I led King Torin up the stairs to Shaliniâs apartment. It felt strange being so close to him. With his lean, muscular build, his piercing eyes, and cut-glass jawline, it was hard not to stare. King Torin was in a whole other category of masculine beauty, of icy eyes and sun-kissed skin. Fae beauty could be otherworldly, almost dizzying in its power, and he seemed to embody that perfectly.
If I hadnât just had my heart ripped out and incinerated, it might have had some kind of effect on me.
Instead, he only irritated me with his absurd confidence. There was no caution, no hesitation when he spoke. He stated his thoughts and expected to be obeyed. He moved with a calculated grace.
When I reached Shaliniâs door, I glanced at him. His eyes glinted in the gloom of the stairwell, and I felt my muscles tighten. My breath caught, and I hesitated, my body unwilling to slide the key into the lock.
It took me a few moments to put my finger on the sensation. Last time Iâd visited the zoo, Iâd stopped by the tiger exhibit. The massive beast had been out, pacing the perimeter of its cage. When Iâd made eye contact, the creature had looked right back at me, sending a sharp sliver of fear through my bones. The look wasnât hungry, but it was clear nevertheless: the tiger wouldnât hesitate to rip my throat out if it wanted.
I got the same feeling when I made eye contact with King Torin. The hairs on the back of my arms rose.
Hadnât Shalini said heâd murdered someone? Frankly, it wasnât hard to believe.
âSomething the matter?â he purred.
I turned from him, jammed my key into the lock, and opened the door. Torin walked in first, like he owned the place.
I quietly closed the door behind him, my heart racing, and turned to face him. âKing Torin? Sorry, how am I supposed to address you?â
The fae kingâs eyes flashed. âTorin is fine.â
âAll right, Torin. This is my friend Shaliniâs apartment. Sheâs asleep in the other room, so weâre going to need to be quiet. What exactly is it you want to tell me?â
King Torin paused, scrubbing a hand over the faint stubble on his jaw. For the first time since Iâd met him, he seemed hesitant. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper. âFaerie is dying.â
âWhat?â This was absolutely the last thing I expected to hear.
Iâd thought King Torin and his fae host were immensely powerful. Theyâd crushed all human opposition in our realm. It was said that within the land of Faerie, King Torin wielded the power of a god. And that was basically how it had looked when heâd summoned pillars of ice from the road.
He frowned, staring at the window. âWhen a Seelie king sits on the fae throne, he draws upon the magic of the realm to defend the kingdom and conquer new lands. The queen, on the other hand, replenishes that magic. Her magic is vernal, bringing growth and fertility. It will take months to fully return magic to our realm, and after that, weâll need a queen to sit on the throne occasionally.â
âSo, you need someone elseâs magic to replenish your own? Youâre running out of power?â
âYes.â His eyes met mine. âTwenty-three years ago, my mother died. She was the last queen of Faerie. Since then, Iâve been drawing upon the magic of the realm. Iâve had to fight the humans and keep the rest of the Seelie clans in line. Iâve drained a great deal of magic from the kingdom. And now, a cold winter had descended upon the land. Only a queen on the throne can replenish our magic and bring back the spring. And thatâs where you come in.â
I sighed. âOkay. So, you want me to be your wife so your kingdom can drain my magic? Donât be offended, but Iâm going to pass on this offer. Why donât you ask one of the many fae women who actually want to do this? There are plenty of them clamoring for the chance.â
âI donât want you to be my wife, either,â said King Torin. âThatâs the whole plan. Thatâs why youâre so perfect.â
I blinked. âSorry, what?â
âYouâll just need to marry me for a few months. Not for very long. And you wouldnât need to consummate anything. Just sit on the queenâs throne and channel your power. Replenish Faerieâs magic. Help me save the kingdom. Once things are back to normal, weâll get divorced. And you can go back toââhe surveyed the small living roomââthis place. And it can all be over without any messy emotions getting in the way because we donât like each other. At all.â
He paused, crossing his arms over his chest like heâd just delivered the deal of a lifetime.
I stared at the king. âWhy would I do this? You want me to become your wife, then divorce you a few months later. Can you imagine the impact that would have on my life? I hate being the center of attention, and Iâd be all over the news as âa gold-digger common fae.â Just that ten minutes outside was one of the worst experiences of my life. And after I left Faerie? Iâd be all over the tabloids. I donât need this. I have a mess of my own here I need to sort out, Torin. I need to find a way to get my own place. Normal things like rent that you probably donât even know about. Canât you just find someone you actually love?â
For a moment, I thought I saw him wince. Then his expression became unreadable again. âI was planning on paying you handsomely for your role. Thirty million dollars to cover your time and any potential future issues. Youâd be set up for life. You can choose to stay in Faerie, with the understanding that it will not be a real marriage. I should probably add that there is a good chance you could die during the tournaments.â
I froze, my eyes widening. âThirtyâ¦sorry I thought you saidâ¦did you say thirty million?â As soon as the words were out of my mouth, it occurred to me that I was a terrible negotiator. If he was willing to throw thirty million at me, how high could I get him to go?
I rested my hand on my hip. âI wonât have my good name dragged through the mud. And you did mention that I could die.â
He snorted. âYour good name? Your meltdown is all over mortal social media. How could it possibly be any worse?â
I closed my eyes, trying not to imagine what the memes were like. Shivers of horror crawled over my body at the thought of everyone sharing the video. Sounds of me slurring about Chad from trending on TikTokâ¦
It almost made the idea of running away to Faerie sound appealing.
