand why he’d pursued me and then wanted nothing to do with me.
Stewing over what he’d said, what it could have possibly meant, had kept me up for hours. But what woke me a few hours before dawn on Sunday morning, was the little voice that kept whispering that there might be some truth to his question.
After all, why did I think that he’d said all those wonderful things about me?
Why had he kissed me and brought me such mind-numbing pleasure?
Was it because he felt that he owed me for getting his brother back to Hotel Good Fae when he’d been hurt?
Or because I had allowed him to feed on me when he was gravely injured with wounds that wouldn’t have been so serious if he’d been feeding in the first place?
He’d been shot the night I’d found Elliot, one of the missing fae younglings that had turned evil, presumably due to the tainted nightshade.
Not once did I think to myself that he’d simply been attracted to me, despite the fact that I was human, and he was surrounded by stunning, ethereal fae.
And there was a good chance that he was still attracted to me despite cutting things off.
It seemed like he’d been about to kiss me on Saturday night.
Hell, his lips had touched mine. Barely, but still.
And what if he had kissed me? Would I have allowed that?
I couldn’t seriously be questioning that.
I knew that I would’ve, and likely would have been pissed off at myself afterward.
I needed to get my life right.
Starting with finding and killing Aric and not allowing myself to be wooed by the King.
Both, at this point, seemed of equal importance.
None of this stuff with the King mattered, and neither did my possible lack of self-esteem.
If I survived my showdown with Aric, I’d work on that with self-help books or something.
Sighing, I watched the early morning sunlight creep across the floor toward the edge of the bed where Dixon lay curled in a tight ball. He hadn’t been there when I fell asleep.
The sudden creak of a footstep landing on the loose board I kept planning to fix stirred the cat awake. Dixon’s furry head lifted toward the door I knew he’d managed to nudge open at some point during the night.
He started purring, sounding like a mini-engine.
Figuring it was Tink, who was probably about five seconds from dive-bombing the bed, I rolled onto my back and looked toward the door—
My heart stopped in my chest.
That was how it felt, like it came to an unexpected, jarring halt. My lips parted as my brain tried to process who I saw standing there. It wasn’t Tink.
It was him.
The King.
He stood in the doorway of my bedroom like he belonged there, as if he’d been invited. And he most definitely had not been invited, nor did he belong in my house.
At all.
But it was him, his golden hair free and brushing the full breadth of his shoulders, his plain black shirt following the lines and curves of his muscles.
All I could do was stare at him.
One side of his lips curved upward. “Good morning.”
I sat up so fast I startled Dixon. The cat stood, shooting me a baleful glare before hopping off the bed. “What are you doing in here?”
“Tink let me in.” He glanced down as Dixon brushed against his leg, the cat’s tail high. “You know, most people usually respond with ‘good morning’ when they are given that greeting.”
“I don’t care what most people do,” I exclaimed, promising myself that I would straight-up murder Tink. Which was a promise that I made a lot. “Why are you up here? In my bedroom?”
Reaching down, the King scratched the cat’s head, earning himself a rather loud purr from the feline. “I wanted to see you.”
It took me a moment to get my tongue to work. “I think I made it pretty clear the other night that I have no interest in seeing you.”
“I know.” The King gave Dixon one more pat, and the cat scampered off down the hall. The fae rose to his full height, those tawny eyes meeting mine. “But we both know that’s not true.”
“I-I—” I sputtered in disbelief. “You’re out of your mind. Seriously.”
“I was never in it.” His gaze flickered over my face and then moved lower, lingering. “Definitely not now.”
My brows puckered as my gaze followed his to the deep vee in my sleep shirt.
The pale pink top had slipped off my shoulder, and the material was thin enough to reveal that there was a chill in the room.
That was the reason my nipples were hard.
It had absolutely nothing to do with the King’s presence or the way he was staring at me.
Nope. Not at all.
I clenched the edges of the blanket. “You could’ve just waited until I got up.”
“I’m not very patient.” He strode forward, and I tensed, my eyes glued to him as he sat on the bed—my bed.
“I didn’t say you could sit down.”
“I know.”
I stared at him.
