King of Always: A Fae Romance (Black Blood Fae Book 2)
King of Always: Chapter 5

Isla

“So what do you think? Are you regretting your reckless decision to follow us here yet?” asks Lara, bouncing cute baby Merri in her arms as we enter the Great Hall via one of the castle’s maze-like internal staircases.

To be clear, Merri isn’t a proper baby. Being half-fae, appearances are deceiving, and she looks more like a two-year-old human child than her actual age, which is only nine months. As Ever would have me believe, Fae don’t spend very long as helpless babes. It’s a survival thing because Faery can be such a dangerous place—as he and Lara keep reminding me. Over and over and over.

Of course, the bizarre creatures gathered in the spectacular Great Hall make me feel a little nervous, but I force a relaxed grin as I turn to Lara. “I followed you into a supernatural realm, that’s all. Stop going on about it as if I murdered someone.”

She sighs and adjusts the delicate shoulder strap of another petal-soft faery gown. This one is a dreamy mix of mint green and rosy pink colors that offsets her crimson locks to perfection. My dress is made up of layered strips of different hues of silky red fabric—the rust of dried blood, juice from a blood orange, and bright slashes that resemble freshly cut wounds—a gruesome yet beautiful blend of colors.

“It’s not you murdering anyone that I’m worried about,” Lara says. “It’s the other way around. Open your eyes and look closely at these people, Isla. This is not a safe place for humans with no magic.”

“Isn’t it? Oh, gosh, if only someone had thought to mention that to me about five trillion times, I might have stayed home cowering in my room. Oh, wait…you already did.”

She whacks my shoulder. “Be serious. Elemental fae are Seelie; they’re kind of like the good guys or the lesser of two evils. Just make sure you never cross paths with the Folk of the Unseelie court. If you meet one, run fast. Very. Fast. Okay?”

My gaze sweeps over soaring emerald columns that support the vaulted-glass ceiling before landing on the shining throne set upon a lavishly decorated dais. All around me, hundreds of fae—strange and beautiful creatures every one—whisper and cackle, presided over by the pale white queen on her throne of translucent crystal wands.

Earlier, during the set-up of the feast, Lara led me around the hall, introducing me to a few faeries, most of them servants, as a way to acclimatize me to the grandeur of the hall and the strangeness of the castle’s people. I’m glad she did, but nothing could have prepared me for the sight of the queen and her attendants.

A row of stony-eyed advisers hover behind Queen Varenus, and on her left sits Prince Ever, looking awesome dressed in black and silver, smiling as he talks to her. The queen’s face is a barely moving mask of frigid, ethereal beauty, framed by sheets of white hair that fall like rippling water to her sparkling slippers.

The wooden throne on her right is empty, and my gaze fixes on the carved sunflowers, scorpions, and thorns adorning its surface. Fire symbols—just like the type I usually decorate my favorite cakes with—in bright red and orange frosting.

Lara takes my arm, and we walk down a long central aisle of green marble, edged by tables filled with cavorting fae who turn to watch us as we move slowly toward the dais. And the beautiful, creepy queen.

“The fae can’t be all that bad,” I whisper out of the side of my mouth. “You married one. And then named your baby after the creek where he first stumbled upon you.”

A smile on her lips, her green eyes glaze over as she loses herself in, no doubt, disgustingly romantic memories—which I decide to ruin. “The creek where Ever, on first sight, mistook you for a troll and then a goblin, before finally deciding you reminded him of a freckled wasp. Charming creature, your husband.”

Pursing her lips, she says, “What can I say? Our love isn’t a shallow thing based on looks alone.”

Merri gurgles and reaches out to grab a chunk of my hair in her chubby little fist.

“Hey, give that back,” I say untangling my blonde locks. “Lucky you’re so cute, you little imp.”

And she is adorable—with blood red hair and eyes so silver that gazing into them is like falling into those mesmerizing mirrors at a fun park. Her ears are already pointier than her dad’s, and she sports the cheekiest grin. That unbridled, sassy smile of Merri’s is a gift from her mom, and it turns Ever, once the cruel prince of Talamh Cúig, into a besotted fool.

It’s sweet. And, yeah, I’m a little jealous of their happy family unit, even if two of them aren’t the same species as me.

The queen drags pale fingers, the tips sharp like blue-tapered talons, through the air, beckoning us forward.

“Oh, shit.” I nod toward the dais. “I think your scary mother-in-law wants us to walk faster.”

