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

Chapter 41

S omething rouses me from sleep. 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 at the 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!”

His eyes fly open, wide and glowing with that strange fae reaction to strong emotions .

“Mira.” He pants my name like a prayer, chest rising and falling as he pulls in one deep breath then another. Then his palms are on my hips, holding me close. His thumb rubs across his mark on my skin, and a shudder rolls through him as his eyes turn hooded and hungry. But then he flinches, and the look is gone, instead replaced by one of panic. “Something is wrong.”

“I know. I tried to wake you.” I slide off him and grab for my discarded blanket.

Modesty seems to be the last thing on Lysandir’s mind as he slips from the bed and rushes to the balcony railing. I hurry after him. He grips the railing so hard it cracks.

A fae curse slips from his lips. “The wards are failing. I feel it.”

“What?” I squeak. “How is that possible?

“I don’t know.” Lysandir whirls around. “We have to go. Quickly.”

No sooner have the words left his mouth than a plume of fire soars into the sky from the center of Calida. I gasp, frozen at the sight of flames stretching into the sky.

Lysandir whips his head back toward the pillar of fiery light. “We’re under attack.”

Any lingering warmth in my body falls away. Horror threatens to root me to the ground, but I force myself to hurry inside and search for my clothes. Lysandir is already shoving his feet into his pants.

“The Unseelie?” I ask, tugging my dress over my head.

“Most likely.”

Lysandir is there the moment I’m done, taking my hands in his, and I know we’re about to shift. But he stops and says, “I need to go to the city, and it may not be safe for you to stay here.”

“I’m coming with you.” There’s no way I’m getting left behind .

He doesn’t argue, just gives a short nod. “I’ll keep you safe, Mira.” His hands flex on mine. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not.” Not with his hands in mine. I know he’ll protect me. We’ve conquered fate and found a way to be together. No Unseelie is going to keep us apart. Not now.

“Good.”

And then we’re shifting, vanishing from our slice of paradise and into war.