Page 22 of The Crown of a Fallen Queen (Curse of the Fae #4)

Family Tree

DEVI

T he crowd gathers in a wide, careful circle around us, many Fae turning white at the sight of the weapon. Elio entombs the blade in ice, and Seth twists Freya’s arm, forcing her to relinquish the hilt.

The ceremonial blade drops to the ground, its frozen casing shattering on impact, freeing the deadly weapon once more. Elio bends to pick it up, his top lip curled in a snarl. “You brought an end-all blade to my court?”

Lori rushes to his side, her ballet flats soundless over the marble.

She’s the only woman not wearing a dress, but her black pantsuit fits her like a very chic, very sexy glove, the path between her breasts deliberately bare.

The way she moves reminds me of the Shadow King, her grace sharpened by stealth and flexibility.

I have no doubt she could win a fight against any man here.

“Easy,” she says, calm but firm. “There’s no reason to murder each other.”

Freya spits at my feet. “There’s every reason.”

“Every reason, indeed,” I shoot back, keeping my cool, my grin widening.

Elio rubs the arch of his brow. “Guards, please escort the Spring Queen to my private library. She needs to calm down.”

A few murmurs rise from her entourage, but none loud enough to matter.

“She’s the criminal, not me. I’m allowed to defend myself. Your father will back me up on this,” Freya argues.

“You brought a concealed end-all blade to my ballroom. You’ll be lucky to leave here alive,” he rasps, the cold power of a glacier icing his deep voice. “Take a moment to compose yourself. We’ll be joining you shortly, and we’ll see what the others think of your unprovoked defense .”

The guards lead Freya off the dance floor under Elio’s watchful eye.

She messed up. Badly. She’ll be punished for bringing a blade like that into the Winter King’s castle, of all places. And as much as she might’ve liked to scratch me with it, she didn’t bring that dagger because of me. She had no idea I’d be here.

Who did she mean to kill?

I couldn’t have dreamed up a better opening chapter for my revenge. My blood thrums with adrenaline and the sweet burn of karma. Justice, at long last, is being served.

My body tingles with all flavors of just desserts , and I lean into Seth, my fingers digging into his coat. “You’re not the mama’s boy I thought you were,” I say quickly.

Whatever love exists between them, they have issues.

My savior combs a hand through his short, tempestuous black hair and shrugs off the violent interlude with a click of his fingers. A flying tray zips over to us, and he grabs two glasses of Feyfire wine, offering me one. “I’ll drink to that.”

Bubbles spill over the rim, and the scent of honey and cinnamon set ablaze drags my thoughts down the gutter. I’m too fragile to ingest the most potent aphrodisiac in existence, but I’m also incredibly thirsty for it.

“Cheers.” The soft clink of our glasses shivers through me. “That was quite a performance. I’m impressed.”

The cocktail is slick and warm, enough to scorch my insides.

Seth’s gaze lingers on my lips. “I bet you’d like to pretend there’s nothing more between us than a performance.

” His gaze dips down to my stomach, his hands heavy on my waist. “But I can smell your arousal from here, witch. I bet your sweet heat throbs at the mere thought of my cock. Because I’d know exactly how to fuck you to make you scream, my queen ,” he says with an affable smile, as though we’re having a perfectly innocent discussion on the fringes of the dance floor.

I blink, shaken by the molten wave of lust gripping my gut, and take another sip of wine. “You surprise me, pretty boy. I thought you were more of a gentleman.”

He presses a hot kiss at the junction between my ear and neck. “You wouldn’t know what to do with me if I were.”

My lids flutter. The High Fae on the outskirts of the dance floor are all watching—pointing, whispering. I can’t lose my head now.

I twist my hands in Seth’s hair, nails sinking into his scalp, and swallow his next breath with an end-all kiss. It’s the appropriate reward for his chivalrous rescue, but each time our tongues meet, my high wavers. Why does it feel like I’m losing this game?

The rush of humiliating Freya so thoroughly, so publicly, after dreaming of it for years… I should be flying. Instead, I’m unraveling.

Because as much as I enjoyed seeing her squirm, I’ve exposed myself as nothing more than a glittering jewel on her son’s arm.

As though I’ve fallen for him, as though I belong to him.

That’s the price of arranged marriages. Never mind that the engagement makes political sense.

Never mind that Seth has fallen under my spell. The woman is the one seen as less-than.

What if the attack was planned, somehow? A ploy to win my trust? Even to me, it sounds like a stretch.

The trouble is, ploy or not, I’ve never wanted to jump his bones more. I’d give anything to be indifferent to him, to shrug off his gaze, his games, the flames he stokes in me, but alas…

Every fiber of my being still aches from the way he kissed me like I was already his.

I want to strip him of his ambiguous smiles, his clever quips, and the nonchalance he wears like a crown.

His clothes, too. I want to peel them off slowly, until there’s nothing left between us but skin, hunger, and the knowledge that I’m the one in control.

Seth groans into the kiss, the ridge of his erection digging into my stomach, and I finally pull away.

Most of the High Fae are staring now, and I don’t shy away from their fascination.

Their tongues dart out to wet their rosy lips, blushes creeping along many of their cheeks.