“No matter what she says or does, do not show fear,” Lara whispers, stopping in front of the lineup of regally dressed fae. “And, for the love of pizza, no swearing! Think of them as evil little children. Use words appropriate for Merri.”

I pull an ugly face at her. “Yes, Mom. I’ll do my best.”

The faeries’ eyes glow like torchlights, offsetting their fantastical outfits made of cobweb-thin materials—barks and leaves and flowers—their heads crowned with metal circlets studded with gemstones. Their look is a potent mix of power and whimsy combined with an unnerving, unnatural beauty.

Silence settles over the room as Lara bows her head and makes a deep curtsy. A second too late, I do the same, wobbling a little despite the meeting-royalty practice drill Lara and her best fae-friend, Magret, subjected me to earlier in her rooms.

Magret has the most incredible velvety antlers that, much like a dog’s tail, quiver with emotion. They’re fascinating, and it’s a trial not to stare at them when I’m with her. I hope I get to sit next to her tonight. If I ask politely, she might let me touch them.

“Good evening, Queen Varenus,” Lara says at the exact moment a commotion ripples through the crowd.

“Ah, finally, my Rafael arrives.” The queen’s voice is crisp and resonates with power. The pale-blue gown she wears ripples like a river with each slow movement of her elegant arms.

A tall fae dressed in black, highlighted by rich, fiery reds similar to the ones on my dress, steps onto the dais and bows before kissing her jeweled fingers. It’s the famous Raff, the cursed fire prince of Talamh Cúig.

My heart pounding, I watch his warrior’s frame fold with surprising grace into the sunflower-emblazoned throne on his mother’s right. His brother, Ever, is a vision of silver and gold. Raff is golden too, but darker, his hair lit with every shade of tawny summer. Dark coal. Flickering flames. Hot—in every sense of the word.

Instead of checking out the room, he’s looking down at his goblet of wine. I wonder what color his eyes are. Silent, his dark head lolls indolently against his chair, a silver circlet embedded with a golden sunstone slipping down his brow.

“Lara’s cousin has honored our court with a surprise visit,” the queen tells him as Lara pulls me forward. Closer to the fire prince.

He stifles a yawn. “Yes, just what our court needs—another human,” he says in a deep voice. “Kian has already apprised me of the fascinating news.”

So similar to Ever, this prince is arrogant and sarcastic, but humorless and dour, which makes him much worse than his brother.

Finally, his gaze tracks over the sea of twitching, tittering fae, and then…and then he looks at me.

Amber.

His eyes are wild and intense—sparks of yellow and gold swirling through a background of burning amber.

Wolf’s eyes.

His lips part, and he takes a breath as if to speak but says nothing. His gaze flicks over my body, head to toe and back up again. He blinks twice, for some reason, speechless.

“Raff, Queen Varenus,” says Ever, offering me a dimpled smile. “This is Isla Delaney of Blackbrook, my wife’s cousin.”

The queen inclines her head slowly. Raff keeps staring.

Ever clears his throat, frowning at his brother. “Isla, this is my brother, Prince Rafael Leon Fionbharr, the fourteenth Black Blood heir to the Throne of Five. And my mother, Queen Varenus, Empress of the Land of Five, Sovereign of the Five Elements and Ruler of the Seas of All Time.”

The queen nods. “Welcome to our city of Talamh Cúig. May the time you spend here with us be of value to all.”

That’s an unnervingly strange greeting. “Thank you,” I say, dipping another ridiculous curtsy.

“Despite your first chamber being a cell, your visit is off to a far more auspicious start than Lara’s. Her initial audience with the crown was in the guise of my son’s bedraggled captive.” She smiles, silver eyes burning right through to the back of my skull. “And now look at your cousin—married to fae royalty. I wonder what will become of you?”

That sounds vaguely like a threat.

My gaze flicks to the Prince of Fire. I’m interested to hear what he has to say on the matter. But he doesn’t greet me. And he doesn’t even smile.

“Raff?” Ever growls. “Since when have basic civilities been a chore for you? Please pay your regards to my wife’s cousin.”

The tawny prince lets three beats pass in silence, defying his older brother’s wishes. As the heir, I guess he feels comfortable doing that. Most people immediately do whatever Ever suggests—even my boss, Max.

Then with Raff’s strange eyes locked on mine, he says, “Welcome to our kingdom, Isla of Blackbrook, cousin of Lara, now mortal-wedded to my brother, the Prince of Air.” Amber jewels flash on his fingers as he taps them on the carved-lion armrest. “My mother has said it is your first time in our land, but I do not believe this is the case. I cannot name the time or the place, but I am certain we have met before.”

