Page 11 of Treasured By the Fae Royal
Her body is so enticingly soft against mine as she presses her stomach directly to my crotch that it takes great willpower not to become rock hard. Now is not the time and place for my pants to become tight.
“You are most welcome, sweetling,” I whisper into her ear, speaking low enough that her mother and aunt won’t overhear.
Another shudder passes through her, and her breath also catches in her throat, a lovely noise that makes me wonder what she would sound like in the throes of passion. Will I ever find out? Gods, I hope so.
Eventually, she withdraws from the embrace and regards me with a pretty flush covering her face. I allow my arms to drop away from her, but I don’t take a step back, and neither does she. The chatter of her mother and aunt falls into the background, and time seems to stop.
If we were alone right now, I’m certain I would kiss her.
“I know you aren’t requiring me to make a deal with you, Prince Lucas, but if there’s ever anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask. I feel as though I’m in your debt, and I am so very grateful for your assistance today. You’ve shown me a great deal of kindness, and for as long as I live, I’ll never forget it.”
She rises on her toes, takes hold of my shirt collar, and pulls me down so she can place a quick kiss to my cheek. My ears burn and heat pummels through me.
She’s too sweet. Too innocent.
I would be a monster if I tried to convince her to become my bride. She isn’t the type of human who’s cut out for a life among my people.
And yet… I still want her. I need her.
The idea of walking out of this cottage and never seeing her again fills me with an emptiness that makes my future without her seem desolate. When she smiles at me, it’s like the sun is shining directly overhead.
She takes a step back and tucks an errant strand of hair behind her ear, her demeanor shy and awkward. Another blush steals over her, and fuck if my pants don’t finally become tight.
“I will leave you to continue the reunion with your mother, sweetling,” I say in a strained voice.
Her face falls. “Oh. Are you headed back to your army? Or to the Summer Court?”
“No, not yet,” I reply before I can think better of it. “I am… exhausted from the events of today and from using so much of my magic, and I will require some rest before I can make the journey back to my army.” It’s not a total lie. Using magic does deplete my energy somewhat. But I must stall my departure if I’m to have more time with Yvette, and I need more time. I’m not ready to leave her side just yet.
Her face lights up, and she glances over her shoulder and says, “Hey, Mama and Aunt Heather, I’ll be right back.” She places a hand on my arm, guides me into the corridor, then shuts the door behind her. She leads me into a sitting room and points at a plush chair. “Why don’t you take a seat, and I’ll get you a drink.” She disappears into the kitchen and soon returns with a glass of water.
“Thank you, sweetling.” Why can’t I stop calling her that? The first time I uttered the endearment it was in a mocking way. But all the other times? All the other times, I’ve meant it.
“Are you hungry?” she asks. “Not to brag, but I’m an excellent cook. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted my chicken pot pie.” She holds up her hands before I can speak. “That’s it. I’ve decided. You’re staying for dinner and I’m making pot pie. It’s the least I can do to thank you for all you’ve done.”
CHAPTER5
YVETTE
My hands trembleas I quickly wash the dirt from the road off myself. After telling Prince Lucas that he must stay for dinner, I fled the sitting room before he could refuse and hurried to the bathroom so I might get cleaned up.
My heart skips a beat as I replay all the tender interactions we’ve shared today. The times he cupped my face and stroked my hair. The time he held me on his lap and healed my injuries. The time he gathered me close, had me wrap my arms around his neck and tuck my face into his chest, then flew me back to the cottage. That whole flight felt thrillingly intimate and like some kind of fever dream.
I take a brush to my hair and style my locks into a neat but attractive updo. I doubt he would find my chicken pot pie very impressive if he discovered one of my long dark hairs in it. I chuckle nervously as I give myself one last look in the mirror.
My dress is still rather clean, since my discarded cloak took the brunt of the dust from the road, so I decide to keep it on. Besides, if I go changing my whole outfit, Mama and Aunt Heather might suspect I’m sweet on the prince. After what happened to my uncle, Aunt Heather’s late husband, it feels like a betrayal for me to harbor even the smallest attraction to the prince, but I can’t help it. I like him. Very much.
I’m a practical sort of person though, despite the dreams I used to have when I was younger about traveling around the realm and exploring new places. I understand the reality of my situation, and Prince Lucas’s situation. Even if we were completely enamored with one another, a lasting relationship between us simply couldn’t happen.
Fae always have fated mates. If he’s not already mated to the fae female fated to him, he will meet that female one day. I try to ignore the jealousy that heats my blood when I imagine him with his mate, but it’s not easy. There really is something about him that calls to me.
I think about Mira’s mating union with Warden Valloc. From what Mira has told me about the fae, it is exceedingly rare for a fae to be fated to a full-blooded human. Mira, as it turns out, is part-fae herself, a fact she didn’t discover until recently when her powers began to surface.
Me, however? I’m most definitely not part-fae. I’ve been around areas containing high levels of ussha, as evidenced by the lush, glowing forests, and I haven’t experienced a sudden emergence of magic like my friend.
I depart the bathroom and start preparing dinner, and my thoughts soon become muddled. What am I doing? I shouldn’t have hugged the prince so tightly, nor should I have kissed his cheek or insisted he stay for dinner. He might believe I’m encouraging him to make advances on me. I flush at the very idea. If I’m to marry a nice man from Sorsston like Mama wants, I should probably remain pure. Would my future husband know if I’d slept with another male before? I’m not sure, but I don’t want to risk it.
Not that I’m giving serious thought to sleeping with Prince Lucas. Well, maybe a little thought. He’s so tall and handsome and kind.