A Winter Fae’s throat bobs with a quick, uneven swallow, just as her companion’s fists clench at his sides.

Sex is on their minds, curiosity hanging on their breaths, envy coiling in their bodies.

I’m Devi Eros. Every one of them is picturing themselves in Seth’s place, women included. They all want to know what it’s like.

Seth strokes my back, his callused thumb slipping under the material of my dress. My spine feels like a fuse, channeling heat deep and low, but the insidious caress stops abruptly.

“Uh-uh. Party’s over,” Seth warns.

I glance over my shoulder just in time to see Damian Sombra and Ethan Lightbringer entering together through the ballroom’s main entrance, and the sight stops me cold.

I’d heard rumors that the Shadow King was back to his full power, but seeing him whole makes my heart bleed with joy and regret all at once.

By Eros… His bite of power ripples across the room, shadows licking his sculpted shoulders, his black hooded tunic lacerated in various spots and revealing the tanned skin underneath.

Next to him, Ethan slicks his long platinum blonde hair behind his pointy ears, looking more disheveled than usual. His white waistcoat is freckled with dark, oily blood.

A bitter tang fills my mouth at the sight of him, and my core muscles cramp in disgust. Every inch of him turns my stomach, from his long, imperious nose, to the hollows of his cheeks and the arrogant cut of his jaw.

Ethan Lightbringer's beauty is a menace, a thing of too-perfect angles and too-quiet calm. But it’s the cruelty in his ice-blue eyes that gives him away.

Anyone staring into those eyes can plainly see that the light inside him burned through and left nothing behind.

The vicious man I abhor above all others—the monster who raped my mother.

Every time I see him, I dream up new ways to kill him. Some quick and clean. Most slow and messy. Yet somehow, he’s still walking around like a nightmare stitched into fine clothes.

The dancers all pause, and the royals gather closer, Seth ushering me forward, too. The signature smirk Ethan wears in public disappears when he spots me, and a glint of anger burns in his gaze.

“We should find a quiet place to talk,” Damian announces, the low pitch of his voice echoing deep in my belly.

Elio nods, forced to play referee despite his own grievances.

“Cousins, I prepared my private library so we can discuss things further between us.” He doesn’t want any political incident to derail this summit, but it must cost him a lot to keep a level head when Ethan is near. “Come with us, Seth,” he adds quickly.

The prince narrows his eyes. “Me?”

“Yes. Go ahead, I’ll catch up in a moment.

I need a word with Devi first,” Elio says, waving for Seth to leave without him.

The Winter King’s chest heaves, and he leans in, his posture almost menacing, though his voice remains perfectly amiable.

“Lori told me you could feel Iris’s soul inside her,” he whispers.

To anyone but us, it must look like he’s scolding me for the scene I just caused.

“I’m amazed you couldn’t,” I say with a fake, contrite pout.

“My Light magic dimmed when I left the Sun Court—you know that.” He ushers me to the door where Seth and the other royals just exited and holds it open for me. Lori is still trying to settle the crowd in the ballroom, but her eyes dart over, wide with worry, just before we cross into the hallway.

A twinge of guilt stirs in my stomach. “Your wife assumed we were lovers. You should tell her the truth.”

“I can’t. Not while Iris hears everything I’m saying.” He lowers his voice. “Dark souls destroy the bodies they borrow. I need to rid Lori of Iris for good. Mabel said only the King of Light could pull her soul out without harming Lori.”

I blink, gobsmacked that Mabel already knew about Iris and Lori, and didn’t tell me. “She’s probably right.”

“Willow is hell-bent on killing Ethan. If she succeeds, Helios will have to name a new king, and whoever is chosen will determine whether my wife lives or dies.”

Helios, the God of Light, is fond of hereditary monarchies and almost always marks one of the children of the dead king as his new heir.

“It couldn’t be you, you’re already King,” I assure him.

“Could it be you?” he deadpans.

My hand flies to my ribs to graze the Mark of the Gods tattooed on my stomach. “I don’t think so. I’m not...free of Spring, really. I still bear Eros’s mark.”

Elio exhales loudly, rubbing his neck back and forth.

“Last time you were here, you hinted that Ezra was not only alive, but that you knew where he was hiding… If you have a way of communicating with him, tell him now would be a good time for him to get his head out of his ass and return to Faerie. If he shows up as the new King of Light without a word beforehand, I’ll assume he wants war. ”

A heavy sigh quakes my chest. “Don’t fret. Ezra is not coming back to Faerie, and he’s not going to be the next king of the Solar Cliffs.” I hide a wince behind my palm, unwilling to open that particular can of wiggly, fucked-up worms. “That’s all I can say.”

Elio walks away with a nod but pauses at the foot of the staircase heading up to the towers. “What about Seth?”

“What about him?”

“You’re not really going to marry him, are you?” He says on a pleading, childish pout.

I grab the skirt of my dress and walk backward toward the ballroom, never breaking eye contact, feeling as lawless and mischievous as the first time I shot him with a love arrow. “Why not? Seth’s sexy as fuck.”

Elio turns green. I simply love to tease him. For all the horror of my birth and the secrets that plague my bloodline, I’m happy he’s my baby brother.