What the…? What is this guy playing at?

“You lying dii…” Gasps hiss through the air. Quick, think of Merri-appropriate words. “…dung bucket. I’ve never been to Faery before! Why would you say that I have?”

Snickers erupt in the crowd, and the fire prince narrows his eyes, cracking his knuckles loudly. I’m not brave enough to look at the queen and see what she’s doing. Or Lara. Damn my fiery temper. It’s always getting me into trouble. I hope one day I can learn to control it.

“You know he cannot lie, Isla,” says Ever, looking disappointed in me. “So it follows that if my brother says he has met you before, then he speaks the truth. Or at the very least must believe whole-heartedly in the veracity of his own words. Have you infiltrated our lands on another occasion?”

Lara laughs. “Ever, you make her sound like some kind of covert spy up to no good. Before I returned from Faery, she had no idea it even existed, or that beings like you existed. And you lived with us in the mortal world for a year and a half. You ate Cheerios for breakfast with her nearly every day. She hasn’t a devious bone in her body. Plenty of reckless ones though.”

“Of course Isla is good. I wasn’t meaning to suggest she came here intentionally. On occasion, humans have been known to fall into our lands by accident.” His mercurial gaze drifts off to the side, a dreamy expression on his face. “I do miss the human breakfasts made of sugar. They were very enjoyable.”

“And I find myself bored by human prattle,” states the queen. “Isla, do join us at our table for the meal. Sit next to your cousin.” She points to the farthest seat on her right. “And, Lara, bring my granddaughter to my lap. She will eat with me.”

Lara says, “In a minute. Merri wants a cuddle from her father first.”

While Merri bounces in Ever’s lap, servants carry out a long gold-lacquered table and place it in front of the royal family. Dishes appear, served by creatures with rainbow-colored skin, their hair long twisted spikes of green that remind me of punk-style shield maidens.

The queen claps her hands and silver moths explode between them, tumbling onto her plate. “To the Elements Five that have returned my son and his family from the human realm, bless us with food, nurture our magic, and sharpen our wits and pleasures, we pay our debts in kind. Tonight, we do so with power.”

Her white head swivels my way, a mocking smile fixed on her face. She holds her wrist high, purple veins on display as the sleeve of her gown falls away. With a slash of her blue nail across translucent skin, dark blood flows down her arm, dripping onto her plate of delicacies, drowning the flailing moths.

Gross.

“Eat,” she says, before tucking into her disgusting meal.

In some countries back home, blood pudding is a popular meal, but seasoning food from your own veins is taking culinary daring a little too far. Still, everyone obeys her command and starts eating their non-blood drenched meals, including me—even though I feel pretty queasy.

Laughing at my pinched expression, Ever transfers Merri to the queen’s lap—the poor kid—and I try to hold a reasonably sane conversation with him and Lara. Despite my best efforts, I regularly lose track of my thoughts as I gape at the squealing, screeching, raucous Fair Folk feasting below the dais.

Varenus entertains her granddaughter, iridescent green and blue butterflies bursting into the air every time she claps, making Merri giggle as she tries to capture them.

I turn and watch the queen’s green-skinned consort, Lord Stavros, play with his waist-length plait, then lean and taste her blood sauce with his bony finger, black eyes gleaming in a thin angular face. He looks like a ghoul.

I also glance frequently at the sullen fire prince picking at his food. I don’t know why I’m so fascinated. I hate to judge so soon, but I’m already fairly sure I don’t like him. Maybe the curse gives him a special magnetism. A compelling charisma. That might explain why my attention flicks his way so often.

Or it could be the heat in his horrible, beautiful eyes, the sizzling current of banked power that calls to my pyromaniac’s obsession with all things fire. He burns with it.

I’ve always loved the danger of flames, the thrill of being burnt. I’m not an idiot, though. I’m talking about a tiny lick. A hiss, a little kiss of fire. Nothing demented. Nothing like me getting close to Raff to test the caliber of his heat; that would be dangerous. That would be insanity.

When the main course, a richly flavored stew, is cleared away, the queen calls for dancing, and the musicians in the far corner pick up their instruments.

Prince Rafael stands and squares his broad shoulders, gaze intent on the stairs off to the side of the dais.

“Fleeing so soon, Rafael?” asks his mother.

His shoulders drop a fraction, then he turns to her. “Ever and I plan to hunt draygonets tomorrow at dawn. I have bowstrings to wax and blades to sharpen.”

