Page 108 of Destined for the Fae King

The pronouncement threatens to steal all my warmth. “So close.”

It makes sense. It’s why we came here after all, but I hadn’t realized exactly how close it was.

Lysandir wraps his arms around me, pulling my back against his chest and placing his chin atop my head. “You mine, and I will keep you safe, no matter what comes.”

“I know.” I place my hand over his and lean back against him. Despite the grim reminder on the horizon, I could stay like thisforever. Maybe the king will let us, at least until he chooses his queen and Lysandir and I can be more open with our relationship.

We’re marked now. It’s not just a visible symbol on our skin—any fae will feel it and know our connection.

Between the warmth of the male at my back and the languidness in my limbs from my release, I’m so relaxed that I let out an embarrassingly large yawn. Lysandir chuckles. He adjusts his stance, and I feel the press of his renewed erection at my lower back.

He leans in, his breath ghosting across my ear and raising goosebumps on my skin. “I hope you’re not too tired, little mate, because I’m not done with you. Not nearly.”

Any lingering sleepiness vanishes instantly. A few touches, some whispered words, and I’m a ball of aching need once more.

Lysandir frees me from the embrace of his arms and stalks around until he’s the only majestic view in front of me. He grabs my blanket and gives it a solid tug. I let it fall.

He holds out a hand to me.

“Well?” He raises his brows in question, his grin devastating.

I take his hand and let him lead me back to bed.

Chapter 41

Something rouses me fromsleep. I blink, coming back to the world, conscious of the warm body I’m snuggled up against.

Lysandir.

Memories flood back, bringing a smile to my face. I’m tucked up against his side under the sheets, and just the sight of him there—mine and with me—makes desire spark anew deep in my core. I push my hair back and sit up. He’s still asleep, hair splayed over the pillow. Though his brow is pinched, his chest rising and falling like some nightmare has him in its thrall. How many horrors has he witnessed in all his years? Plenty recently, to be sure.

It’s tempting to wake him and resume our earlier activities, but I know he needs his rest. It’s doubtful he got much the night before or for several nights before that either, traipsing after his brother through Unseelie lands.

The world outside is still completely dark, showing no signs of dawn. I consider lying back down, snuggling up against his side, and finding rest once more. Goodness knows I need it too. But a sudden glimmer in the distance snares my attention.

I slip from bed as quietly as I can. Cool night air tickles my skin and raises gooseflesh along it. I grab a blanket from the bench atthe foot of the bed and pull it around myself before moving to the railing and looking out at the valley in the distance. Dim light emanates from the Calida. There’s a soft spot of glow here and there around it as well, likely more buildings or homes.

Far beyond the city, the sparkling comes again, stretching from some point near the horizon into the sky. It’s strange and beautiful all at once. The glimmer sparkles again, but this time, it doesn’t fade. Instead, it appears to widen, peeling back like the flaps of a tent. I squint at the distant light. What could it be? Lysandir hadn’t mentioned anything that way, nothing but—

The sudden realization leaves me cold.

Nothing but Unseelie territory. The Shadow Lands.

Closer by, in the city, I’d swear more lights have illuminated, like the city is waking up, but still dawn shows no sign of being near.

The wrongness of it all has me shuffling back to the bed. Lysandir’s head tosses to the side, and for a moment, I think he’s awake. But his eyes are still pinched tight.

“Lysandir.” I lay a hand on his shoulder, finding it warmer than I recall. “Lysandir.” I give him a little shake.

He grips the sheets over his chest in a tight fist. His head thrashes again.

My worry spikes as I try to shake him awake.

Something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

His whole body jerks like he’s fighting some enemy in his sleep. But whatever has him in its thrall won’t let him free.

I drop my blanket and climb atop him in the bed. He twists, his body jerking in some fit, and I fear he’s about to topple me to the floor. “Lysandir!”

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