Page 60 of A Bargain with the Fae King

“Leaving so soon?” That voice steals every thought from my head.

I turn to find Sigurd striding from the foggy woods, his characteristic grin in place. The fog parts for him like the Red Sea for Moses.

Worse, he’s alone.

“Too bad, I’ve enjoyed the view around camp.” His smirk deepens.

Heat crawls up my neck, accompanied by icy dread climbing up my back.

Riven. Where is Riven?

Chapter 19

MyheartracesasI search the tree line for Riven.

He’s not there. He should be.

Where—

I jump as a strong arm encircles my waist.

“She’s not yours to toy with,” Riven says.

The heat of his body seeps into my back, easing away the chill of moments ago. Thank goodness. I relax into him, preferring his safety to the quandary approaching us.

“Unfortunately.” Sigurd brushes off his shoulder. “Doesn’t seem like she’s yours either though.”

Because I don’t bear Riven’s mark. The ground below my feet has never been so interesting.

“It’s disappointing.” Sigurd continues. “But her absence will give me more motivation to fix these wards so I can visit your city.”

Riven’s chest rumbles with a growl. His arms tighten around me. “Leave her alone, Sigurd.”

“Humans should be free to make their own choices, wouldn’t you say?” His tone shifts, turning just as hard and biting as Riven’s. “To choose who they want to spend time with. And who they don’t.”

“Exactly,” Riven snaps. “You should be familiar with being told to stay away.”

Ambrose swears. Magic sizzles in the air.

Shit. I can’t let things fall apart now, not because of me.

“It’s all right. I’m fine.” I run my hand along Riven’s arm in smooth, slow strokes, trying to calm him down. His jaw is set, teeth slightly bared. “I’m yours, remember?” It’s so easy to say, so right, despite the last two days. “There’s no need to worry. I’m going back to Arbrean.”

Riven’s face smooths out. He releases me as his mask of cocky arrogance snaps back into place. “You heard her.”

Sigurd’s grin fades. His thinned lips twitch, followed by his pointed ears. A more annoyed fae there has never been.

The other fae around us, who stopped to watch the verbal sparring match, start to leave.

It’s over. Finally, I can breathe again.

All of a sudden, Riven tilts my face to his and claims my mouth in a quick, unexpected kiss.

My body stiffens. My eyes fly wide.

He breaks away before the shock of his kiss has the chance to sink in. He strokes my cheek, my arm. It’s not the comforting touch I’m used to.

This is possessive, a show, just like that damn ball the first night I came to Faery.

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