“Leave that lowly task to the armorers and please your mother instead. I wish to see you dance.”

“Dance?” he barks. “I am afraid no one would find that pleasing, Mother, least of all you.”

“You do it well enough when you set your mind to it,” she insists. “You used to love to dance, and it would amuse me to see you open the set with the little human.”

“It is Ever’s duty to dance with Lara—she’s his wedded wife, not mine.”

“Ever and Lara’s vows made in the mortal realm count for naught here in Faery, but that is a discussion for another day. I meant the new human visitor, Isla.”

“Isla?” he growls at the same moment I splutter, “Me?”

“Yes. I wish the both of you to open the dancing. Together. Now hurry along. The court grows impatient for entertainment, and you know how unpleasant it can be for humans when we get bored.”

Lara clutches her goblet, biting at her lip as she stares at her plate and ignores me. Ever wears an amused smirk, reminding me that even though I’m used to seeing him at home, glamored to look more human as he scoffs burgers at Max’s or shoots hoops with our friends on the weekend, he’s still very much one of them.

A fae.

Volatile.

Other.

I’m not sure how Lara deals with the notion that his true feral nature is always simmering away beneath his golden skin and charming set of dimples.

Whole body rigid, Raff stalks over and takes my hand. “Come, human. Let us be dutiful and do as her Majesty bids.”

“My name’s Isla. If you’re gonna keep calling me human, then it only seems fair I call you fae,” I snipe as we sweep down the steps together.

“To speak thusly to one of my kind on your first night in our land, you’re either brave or very stupid.”

Planting a hand on my hip, I pretend to consider his words. “Actually, Prince Fae, I think I’m a mixture of both. Mostly brave and only occasionally stupid.”

In a surprising move, he laughs.

The tables have been rearranged around the edges of the hall, creating a large dance floor edged by green columns dripping with the kind of vines and flowers that have never appeared in any garden in Blackbrook.

Faeries stare at us in anticipation, and I goggle at the tattoo covering Raff’s throat and upper chest, a spooky fire demon’s skull-like face with glowing red eyes. Then my gaze lifts, fixing on the lush shape of his mouth.

Ever has a pouty upper lip, whereas Raff’s mouth is sumptuous all over, the corners curving upward in adorable little arcs that are entrancingly kissable.

Ugh. What am I thinking?

Arms outstretched, he steps closer. “Come here, human, and we shall dance.”

“You’ll regret this. Believe me; it’s pointless. The only dancing I can pull off is solo stuff…weird booty-shaking in front of the bedroom mirror kind of dancing.”

Those sensual lips quirk. “After we have satisfied the Queen of Five, you may indulge in this solo stuff, as you call it, to your heart’s content. I admit I wish to observe it.”

Oh, yeah. I can picture myself busting my best funky bedroom moves for the entire Seelie court’s amusement. Unless I drink a barrel-full of mulberry wine, that’s so not going to happen.

The first notes from the fiddles lilt through the air, and Raff cuts me a quick bow. “You do not need to know the steps. Simply take off your shoes and hold on tightly. Before long, we will be flying.”

Yikes! I hope he doesn’t mean that literally.

This tall Prince of Fire is an arrogant ass, and his presence sucks all the oxygen from my lungs as I slip my heeled faery shoes off and then step into his arms. It’s not difficult to move closer because I’m drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Stupid moths. Do they realize their mistake as the heat licks over their wings, catching fire as it consumes them?

A shiver runs down my spine as his palm presses into my back, radiating heat, and we begin to move. Raff was right about me not needing dancing skills; he has plenty enough for both of us. He guides me so smoothly I begin to think I’ve been doing this all my life. I can dance! Wheeeeeeeee!

My skirt whirls, wrapping around our legs while our gazes lock hard. We spin faster and faster as stars rush past the edges of my vision like we’re whirling through the night sky. The music and chatter disappear, the rhythm of our breathing carrying us onward—faster, then faster still.

Sufficiently entertained, the queen applauds, and the court follows suit. Couples flow onto the floor, surrounding us, and within seconds it’s a crush, my hair catching on rough horns and fragile wings as we twirl through a maze of bodies that somehow miraculously get out of our way a second before collision—a magical choreography.

I smile at Lara as she and Ever dance close by. Merri is perched on Ever’s shoulders, giggling as she tries to catch the flowers produced by his air magic that float around them. It warms my heart to see them so happy. Lara waves back. Ever raises a silver eyebrow at his brother.

After some time—minutes, hours, I don’t know which—Raff slows to a gentle rocking pace, allowing me to catch my breath again.

