Page 121 of A War of Three Kings

I place my hands on either side of Keira’s face and look deep into her eyes. “Say the word and I will help you conquer this kingdom. Hell, I’ll bring in enough fae that you can own the entire realm if you desire it. Whatever you want, Keira, I will give it to you.”

Edmund raises an eyebrow at me, but says nothing. He is probably thinking the same thing.

Keira lets out a long sigh. “I want peace. I want time with you where no one is trying to kill us or tear us apart.”

A group of priestesses converges on her, and she is drawn away from me.

Edmund puts an arm around my shoulders and leads me behind them. I will never get used to this casual intimacy from the man who was once my captor.

“What do you plan to do next?” I ask.

“Rebuild this fortress and hope the mad king has learned his lesson.” Edmund pauses. “Prepare for another war.”

Those words hang heavy in the air, and I cannot deny the necessity of them.We triumphed. We gained a victory and bested the mad king’s army.

So why doesn’t it feel like we are winning the war?

Chapter 32

Keira

The immense bonfires illuminate the entire field on the northern side of Fort Blackrock, stealing the chill from the air and chasing away the shadows of night. A shiver runs through me anyway, and Aldrin pulls me closer into his side, placing an arm over my shoulders and wrapping his cloak around the both of us.

“I am thoroughly enjoying the fact that I don’t have to hide how attracted I am to you.” His voice is a low rumble in my ear, and he nips it for emphasis.

I slap him on the chest, hard enough he almost topples backward on the log we sit on, throwing out a hand to catch himself. “You need to hide it a little! People might have a coronary. Humans are not as free-spirited as the fae.”

He laughs. The orange glow of the fire dances across the sharp planes of his face, making them seem more angular and severe. “That sounds like it is their problem.” He takes a lock of my hair and curls it around his finger, giving it a playful tug. “Now tell me, why do humans feel the need to burn people alive on the autumn equinox?”

“The wickermen are not people!” I laugh at him. “They are monuments.”

Aldrin raises his mug of apple cider toward a wickerman that hasn’t been set alight yet. A few nymphs stand before it, staring and unblinking, their heads tilted to the side. “Some of my people are very confused. I think the tree nymphs might be planning a rescue for that one.”

“But…” I frown in their direction, trying to decipher if he is serious. “The wickermen are only hay and corn husks shaped into the form of a giant. Should I go talk to them?”

“And what are the nymphs, if not branches molded into a living form that can change shape? Maybe they think this is a ritual to bring life to the wickermen.”

I rise, determined that someone needs to tell them this is only a ceremony of symbolism. We build men as tall as a castle’s turret and place rings of autumn leaves and sacrifices of our harvest around them in offering to the gods. The true, ancient gods of rule, creation and destruction, like the Life Creator and Soul Ripper. Not the Tuatha Dé Danann who bred the fae. We burn it all under the full moon, to send our gifts of thanks to their realm.

I take a single step away from Aldrin before he grabs my arm and tugs me back, making me fall into his lap.

“I’m toying with you, Keira.” His arm slides around my waist.

The smoldering look he gives me as he peers down into my face sends hot flushes through my body. His lips kick up slightly as he very clearly imagines a hundred different ways he would like to haul me away and take me, but as he opens his mouth to speak sensual promises, I cut him off.

“Aldrin?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, placing my hands on his chest.

“I haven’t done anything tonight you need to be grateful for. But I can toss you over my shoulder and have you moaning yourappreciation within five minutes. I can use my fingers. Or my tongue. Or my cock. Your choice.”

I fist his tunic as my stomach muscles tighten and heat pools between my legs, enjoying the way the fabric bunches to reveal more of his chest.

“That—umm…later.” I blink as my brain malfunctions. It takes a few heartbeats to get my thoughts back on track. “I meant, thank you for fighting for me. This isn’t your?—”

He puts a finger over my lips, stopping my words. “If you say this isn’t my war, I am going to be furious. Your people aremypeople. Your fight for freedom ismyfight. I have a vested interest in this kingdom. It is you. I will not tolerate anything or anyone that makes you unhappy.”

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