Page 16 of A Bargain with the Fae King

I shake my head. There’s so much he never said. He only told me he was fae today. Or yesterday, whatever. And I never asked. My heel grinds into the dirt. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Why did I always talk about myself so much? But I know the answer to that. I needed someone I could talk to, and he was my person. He listened. He understood.

How selfish I’d been, using him to vent and heal but rarely asking about him. And yet he still came. He still wanted me with him.

I swallow my regrets and look back at the fae who’d spoken.

“How do I know you’ll take me to him?” If they really wanted to do me harm, they probably would have already, but still.

“Fae cannot lie.”

My brows rise. I’m supposed to believe that?

I jump as a horse trots into the circle with us as if from nowhere.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” He grabs the horse’s reins, and it nuzzles his shoulder. Point to golden tree guy. He extends his hand. “We don’t have time for this. Come with me.”

My teeth grind together.Thatsounds familiar. When I don’t move, he signals the others. I brace and shift my weight to the balls of my feet, expecting them to come for me. Instead, they jog off into the forest.

Golden Tree flicks his fingers for me to come, annoyance clear on his face in the way his features shift and scrunch.

Shit. Fine. Every minute we waste here is one more away from May. If Riven is what this fae says, he can help, surely.

Reluctantly, I take his hand and let him help me into the saddle. I haven’t been on a horse in years, but it definitely wasn’t this comfortable. The saddle is firm but soft all at once, cradling me. In one easy move, he’s up and sitting behind the saddle. Somehow, we fit, though being this close and wedged between his strong thighs feels all kinds of wrong.

He’s been nice enough so far, handsome too, but I can almost see Riven scowling in my head. It shouldn’t matter. I’m not his. He’s not mine. Shit, he’s not even human.

“Hang on, Lia.” Golden Tree’s words still ring in the air when the horse bolts.

I screech as we plunge into the forest, barely dodging trees, vines, and all manner of plant life. My eyes slam shut on instinct. It’s all I can do to suck in one breath after another as my nails dig into the strange leather.

No normal horse should be able to run through the wilderness like this at night. Not safely.

“Look.”

The horse slows, and I dare to crack open my eyes. The forest has thinned dramatically, and through the sparse, thin trees, lights sparkle like a sheet of stars. My eyes adjust, and I gape at the structure before me. A castle stretches up, many stories high, into the night. But it’s not simply stone or wood. Plants grow and creep along the surface, and trees spring up from within. It’s like the legendary Hanging Gardens of Babylon on steroids.

“Virideria,” he says. “Seat of the King of the Forest and his court.”

“King of the Forest,” I whisper. Awe and wonder consume me. Riven once told me that he lived in the forest, but I always pictured a little, rustic cabin, simple but comfortable. This—Virideria—is beyond anything I imagined.

I crane my neck up as we approach, taking in the upper levels and the massive trees that seem to rise up from within. Either they have very complicated roofs or they don’t mind the rain. Given the plant life, I guess the latter.

I’m ogling the immense stone archway we’re approaching when Golden Tree’s words from earlier smack me like a brick to the face. “How did you know my name?”

“I guessed.” He says without the slightest delay or flinch. “Riven told Ambrose about you, and I overheard him.”

My cheeks flush. Riven talked to others about me, and I haven’t told a damn soul about him. “Um, who’s Ambrose?”

We draw near to the castle, close enough for me to see fae guards standing near the archway and the flickering lights—torches?—beyond.

“The Captain of the Guard.”

“You were eavesdropping on them?”

He moves in his seat but doesn’t answer. Maybe he really can’t lie.

The winded horse slows to a trot, a little foam gathering at its mouth. We pass the guards, who give my companion a brief nod, as if this is a normal occurrence. Ahead lies a tunnel of rock and roots lit by hovering balls of light. Not torches. Nor light bulbs. This is something else.

One guard whips around as we pass. I turn to find his attention on me. He’s saying something to the other guards, getting their attention. Walls mixed of hard-packed dirt, stone, and thick tree roots, some of which loop out at odd angles, wrap around us.

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