Destined for the Fae King (Courts of Faery #3)

Chapter 29

I ’ve spent the past two days looking over my shoulder—and everywhere else—hoping for a glimpse of Lysandir. It’s impossible not to worry that he might be ignoring me and that the revelation about being his fated mate was some kind of fever dream brought on by too much faery wine. Doubts eat at me, hammering away at every corner of my self-esteem.

In all my imaginings, I really thought I’d have seen him by now, but nothing. I know he was busy with the other courts, which is the same reason we haven’t seen the king since the ball, but still.

I sigh, glancing around at the assembled mass of women and fae where we stand on dew-soaked grass at the edge of the forest. The sun has barely risen, and more than one of companions look asleep on their feet.

“They couldn’t bring us coffee?” Grace groans, rubbing her eyes.

It’s time for the king’s hunt, and apparently those start early. Like, before breakfast early. Not that I’d want to tromp around in the woods on a full stomach, but doing it on an empty one isn’t any more appealing .

If there’s one thing I know about Vasilius, it’s his love of the hunt. I’ve heard enough stories about it during our dates. A few days ago, he announced we’d join him on one. Since so many of us shared our passions with him, he wants to share his with us. It makes sense from his perspective, though I’m not sure any of us are very excited for the outing.

“There’ll be refreshments later,” Adeline reminds her. She’s entirely too chipper this morning. Probably because her guard is nearby. I’ve caught more than one longing glance between them already. How does no one else notice?

I stretch on my toes, trying to see above those around us. The king isn’t here yet, but some of his advisors are. Apparently as soon as he arrives, we’ll be ready to go, which means no Lysandir unless he shows up soon.

“Is everything alright?” someone asks.

I jolt at the sudden question as Bailey comes to stand beside me. She’s the picture of calm elegance and looks so natural, with her hair braided back, a quiver of arrows on her back, and a bow in hand. So unlike the rest of us, who look like bad cosplayers. Katherine nearly stabbed herself with an arrow and looked at the bow like a mixed up Rubik’s Cube. Zoe outright refused the bow and arrows, saying that she could never hurt an animal, so why bother. In fact, she protested the whole event pretty hard. Her vegan lifestyle and love for animals really could lead to marital problems if she’s picked, since the king has expressed his great love for hunting the wild beasts of Faery. Not that it’s stopped her from trying to win his hand.

“Um, yeah, I’m fine,” I say.

“You’ve just seemed on edge lately,” Bailey replies .

“I guess the other courts being around the past few days and all the recent talk of Unseelie has left me a little unsettled. That’s all.” I shrug.

Bailey offers a comforting smile. “We’re safe here. The Court of Fire is strong, and the king won’t let anything happen to us.”

The pure admiration and respect shining in her eyes is sweet enough to hurt. She has no idea that the king really isn’t into humans. It’s a little painful to watch, but breaking her illusion would be even worse. Besides, if anyone has a shot at truly earning his love and respect in return, it seems to be her, and I want that for her; I really do. The sooner Vasilius sees that and picks her, the sooner the rest of us can move on.

Maybe I can help it along, give the king the little shove in her direction that he needs. Could changing fate be so simple?

“Mira?” Bailey’s head cocks to the side.

“Yes, you’re right,” I reply, coming back to the moment. “Of course there’s no need to worry. I’ll try to relax.”

“Good, I think Vasilius would be sad if he thought we doubted him.”

Oh good lord, she has it bad. I force myself to smile at her in return. Either I’m good at keeping my thoughts from my face, or she chooses to ignore them. Either way, I’m relieved when magic tingles across my skin and I see additional figures appear out of the corner of my eye.

The king, I expected, but my heart skips a beat at the sight of Lysandir next to him. He came.

I doubt I’ll get to spend much time with him today. I’m not that lucky, but seeing him is reassuring nonetheless, even more so when his searching gaze lands on me and holds, a small smile lifting at the corners of his lips. That’s all it takes. A tiny twitch of muscle and my worries are vanquished .

What a simple mess he’s made me.