“Where’s Spark, the mire fox I’ve heard so much about?”

“Thankfully, she’s being cared for elsewhere. The little demon has wreaked havoc at past banquets, leaping on the Folk, licking their plates clean, then slapping their faces when there is no more food left. She has been banished from such occasions for three moon turns.”

“Spark sounds like a true fiend. I look forward to meeting her and Ever’s monstrous-sized dog too. Lara’s told me lots of funny tales about them.”

Lips curving into an almost-smile, he says, “You dance well, human.”

“Don’t you know that sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, fae?”

“Even so, we fae cannot lie, but bending the truth amuses us.”

“So it seems.”

“But just now, I vow I wasn’t employing sarcasm. By the Elements, I swear you are as warm and bright as a candle flame in my arms—a pleasure to partner in any kind of dance.”

“A compliment! How unexpected.”

His grip tightens as we sway even more slowly, our feet barely moving while other couples continue to twirl like showers of glitter. We’re the couple in the center of a snow globe, still and calm as the turbulent world shudders and shakes around us.

Closing his eyes, which is a welcome relief from their intensity, he lifts his face toward the glass ceiling. His hand squeezes mine until my bones ache, then suddenly, his scent changes from fresh pine to warm and smoky. He smells like a campfire!

Then he makes a long sighing sound and tiny sparks tumble from above, spiraling like fireflies. As they land on my skin, each sharp sting only makes me laugh. Raff watches my reaction to the fire shower he’s made with great interest.

This feels dangerous, the way he’s looking at me, the burning embers eddying around us like a tornado. It’s madness. I know I should be frightened of him, but I’m not. I’m completely entranced by his magic.

Fire magic, my heart whispers. He’s using fire magic. And it totally intoxicates me.

When a large ember starts smoking in my hair, he extinguishes it with a tiny flick of his hand. “Apologies. I nearly set you ablaze.”

“Your powers don’t scare me. I can handle fire no problem.”

His pupils flare, a border of bright gold rimming them. “Say that again,” he commands.

“You don’t scare—”

“No. The part about fire.”

“I said I know how to handle fire, so don’t think you can intimidate me with your magic tricks.”

He stares for an age into my eyes, then tosses his head back and laughs like a maniac. “At last I have realized who you are, little firefly.”

“Sure you have. Do I remind you of a long-lost relative? Someone you slaughtered in a long-ago battle?”

Smiling, he ignores my jibe. “I would wager half the kingdom that you have an impressive tattoo somewhere on your body. Am I correct?”

“So what? In the human world, everyone is covered in tattoos. But I’ve only got one, and I love it so much. It’s of a—”

“Firebird,” he interrupts. “Rendered in shades of orange and purple, a rare phoenix rising from the ashes.”

My mouth gapes open. “How did you… Did Lara tell you about it?”

“Ha! I knew it was so!” His golden gaze burns through me. “It is you! I can hardly believe I have you in my arms. ‘Tis a miracle.”

“What are you—”

“The reason I thought we’d met before is because you, little firefly, have long featured in my dreams, a girl covered in smoke and fire and ash. Your eyes as blue as the Lake of Spirits. Your smile more joyous than even the sun’s rays.”

What the freaking freak?

This prince guy is insane. He may be regal and imposing and beautiful, but he’s a total nutjob.

“You, human, are my queen. My fated mate. The girl destined to halt the black poison crawling through my blood.”

I laugh as the music quickens, and the couples whirl around us like spinning tops. This is one of those dreams when something beautiful, something magical wavers at the edges before dissolving into a nightmare, dark horror taking over.

“When we first began to dance,” he says, his voice light, his face animated, “I felt peace, the ache of the poison settling into a steady, bearable hum. Since Ever left our land, I have been pleading with the Elements to hurry up and send you to me, but my appeals had gone unheard. Until now. And here you are in my arms—finally—the answer to every question, every problem.”

Shaking my head, I drop his hand and step backward. “Can you hear yourself? You sound like a madman. I’m not your fated mate. I’m Lara’s cousin. How could both of us, two girls from the same family, be the ones to still the poison of two fae princes. And brothers at that. It’s dumb. You’re only seeing what you want to be true, chasing shadows, that’s all.”

We’re standing perfectly still at the center of a bad dream. I give myself a mental slap and look around the Great Hall, searching for an escape route. Musicians play faster than seems possible. The dancers’ feet stomp so hard I fear the marble might crack beneath us, and the earth will open up and swallow us whole. Singers warble nonsensical lyrics—screeches, hoots, and howls.

This place is a madhouse. I’m insane for ever wanting to come here—to the Seelie Court. What was I thinking?

“You are the right girl.” Raff’s deep voice pulls me from my panic. “I’ve dreamed about you, and you bear the mark of my queen. Tomorrow, I shall speak to the High Mage and she will confirm it.”

“Isn’t your fated mate meant to wait for you under some kind of crystal oak tree?”

He shakes his head. “No. That was the direction Ever’s air mage gave to find his mate. And it was interpreted incorrectly anyway. The branches of the Crystalline Oak were etched into Lara’s back. The tattoo is the key. And you bear the correct one.”

“What direction did the fire mage give you?”

“None. Wait and she will come was all Salamander would say. Lara told me you found my fire mage hiding in the human world—she refuses to come home—and she helped you through a portal. This is not a coincidence. Salamander sent you to me.”

“Let’s say for argument’s sake that I am this fated mate you’ve been waiting for. What would you want from me?”

“As I said…everything. We must marry without delay and then—”

“Marry you? That’s hilarious.” I laugh while he stares solemnly, as though his words are reasonable and perfectly normal instead of demented. “You’re serious? No way!” I point at my chest. “This girl here is waiting for true love. I’m gonna open a French bakery when I finish college, not marry some fae dude I don’t even know just because you mistakenly believe it’ll save you from a curse. That’s not fair! What’s in it for me?”

He gives me a charming smile. “It is no surprise that the future Queen of Fire is passionate and strong willed. This pleases me a great deal. I will change your mind, and you will marry me, Isla Delaney of Blackbrook. It is written. And so it shall be.”

As outrage boils in my blood, he grips my fingers, bends at the waist, and presses his lips to the back of my hand, searing my skin with his kiss. He straightens and looms above me, his heated gaze sizzling into mine. “I thank the Elements for this day. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, human.”

“Isla. My name is Isla.”

“Yes, of course. Isla. I look forward to spending more time with you.” Wearing a self-satisfied smirk, he bows and turns away.

“Cool your jets. I doubt that’ll be happening.” As the crowd parts for him, anger rolls through my gut. I clear my throat and yell, “And for your information, acting like an entitled ass and demanding marriage is a major turn off. I’m not interested in hanging out with you.”

A few fae whip their heads my way, their expressions startled.

Prince Rafael stops walking, and I wait, watching his broad shoulders heave as I count.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Without turning, he flicks his hand behind him, and a scarlet cloud appears above me. Sparks burst from it, blue and soft as petals, falling down like rain. Fire masquerading as water. My skin buzzes with that dark thrill again, the one caused by him—Rafael, the Prince of Fire.

“He wasn’t always like that,” says Lara, tugging on my sleeve and scaring the crap out of me. “So intense and grumpy.”

“Can you please not sneak up on me in your cute, quiet little faery slippers? It’s been a heck of a night. My nerves are shot.”

“Sorry. When I arrived in this city as Ever’s prisoner, Raff was my first real friend. He was a certified hell raiser, but warm and funny and completely adorable. He was actually a lot of fun.”

That’s hard to believe. “And now he’s the Black Blood heir; he’s rude, conceited, and he’s—”

“Incredibly good looking…”

“An incredibly good-looking jerk. And don’t try and change my mind about him. I don’t trust your motives because you obviously knew all about this loony stuff with my tattoo before you left home, didn’t you?”

“Uh, yep. During our time here, Ever and I were planning to work out what to do about the crazy fact you’re Raff’s mate. It’s been messing with our heads. Should we bring you here to meet him? Hide you away forever? You landing here out of the blue has solved the dilemma for us. You’ve set the wheels of fate in motion and there’s no stopping them now.”

“Oh, great. Glad to be helpful.” I take her by the shoulders and draw her close so she can hear me over the noise. “Listen closely. You need to know that I’m not the least bit interested in any weird marriage of convenience. Remember, your situation with Ever was very different. You’d already fallen hard for him before you found out you were his chosen mate. Well, I want the chance to fall in love too. And I want to be loved. I won’t settle for anything less. Rafael Fionbharr can shove his precious fated mate up his butt.”

Lara smirks. “Better be careful what you wish for here in Faery, Isla. You wouldn’t want that to actually come true now, would you?”

“Shut up,” I say, biting back a laugh as I watch Raff bid his mother goodnight with a dramatic sweeping bow.

But she’s right, I really, really wouldn’t want that to happen. Because I’m that fated mate.

Apparently.

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