Page 27 of Forgiving a Fae Warrior

A deep, gasping sigh whooshed from Galen’s lungs, and he sagged toward the ground. “Thank you. Whatever fate befalls me, thank you for sparing her.” She would be safe. Sylvie would be spared. Whatever punishment awaited him, he could endure it knowing that.

Riven leaned against the front edge of the desk and crossed his arms as he stared at Galen down the length of his nose. “You stole Sigurd’s consort to atone for stealing mine and to prove your loyalty to my court.”

“I did,” Galen confessed.

“You didn’t consider that might cause more problems for us?” Riven raised one fair brow.

“I should have, but I was desperate.” So painfully desperate. And didn’t that make fools of even the smartest among them? “I saw an opportunity to return to the Court of the Forest and to prove my loyalty.”

“To whom?”

“To you.” Galen swallowed. “And to Sylvie. She had to know that I didn’t want to betray you or leave her. I love her,” he said, surprised at how easily the confession flowed off his tongue now. “I had to see her again, even if just one last time. I had to make sure she knew.”

Riven pushed off the desk. “I don’t like the method of it, nor did Sigurd. Had the Unseelie not interfered, we might have a war on our hands.” He paused, the silence painful. “But as it stands now, we have a tentative alliance.”

Galen sucked in a breath. An alliance? It was more than could be hoped for between courts with so many years of animosity between them.

“Sometimes our worst mistakes can take a positive turn,” the king continued. “Though Sigurd’s mate, Wren, asked a favor of me before she left with the Court of Air.”

Just the sound of her name had his shoulders hunching further. He’d risked her life, betrayed her trust. Whatever friendship he’d found was long gone.

“Do you wish to know what it was?” Riven asked.

“Yes, my king,” Galen replied, barely a whisper. He needed to know as much as he dreaded the answer.

“Then rise.”

On shaking legs that still ached from battle, Galen pushed to his feet, squared his shoulders, and met his king’s steady gaze.

“She asked for mercy for you. For her friend who loved the Forest and did not mean to harm her.”

Galen’s mouth dropped open as the words echoed themselves over and over in his mind.Mercy. Friend.Tears stung the corners of his eyes, and he hastily blinked them away.

For the first time since he entered the room, a soft smile broke across the king’s face, reminding Galen not of the monarch he’d served but the man he’d come to know and respect—Riven’s true self beyond the guise of the imperious monarch he often donned for the court. “Anyone who can befriend the future queens of two Seelie Courts would be a valuable ally, especially one who is willing to risk exile to prove their loyalty and love.”

The tiny spark of hope Galen had held tightly protected in his heart swelled in a rush, pushing out against his chest and filling him up from within. A tingling that had nothing to do with magic rushed under his skin as he stared at Riven with barely concealed wonder. “You mean…”

Riven nodded, his grin widening. “Welcome back to the Court of the Forest and my elite guard, Galen Lightstrider.”

Chapter 15

Sylvie

Sylviepacedoutsidetheking’s office, striding back and forth across the same wavy line on the rug that she stared at, all her thoughts with Galen beyond the closed doors. They wouldn’t exile him again, right? Not after he tried to save Wren at great risk to himself. Or worse, they wouldn’t— She shook her head, refusing to let her thoughts wander in such a dark direction. Sylvie nibbled on the edge of one nail before flinging her hand down to her side and chastising herself for the dozenth time about the bad habit. It didn’t help that her nails were filthy.

Another glance at Ambrose and Solona, where they stood near the office doors, didn’t help her mood. The two—frequently jovial and pleasant—kept their features carefully locked down, sharing furtive glances between one another, which held a multitude of things Sylvie couldn’t discern. Neither would fully look at her nor answer her questions about what transpired beyond. Sylvie huffed in their direction and resumed her pacing. Some friends they were, keeping her in the dark on this of all things. They’dneverdone that before.

But then, she’d never aided and bedded a traitor before.

Sylvie sighed and slammed herself down in a chair.

He loved her. Damn it. If only it hadn’t taken betrayal, exile, and nearly starting a war for him to confess and finally realize how much she loved him too.

But then, maybe if she’d just been a little bit braver, she could have told him before all of this mess and perhaps prevented some of it. Courage had never been an issue. She went after everything in life with gusto and often got it, too. Difficulty? Failure? Just more challenges to be overcome, and she loved a good challenge. There was little that got her quite so excited…except perhaps a certain male.

Sylvie rubbed her palm over the section of her clothing hiding her mark—not that her attire did anything to hide the magic of it, which she knew Ambrose, Solona, and Riven had certainly felt. Probably many others, too, once they’d shifted back to the capital.

Galen loved her. He had loved her for years as she’d loved him. Who fell first? Someday, hopefully, she’d get to ask him.

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