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He whispered, far too close to my soft, rounded ear, "Best to play the part, or you’ll raise their ire. After all, who wouldn’t want to marry the king?"

"I thought you said no harm would come to me," I hissed back.

"Whilst I am with you," he reminded, nipping at my earlobe.

I shivered. Whether from his words or his warm breath, I wasn’t sure.

CHAPTER 9

The Fae King

Istudied her, clutching the sea glass in her hand. Her inviting eyes, the color of the sea, tilted up toward me in awe. Her coral lips were parted ever so slightly, and I had the strangest urge to press my lips to hers.

Did her mother’s magic run in her veins? Was I ensorcelled?

Certainly not. Don’t forget your part, I thought sharply. Win her heart. Win your freedom.

She shivered, and I was caught off guard once more. "You’re cold," I said in surprise. How could she be cold? It was a warm evening, and she had her wretched magic to warm her. Didn’t she?

"I don’t suppose you have a cloak, your majesty." Her tone was meant to be biting, but shivering from cold and fear, she hadn’t managed it.

I never expected a witchling to be so delicate. Was it a trick? Mortals were masters at deception. I knew better than to underestimate her.

But no. Her dress was clinging to her curves, and her golden hair toppled down her back. Her cheeks were pale.

How utterly fragile all mortals truly were.

She would collapse before we even made it to the castle. I sighed inwardly and scooped her into my arms.

She let out a tiny gasp of surprise, and I must admit I rather enjoyed it. Other than her little outburst moments ago, she had been reserved since I went to collect her. Shy. Anxious. Diminished. Nothing like the girl I had met by the pond that night—the one running barefoot through the woods, drinking champagne straight from the bottle, and diving into the pond in her undergarments. It was a shame. I rather liked that girl.

I conjured a warming glamour and allowed it to spread down my arms and envelope us both. Her teeth stopped chattering.

It made me feel something.

Pride? Happiness? I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

CHAPTER 10

The Stolen Bride

Wrapped in his arms, he carried me inland, away from the ocean shore and the crowds who had gathered to see their king arrive with his new bride. They were probably wondering the same thing I was—why was I here? Why did he choose me?

Somewhere at our feet, I heard a faint whisper. "Welcome."

I looked down and spotted an enormous sea turtle, half buried in the sand and hidden among the tall oat grass. I started to incline my head in thanks, but then I noticed the blood dripping from its lips. I quickly averted my eyes.

My groom carried me onward until the sand turned to soil. Soon, ancient oak trees canopied above us, arching into a pathway. They were like ours at home but larger and more gnarled. How many thousands of years had these trees seen? How deep were their roots?

The trees were aglow with mesmerizing orbs of light. They weren’t the lightning bugs I was used to. I felt I shouldn’t look at them, but I also couldn’t seem to stop. For once, I was grateful to be carried. I didn’t trust my own feet.

Ahead, a magnificent castle loomed on the horizon. It appeared as if it had been wrought from the very elements themselves—sand, shell, and ocean spray. The effect was breathtaking and otherworldly. It was nothing like our homes, even my own palatial one.

"What do you think?" he asked.

I tried not to let my wonder show. I shrugged and said, "It looks like a dribbled sand castle. A naughty child might kick it over."

He gave me a sliver of a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. "It will take more than a mortal child to fell this palace."