âFifty million,â I said.
âFine. Fifty millionâif you win. I will do my best to keep you alive.â
âHow dangerous are we talking, exactly?â
âThe tournaments always end in a fencing match, and it has been known to get bloody. But I will help you train.â
I let out a long, slow breath. âBesides bartending, fencing is the one thing Iâm actually good at.â I bit my lip. âBut what are the chances Iâll win?â
âAssuming you survive, almost certain, since Iâm the one who chooses the bride. We just need to make sure it seems believable that Iâd choose you, which wonât exactly be easy afterâ¦â
âThe drunken meltdown, yes.â
âYou must avoid making another public spectacle of yourself in Faerie. My cursory research tells me that until last night, I didnât see any other evidence of public disgrace or scandal. Do you think you can conduct yourself with a modicum of decorum? Iâm not expecting much, but my marriage to you has to be at least believable. And the idea of marrying a low-born common fae with a slovenly appearance and a drinking problem already stretches the bounds of credulity.â
His insults were sliding right off me now becauseâ¦
I could probably my own privacy. I could buy people to compliment me. I could get takeout curry every night. It was a dizzying amount of money; I almost couldnât comprehend what Iâd do with it.
I opened my eyes again to find that King Torin had fallen silent and was staring at me. An icy fire danced in his eyes. I sensed that he was studying me. Not in a sexual way, but rather that he was finally taking me in as a person. Assessing my running outfit. The dark circles under my eyes. The ratâs nest of my hair. Assessing weaknesses.
âWho are your parents?â he said at last.
âMy motherâs name was Chloe Jones.â
âNot her.â He leaned closer. âWho was your biological mother? Your true family?â
A heavy weariness pressed down on me, and I wanted to flop onto the sofa again. A buried memory from my childhood clawed at the hollow recesses of my mind: me, standing before the portal, clutching a Mickey Mouse backpack, sobbing uncontrollably because they wouldnât let me in.
âI honestly have no idea. I tried to go back into Faerie one day, but they wouldnât allow me.â
He cocked his head. âWhy were you trying to get in? Did the human woman mistreat you?â
I felt instantly defensive at his question, and also annoyed he referred to her as .
âNo. My mother was amazing. But the kids at school thought I was a freak with weird ears and ridiculous blue hair, and they werenât kind. They tied me to a fence post once, like a dog leashed outside a café. I just wanted to see other people like me.â
A dark look slid across his eyes. âWell, now you will. If you agree to my proposal, I will help you find your fae family.â
âIâm sure theyâre dead. Why would they let me get kicked out if they werenât?â
But my mind was already made up. Because what kind of moron would turn down fifty million dollars?
Especially someone homeless and unemployable, which was my current situation. With fifty million dollars, I could open an entire chain of barsâif I even decided to work again.
And the truth was, even if they were dead, I was desperate to know more about my birth parents. What exactly had happened to them? Fae almost always lived longer than humans. What were the chances theyâd died young?
I took a deep breath. âAll right, Iâm in. But we should sign some kind of contract.â
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a form. I watched as he held it against the wall and crossed a few things out, then signed his name in an elegant calligraphy at the bottom.
He handed me the form, and I scanned it.
Generally, when given paperwork, my eyes just sort of glaze over, and the words seem to blur. Then I assume everything is fine, and I scribble my signature. But this was too important to half-ass, so I forced myself to focus. Heâd added in the amount Iâd be paid and initialed next to it. There was a clause about secrecy, and a stipulation that Iâd forfeit the money if I told any other fae about my role. And if I lost the tournament, I got nothing.
I licked my lips, realizing there might be no point to a contract with the most powerful person in the world. âWho, exactly, would enforce this?â
Surprise flickered over his features. âIf a fae king breaks a contract, he will grow sick and die. I canât break it. Only you can.â
âRight. Okay. I guess thatâs binding, then.â I signed it, then handed it over to him.
âAre you ready?â he asked. âIt starts soon.â
â
? I havenât even showered.â
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. âUnfortunately, there is no time. But weâll try to make you presentable in Faerie.â
âI volunteer as tribute!â Shalini stood in the doorway of her bedroom wearing a hot pink bathrobe. âTake me to Faerie. Iâll be a contestant.â
Torin exhaled sharply. âYouâre not fae. And Ava has already agreed.â
âDonât some of the women have advisors?â asked Shalini. âSomeone as counsel? In Avaâs case, someone to stop her from any more outrageous drunken episodes?â
I should have asked about an advisor, but I was so caught off guard, I stammered, âShalini, what are you doing?â
âHelping you.â She beamed. âIâm not letting you go alone. Who knows what these people are like in their own realm? I heard him say itâs dangerous.â
Torin shrugged. âSo is your world.â
Of courseâShalini was desperate for adventure.
Torin turned, already heading for the door. âI donât really have time to argue about this, but maybe itâs not the worst idea. You may need emotional support to keep you from falling off the rails and someone to help negotiate any duels. Letâs go. Now.â
I felt my stomach drop.
Neat.
But if anything could take my mind off the crushing heartbreak of last night, maybe it was a looming threat of death.
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