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No matter how pretty her ocean eyes, I would not be bound to a woman with the lifespan of a goldfish (and likely the intellect to match). I could never love a human. But I could make her fall in love with me, and I suspected that would be enough to satisfy the magic.

Still, hours later, I lay awake wondering. How would I live with her just paces away? How would I keep up this facade? Who could possibly want what lied beneath?

CHAPTER 12

The Stolen Bride

Iwoke in moonlight with aching muscles and a throbbing headache. Perhaps, I was coming down with something. I turned my head to the cool side of the pillow and felt something hard press into my cheek. I raised my head and discovered the offending object, the pearls embroidered into my duvet.

Wait. I didn’t have pearls on my duvet. I blinked and took in my surroundings. Where was I? Even in the dim lighting, I knew this was not my bedroom. In the corner, soft lavender blossoms erupted from a shimmering sea glass floor and emitted an intoxicating scent. The posts of my bed were made of golden, twisting vine, curving upward to form a canopy of the smallest, brightest green leaves.

Then it all came back to me. I was in the fae realm. I was a stolen bride. My stomach dropped like an anchor, and panic rose in my chest.

What was I doing sleeping? I had to get out of here. Now.

My frantic gaze landed on a large set of windows. A warm ocean breeze drifted in and out like the tides. What would stop intruders from entering or stolen brides from exiting? I stepped closer and looked downward. The ground was many stories below.

I assumed there were wards I couldn’t see with my weak human eyes. But… perhaps there were not. After all, who would care if a mere mortal tumbled to her death on the rocks? Certainly not my groom who had dumped me at the entrance.

If he cared so little about my presence, perhaps I could simply exit through the main doors. I hurried to my bedroom door and turned the knob. Outside, the halls, the rooms, and even the entry appeared to be deserted. The sound of my footfalls echoed, making me feel like an ogre patrolling a stolen castle.

I was suddenly suspicious. Why were there so few staff attending the king? Was this common for fae, or did he prefer to remain isolated and undisturbed? Perhaps he traveled frequently? Perhaps he had given them a holiday?

I shook my head. I didn’t care about him or his staff. I had found the exit. There was no one to stop me from running out the large oak doors.

This was my chance for escape.

I wondered, brazenly, if I had time to find my stolen sister, too. How many hours did I have until daybreak?

I stormed toward the door, placed my hand upon the latch, and was ready to throw the doors open. Then, my heart began to hammer against my rib cage. I couldn’t catch my breath. I was running out of air. It felt as if I had been running for miles.

I feared I would vomit.

I feared I would die.

What was happening?

Then I realized this had happened before in my very own dining room. The bargain would not allow me to walk away so easily. It would rather kill me.

I will not break our bargain, I thought desperately. At once, everything eased. I leaned over with my hands on my knees, taking sharp, ragged breaths.

I will not break our bargain.

I will not break our bargain.

I turned the words over and over in my mind until my breathing returned to normal.

If I did, I would die.

There was more. If I did not uphold my end of our bargain, the king would not be bound by his. Maggie and father would be in grave danger.

My internal rebellion flickered out at once. I would stay and marry him, but I vowed to never love him. As I thought it, a deep sadness washed over me. Ours would be a cruel, loveless marriage. One of tricks and deceit.

I had known I was destined for an arranged marriage, but somehow I had still hoped for something more. That hope was snuffed out like a candle.

I returned to my bedroom.

When I woke again, the sun was well along its path across the sky. An ocean breeze blew in and gently tugged at the tendrils of my hair. I lay in a tangle of silk sheets, covered by a crumpled duvet.