Page 19 of The Crowned Queen

“You didn’t think I trusted you, did you?” He traced the curve of her collarbone, his eyes hot on her exposed skin. “You’ve been so different since you came back. Defiant. I knew I’d have to protect you from yourself.”

His hand drifted lower, running between her breasts to the fresh runes carved into her skin. They answered to his touch, and she collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, only Jaxon’s grip keeping her from falling to the floor.

“So beautiful,” he murmured. “Even when you’re fighting me.”

“What—” Her voice caught, the word little more than a rasp. She swallowed, tasting blood. “What did you do to me?”

“I fixed you.” He smiled, uncaring of how she flinched when he brushed her hair back from her face. “I fixed us. You can’t disobey me anymore, Starling. It will be so much easier for you.”

“You didn’t compel me.” Araya jerked her face away from his touch. “I would have felt it.”

Jaxon chuckled, pulling her back into the bed. “You were always so perceptive. I had Kai carve this command right into your skin—I had a feeling you would need the correction sooner rather than later. Now your own magic will punish you if you try to harm anyone with Shaw blood.”

Araya stared at him, her heart pounding so loudly it was all she could hear. “You’re a monster,” she whispered.

“Your monster.” Jaxon tucked her back against his chest, his breath stirring the hair at the nape of her neck. “It’s not as bad as you think it is, Starling,” he murmured into her hair. “You’ll see. This was for your own good.”

Araya lay rigid in his arms, her heart hammering against the cage of her ribs. Jaxon’s hand traced slow circles over her stomach, every brush of his skin against hers a promise.

“Fight me later, Starling,” he whispered into her hair. “Right now, you need to rest.”

Chapter

Six

“This is a terrible idea,” Finn said.

“It doesn’t seem like we have much of a choice.” Loren tugged up his hood, pausing to make sure the shadows were all tucked under his cloak. “We need fighters to break into the Shaw estate. From everything you’ve said, this Maerin has them.”

Finn grunted, pulling his own hood up to shadow his face. “This way.”

Loren slid out of the narrow alley, hunching his shoulders to try and disguise his height. Finn set a brisk pace, sticking to alleys and the shadowy edges of streets wherever they could.

It should have drawn the wrong sort of attention—skulking through the streets like criminals. But the few people still out barely glanced their way, eyes downcast as they hurried to finish their business before sunset. No one wanted to be caught out on the street after curfew.

“Maerin isn’t what you’re expecting,” Finn said as they turned down yet another empty street. “She doesn’t believe in long-term strategy, or minimizing losses. If she sees a chance to strike at the Arcanum, she’ll take it. No matter what the cost.”

“Are you saying she can’t be trusted?” Loren asked.

“Not exactly.” Finn’s gaze flicked across the boarded-up windows, scanning their surroundings as they crossed another street. “But she certainly isn’t a royalist.”

Loren slammed to a stop. “A what?”

Finn kept walking. “A royalist. Someone who still believes the fae monarchy has something to offer them,” he said, his voice low. “You have to understand, Loren, most of the fae here—fuck.”

Finn grabbed Loren by the arm, yanking him back into the mouth of the narrow alley they’d just passed. Only to swear again when they fetched up against a collapsed building, turning their escape route into an unexpected dead end.

“What—” Loren started.

Then he heard it. Boots on cobblestone, every step accompanied by the faint jingle of metal.

An Arcanum patrol—moving closer.

“Against the wall,” Finn ordered. “Now.”

Loren held his breath, plastering himself into the darkest corner of the dead-end alley. It wasn’t going to be enough. As soon as they rounded the corner, the soldiers would see them, huddled against the wall like cornered rats. An ignominious end to the last king of the free fae.

“Don’t move,” