Nectar of the Wicked (Deadly Divine, #1) (24)

My cheeks threatened to stain with heat. The outrageousness of what he was saying kept it from happening. “But...” My voice dried. I shook my head and cleared my throat. “I’m a changeling. I have no noble family. I have no family or name at all,” I said, almost wincing at hearing myself spill the sad truths aloud. “I don’t even have friends.”

That last one wasn’t exactly true.

I loved Gane, but admitting that the goblin who ran the town library was my only friend would not help. A goblin King Florian had exiled from his kingdom at Gane’s desperate request, no less.

“Which makes you perfect,” Florian said, the words soft but with a coating of steel that sent a spike of alarm trailing down my spine.

I wondered if he might even remember Gane, but I quickly pushed the thought away when I realized what this king was asking.

He was asking for a queen.

“Why?” I gripped the crinkled satin bedding, needing a tether to know this was real and not one of my dazzling dreams.

Florian lifted a shoulder and took another sip of whiskey. “I intend to go to war, and although I intend to win, it would be irresponsible of me to attempt as much without someone to rule in my stead should death find me.”

War.

My mind spun and spun so fast, I feared I’d snatch the whiskey from his hand to drain the lot. There had always been rumors of cruelty and tension between the ruling courts of Folkyn, though never anything that would make one think they would go to war.

There had only ever been one war on this continent.

A war that had created the middle lands.

Crustle was formed eons ago when the Fae of Folkyn grew tired of humans leaking into their lands. All the while, the human royals of Ordaylia had never cared who stole into Fae territory and what they did while there, as they had supposedly gained many riches from the daring folk who lived to steal from faeries.

But when the stealing and treachery bloomed into murder—of both Fae and their wildlife—the four courts of Folkyn moved against Ordaylia.

From the recounts I’d read, it was not so much a war but a journey with few battles to the doorstep of the mortal royal home. By the time the Fae armies had reached the castle, the king and queen of Ordaylia had pledged to surrender and find terms for peace.

The king was killed and the queen forced to provide a solution that, while not well thought out, had indeed provided a tremulous peace across the continent of Mythayla for thousands and thousands of years.

Florian downed the last of his drink. “Afraid of a little bloodshed, butterfly?” He smirked. “Fear not. You would not accompany me. Risking your life would defeat the purpose of what I’m hoping to achieve, of course.”

“I’m just...” I trailed off, at a loss for words. “I’m so confused.”

“What confuses you?”

So many things. All of it.

I didn’t say that, but rather, “You could have anyone you desire. Anyone.”

He stroked the perfect curve of his lower lip, staring into his empty glass as though pondering whether to speak more on the baffling matter. “You are beautiful and of pure blood, yet you have nothing.” When I frowned, he added simply, “Therefore, you will expect nothing.”

He didn’t need to fill in the gaps between those words. The females he’d perhaps considered in his court, or even in all the realms of Folkyn, were Fae.

They would expect everything.

And I could not blame them. A small fire burned low in my gut at his expectations and assumptions. “What makes you think I would make such an easy wife?” Realizing what I’d said and the way it could be received, I blushed.

Noticing, Florian smirked as he set his glass down. “I don’t expect you to be...” He crossed to the bed with steps that kicked at my slowing heart. “Easy.” Standing before me, he went to open my knees.

They opened for him on instinct—further cementing his beliefs.

His smile was devastating. His fingers gentle at my chin. He lifted and stroked it. “I already know you wish only to please me.”

I swallowed, loathing that he was right. Denying it was pointless. Still, I challenged, “And what has you so convinced?”

His brow arched. “You are malleable.” His eyes crawled down my body to halt between my thighs. “You do as I tell you.”

“One could argue that’s because you’ve paid me to.”

His lips twitched, eyes slamming into mine. “We know that’s not why you came on my tongue within a minute.”

Want fired through my blood and gathered low in my body.

He inhaled, deep and grinning, as he murmured, “Smells like confirmation.”

It was then I knew with a certainty that should have made me turn his outrageous request down but instead, only made me curl closer, that this male would indeed be my doom.

“Answers,” I said, my voice strangled and wrong as I grappled for some semblance of control. “I require answers as to who I am and where I belong. Is that what I shall receive?”

A flash of darkness swept over his eyes. His touch firmed before he released me and turned away. “Of course.”

I closed my knees and chewed my lip.

This was insanely stupid. So much so, I shouldn’t even be tempted. Marriage was a contract few rarely escaped. Surely, I was not so desperate that I would marry a king.