We’re divided up into small groups, each of us women with a guard in case we should wound the creature and be unable to finish it off. Or we hurt ourselves. No one says the latter, but it’s obvious. The king joins Alex, much to her apparent shock, though he promises to shift around and spend time with as many of us as he can. The same is said about Lysandir, who joins Grace, and the two advisors joining us Memnon and Avara, who pair with Bailey and Cora and their guards to start. It’s both a relief and letdown not to be with Lysandir, though it would likely be suspicious if he’d picked me.

As it is, it’ll be just me and Tharin, of course. The hard look he’s given me all morning says he’d rather be with anyone else, but I have a feeling Lysandir has probably ordered him to keep an eye on me.

Today, we’re hunting a deer-like creature said to have a blazing crimson coat. Such a thing would stand out in a normal forest, but here where many of the trees have bright hued trunks and leaves and several glow with an unearthly fire, it should blend right in.

We’ll be lucky if any of us can hit a tree trunk, much less some poor creature. The honor of winning the hunt will most likely go to whichever of us is with the king when he inevitably makes the kill. Scouts have already located the unknowing victim and will be shifting us to various points around its location. All we really have to do is follow our guards, stay relatively quiet, and see if we spot the creature before it catches wind of us and flees.

The sun is still rising by the time we’re shifted to our starting locations. Tharin and I end up in a pretty flat and peaceful section of forest with limited undergrowth. The cool, crisp breeze is a welcome companion, as are the various pleasant bird calls and occasional hum of an insect. By some miracle of Faery, there are no mosquitos in this world, which already makes being in the woods a million times better than back home.

If Tharin has any idea where the beast is, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he’s content to follow behind me as I wander aimlessly through the woods, soaking in the sights and sounds of nature. He’s quiet enough that I might think him gone if not for the heavy weight of his scowl that’s impossible to escape. I don’t hear or spy anyone else, which either means I’m going in the absolute wrong direction or we’re further apart than expected. It doesn’t take long for boredom to set in, and I start humming a soft tune for lack of anything else to do while I wander.

“You’re going to scare it off before we ever get close,” Tharin says.

I halt, glancing back over one shoulder. He’s stopped about ten feet behind me, arms crossed over his chest.

“There’s zero chance of me killing it with this any way.” I tap the bow slung over my shoulder. It’s surprisingly light for its size. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it a toy made for kids.

“At least we agree on that.”

“Ugh.” I roll my eyes. “You really hate me, don’t you?”

“No.” He drops his arms with a sigh. “I don’t hate you, Mira.”

“But you don’t like me.” That’s obvious enough.

He shakes his head and walks my way. “I don’t dislike you either.”

“Really?” I arch one brow. I know he can’t lie, but his attitude sure fools me.

Tharin stops beside me. “My first duty is always to the prince, and since your arrival, you’ve complicated that.”

That’s true enough. “Because you’re guarding me and not him? ”

“No.” He rubs his jaw. “It’s safe enough in the court, and the prince is a capable male anyway. But I’d be a terrible guard if I didn’t keep him safe from his own inclinations.”

The way he looks me head to toe speaks volumes.

Warmth creeps up my neck and rushes to my cheeks, forcing me to look away. “You sent Fia the other night, when he was in my room.”

“I did.”

The smugness of his tone makes me grit my teeth.

Tharin grabs my arm, and I gasp. He holds it up, the king’s bond mark inches from my face.

“Don’t forget this,” he says. “While you bear it, you are pledged as a potential bride to the king. His and his alone until he releases you.” He gently shakes my arm in emphasis. “To be with anyone else is treason.”

“And after?”

“If the prince’s vision comes true, you’ll be more dangerous to him than ever.” His lip curls, and he drops my arm like a sack of garbage.

“Why? The king isn’t interested in humans. Maybe he’d be happy for his brother and me to be together. One less obligation for him.”

“You’re a fool if you truly think that.” The utter disappointment in his appraisal makes me flinch. “To be bonded to a human is power. That he hasn’t bonded a human before now for that alone is mind-boggling.” He leans in closer, nearly right in my face. “Vasilius likes power. He enjoys being king. And more than anything else, he does not like to share.”

My hands clench into fists. I notch my chin higher in challenge, but Tharin just turns and walks away .

