Page 8 of The Fae Kings' Bargain

Ria tried notto stare at the kings as they huddled against one another, but it was impossible. There was an intimacy between them that drew her, and her body burned at the sight of the High King nuzzling his face against King Mehl. She knew from experience how pleasant the latter’s hold felt. Being tucked between both of them would be beyond compare.

Focus, she ordered herself. Her arousal didn’t ease, but at least she was able to drag her gaze away from them. She should never have dared look in the first place. She was the part-human daughter of a tailor, not a fine lady or princess of a neighboring kingdom. They might need a breeding alliance, but she wouldn’t even rank on anIf We’re Desperatelist.

Movement caught her eye, but she tried not to glance at the kings again. Not that she had to. Energy surged toward her ahead of the advancing footsteps, a power so strong she caught her breath. It reminded her a little of the magic she used to create and add upon her father’s designs, but the force of this was far different. Nearly crushing.

By the time his shadow surrounded her, her hair practically stood on end from the charge, but she didn’t have to look to know that it was High King Toren. She’d noticed this very intensity growing around them since before the others had been dismissed. What was he going to do to her? Kill her where she stood? Cast her to some far-flung realm?

“Ria.”

His raspy whisper had her lifting her head despite her best intentions, and her gaze collided with the pale blue-gray of his almost instantly. Oh, now she’d done it. She lowered her eyelids, but his hand darted up to grip her chin. Gently, he tipped her head back until their eyes met once more.

“I am not a god to require such subservience,” High King Toren said softly. “You won’t be stricken down for a mere glance.”

Despite his reassurance, she wasn’t so sure. Not with the mad power trembling in his hand. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

His lips turned down in displeasure. “I must test you with my magic.”

Ria had no clue if he was upset with her response or what he had to do, but she didn’t feel confident enough to ask. There were more important things to discern. “Will it clear me of suspicion?”

“Yes. If you are innocent.” His hand trembled harder against her chin, and her skin tingled as his magic licked against her. He was losing control. “Can’t… Must…”

King Mehl stepped to Toren’s side. “I will see that you are safe, Lady Ria.”

She opened her mouth to refute the title, but before she could utter a sound, the High King’s power roared through her. Instantly, her vision went white as though she’d been sunblinded, and her muscles convulsed from the shock. Her legs went soft beneath her. She might have fallen if not for the strong arms that wrapped around her waist.

But there wasn't any pain. Gods, no. Anything but. Her body burned with pleasure, and hope, and life, and light. Her magic rose within her chest and poured into her hands until she was sure she could have created an entire wardrobe for the spoiled prince of Tenzick with little more than a wave.

Then the connection deepened—or perhaps became clearer. She brushed against something else, something beyond power. It was him. Them? A few thoughts flickered. A man’s image, cruel and sneering. A hint of worry and fear. Protectiveness. She reached out without thought, her intent to soothe.

Then the power cut off, so abruptly she wanted to weep at the loss.

Her vision cleared, and her surroundings reformed around her. Ria stared at her hand against the High King’s chest for a moment before she abruptly jerked away. But that only made her aware of the hard body at her back, the support that could only be King Mehl.

“I’m sorry,” Ria gasped.

“She is innocent,” High King Toren said through gritted teeth, his eyes on his husband rather than her. “There is much to talk about. Alone.”

Ria straightened, and King Mehl let her go. “I didn’t mean to touch you. My magic prompted me—”

“I am not angered by your actions.” She wouldn’t claim the High King relaxed, but some of his harshness smoothed. “And unlike your father, you are now free. You will be granted his business, properties, and other assets in return for the pain you have suffered.”

“Toren…” King Mehl began, a strange note to his tone.

“I have decided. Unless you would like to argue now, husband dearest?”

“No,” the king bit out. “But we will discuss this later.”

High King Toren inclined his head. “As I have already suggested.”

She should have been relieved that they were letting her go, but after the touch of his magic, a hard lump of sadness settled in her chest. Something had happened here that she couldn’t explain. A connection in that soul-shaking moment. But they were the kings of Llyalia, and she was a tailor’s daughter.

Although now Ria supposedshewas the tailor.

Before she knew it, the High King summoned his servants, a couple of guards, and a scribe to record his decree. He even had the healer cure her injuries while he spoke to the scribe. Despite all he did, it felt like only moments before she was being ushered kindly but firmly from the palace and back to the home where she’d been raised. It was almost too much to process.

Ria dropped her newly returned basket beside the fireplace and sank down into a chair. She couldn’t have said which one. Her mind was too busy racing through all that had happened that day.

Again and again.

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