Page 113 of A Bargain with the Fae King

They’ve gone, leaving me alone in the arms of the man I loved only hours ago. The same one who had my sister kidnapped.

Chapter 35

Rivenholdsmelikea porcelain vase. “Lia—”

“Get off me! Let me go!” I thrash against him like a hellcat.

The shell of his arms parts. I shove against his unmoving chest, aiming to knock him back, but push myself away in the process, sliding back across the grass.

“Don’t touch me,” I hiss.

Pain washes across his features again, twisting something inside me, despite my anger. The arrogant King of the Forest is gone. Hard lines paint the face of the male on the forest floor with me, but they’re not lines of anger. This is sorrow, gouged deep as any physical wound or scar. Mere feet separate our bodies, but it may as well be a gulf.

“What did he do to you?” he asks.

A humorless laugh bubbles from me. He thinks Sigurd is to blame for this? “He told me the truth.”

Riven’s head draws back. His lips thin and snarl all at once. “You don’t understand.”

“Is it true then?” The words are a shout, a wicked weapon flung his way, and it’s not enough, will never be enough. “Did you really order the Unseelie to capture May? Was it all a deception to get me here and into your bed?”

He looks like I slapped him, utterly struck by my accusation. Eyes wide. Mouth parted, showing the tips of glinting fangs. The reaction dims as quickly as it came, and if possible, his countenance darkens even more. If the King of the Forest can control its shadows, he’s pulled them to him in this moment.

“Calm down. We need to talk about this.” Each word is hard. Icy. Brittle.

He still hasn’t answered my question. And Ineedanswers. Everything depends on them.

My fingernails dig into the grass below me. The dirt. “Tell me. Yes or no, did you orchestrate my sister’s kidnapping?”

Riven stares back, unmoving, unspeaking.

Whatever is left of my heart utterly shatters, a million tiny knives slicing me open within. Oh God, he can’t deny it. His form blurs through my tears. He can’t lie to tell me it isn’t true.

I didn’t think I could hurt any more.

I was wrong. So wrong.

Bile burns my throat, and I twist to the side, vomiting onto the grass.

Vaguely, I’m aware of something rustling behind me.

“Don’t.” I fling an arm out, warding off his assumed approach. The movement stops. I wipe at my mouth, failing to scrub away the tang of bile that clings to my taste buds.

“Please…” His voice cracks and rasps. “Let me explain.”

“What else is there to say?” I twist my head around and stare at him through the strands of hair sticking to my tear-dampened face.

The fae king kneels on the ground just behind me, close enough for a whiff of his honeysuckle scent to tease my senses with flashes of memories more painful than any words.

“I will return her to you. Even without the key, I will find a way. It never should have come to this. It’s my fault, and I will make it right, Lia. Believe that if nothing else.” His tight fists drip blood onto the grass.

“Why? How could you—” I choke on the words, unable to continue as a sob wracks my body.

Almost killing May was horrible. It wrecked me, still tries to undo me every chance it gets.

But that was an accident. A mistake. My fault but not something I ever intended.

But this…Thiswas planned. Intentional. And I played into it like the foolish little human I am.

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