“Then the vision must be wrong,” I call after him. “Or there must be a way to change it. I’m already not the king’s favorite, and I have no desire to change that. You’ve seen enough of this competition. Surely you agree. He won’t pick me”

Tharin halts. Turns. “You’re correct that the king appears to favor Lady Bailey. His advisors have approved her as well.”

I suck in a sharp breath. Approved her? As in, this competition may be nearing its end?

He shakes his head. “I see that hope in your eyes. Squash it. For Lysandir, if not yourself. The prince’s visions have never been wrong. I won’t believe otherwise until the king is wed to someone else and you share a mating bond with the prince.”

Two things he seems certain will never happen.

“When both of those things come true, I’ll have your apology,” I say, refusing to let him have the last word.

“ If those things ever come true, I’ll give it gladly.” His expression softens. “Lysandir is my prince, but he is also my friend.” He pauses, letting the statement sink in. “I want his happiness as much as my own. More, perhaps. If you could bring him the joy he seeks, the companionship without the risk of betrayal and treason, I would welcome it with my whole heart.”

A knot forms in my throat, and I swallow it down, along with the bitter spew of words I’d been forming only moments ago.

Instead, I simply nod in acknowledgement. He returns the gesture.

The tension between us has lightened as we continue our trek through the woods. Anything near us is long gone after our heated debate.

We don’t make it far before a pained bellow echoes from the distance. The utter agony in the sound, the way it reverberates through my body, raises the fine hairs on the back of my neck. The birds of the forest go eerily quiet. Tharin pulls his sword from where it’s strapped along his back and turns in place, assessing for danger.

I reach for my bow, for any weapon. “What was—”

The sound comes again, this time from a new direction. Closer. Through a break in the tree canopy, I spy something soaring up into the sky. My chest empties out as recognition sinks in.

Fire.

A pillar of fire soars toward the clouds.

I gasp and jolt as Tharin grabs hold of my arm. He tugs me close until I’m practically plastered against his body. His sword is out in front of us, a shield against some unknown foe.

“What is happening?” I implore.

I barely register the tingle of magic across my skin before Tharin jerks me behind him.

“Mira!”

My heart leaps. “Lysandir!”

At the arrival of his prince, Tharin releases me.

I run to Lysandir, but he’s already there, pulling me into his arms. Strong fingers weave through my hair and cup the back of my head, and he holds me against his chest, cradling me like a lost child.

“You’re okay. You’re fine.” His palm skim down my back and across my side.

I lean my head back just enough to look up at Lysandir. His eyes are wide and panicked. His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths like he’s just run a marathon.

“What’s happening?” I all but beg.

“I don’t know,” he admits. The edge of a quaver lingers in his voice. He shifts his attention to Tharin. “Take her to my mother at the pavilion. ”

“What?” I gape as he pulls away.

It’s trouble. Or something horrible. Both. I don’t know. All I know is being apart from Lysandir in this moment feels like the worst possible outcome.

I reach for him. “I don’t—”

But Tharin is already there. I barely have the chance to register him taking my hand before the world melts away and suddenly we’re standing under a large, open pavilion consumed by frantic whispers and rushing bodies.

“What’s happened?” Elaine is on her feet, inching her way toward Tharin the moment we appear.

Nearby, more guards materialize with Adeline and Cora.

“I do not know,” Tharin replies to the dowager. “There was a cry I believe to be the king’s, followed by a another and a pillar of fire.”

I nearly choke on a gasp. “The king?” I stammer. “Is he hurt?”

But no one is paying me any attention.

More magic rushes over my skin. Katherine and Zoe are back now, asking the same questions as the rest of us. Lysandir reappears with Grace in tow. There’s barely time for relief that he’s back when he orders, “Get my mother and the women inside. Keep them safe.”

The last of his command still rings in the air when he vanishes again.

“Tharin?” I turn to him, but his attention is focused on Elaine.

“Bring us to the royal wing,” she orders nearby guards. The way she so calmly assumes command would impress even a hardened general. “We’ll stay in my quarters. They’re heavily warded. It should be safe there.”

Tharin finally glances at me, face set with hardened focus. “You heard her.”

He takes my hand, and we’re moving again.