The King stared back, his infuriatingly sexy half-grin appearing. “I wanted to talk.”
“About?”
His gaze flicked from me to the wall. “About Aric.”
Every muscle locked up. That was unexpected. “And this couldn’t wait until later? Like when I’m not in bed?”
“No.”
“No?”
“I’ve found catching you off guard makes conversation with you easier.”
My brows slammed down. “I don’t think that was a compliment.”
“It actually was,” he replied, his gaze tracking over my bedroom, lingering on the stacks of books and framed pictures of my parents and me. “He’s truly evil.”
I blinked, not following him.
“Aric. You wanted to know more about him. That’s what you need to know.
He’s pure, unadulterated evil, and I do not make that statement lightly.
Nor do I believe most have ever come across someone who is actually evil,” he said, and I could not stop the shiver of dread from curling down my spine.
“He cut straight through me in battle, weakening me so I was susceptible to the Queen’s spell.
But he wasn’t always my enemy. At least I had not known him to be. But you knew that already.”
I did.
“He wasn’t just one of my Knights, assigned to protect me.
We grew up together, his family closely linked with mine.
He was one of my closest confidants. My friend.
And the whole time, he was plotting to betray my family and our Court.
” The King looked away. “How does one look another in the eye, day after day, have supper with their families, and be privy to their secrets and desires, all the while hating them enough to destroy those closest to them?”
“I…” I swallowed. “I don’t know.”
“Neither do I.” He cleared his throat. “He drew our Court into war by killing many of our younglings before taking someone who meant a lot to my family…to me. He did not just kill his captive. No, that would’ve been too easy.
He did things that no creature—human or fae or animal—should ever suffer through.
And he did this, all the while pretending to help us find our loved one, eventually leading us right to the body of…
” He shook his head. “It’s something I will never forget seeing.
Even under the Queen’s spell, the images… They remained.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, reaching out without thinking and placing my hand on his arm. His skin was warm under my palm as I squeezed gently. “I really am.”
He looked down at where my hand touched him and, after a moment, he continued.
“It wasn’t until we were in the middle of the battle that he revealed that he’d been behind it all.
And he reveled in my shock, my despair. He got off knowing how deeply that cut because I looked upon him as a brother—not of my blood, but of my heart. ”
Sickened, I had no idea what to say.
“And he made damn sure I knew what had been done to the one he took. To all of them. I saw the proof his words carried on the bodies of his victims,” he said. “I saw what he was capable of. I felt what he’s capable of. Some kill because they have to. Some because they enjoy it. He’s the latter.”
I believed that beyond a doubt.
“Do you understand why Aric is so dangerous? He is capable of anything.” The King lifted his gaze from where my hand still rested on his arm.
“Not just because he’s loyal to the Queen, but because he is truly evil.
A real monster who enjoys inflicting pain and terror.
He’s not like others you’ve faced. He’s not…
he’s not even like me when I was under the Queen’s spell. ”
“I do understand. He’s done terrible things to you. To me. He’s dangerous, and he’s evil,” I told him, swallowing the thick lump of emotion that had taken root in my throat. “But I’ve always known that about him. I know that I—”
“That you will most likely die seeking vengeance?” he cut me off. “A slow, most definitely agonizing death? Is revenge truly worth that?”
I pulled my hand back. “I think you of all people know the answer to that.”
A muscle flexed along his jaw. “Brighton, please—”
“There’s nothing you can say. Nothing you can do—” My words ended on a sharp inhale as he moved too fast for me to track.
He was suddenly over me, his arms caging me in against the headboard.
I inhaled, drowning in his citrusy scent.
My heart thumped against my ribs as his warm breath coasted over my lips.
“I won’t do it,” he growled.
“Do what?” I whispered, shivering as he lifted a hand, placing his palm against my cheek.
“I won’t do it,” he repeated, sliding his thumb over my lower lip. I gasped. His head tilted as his hand slipped down my throat and over the bare skin of my shoulder.
My eyes drifted shut as heat filled my blood. Part of me hated how my body responded to him, how my heart swelled and raced whenever he was near. All of me wanted him, though, and I loathed that most of all.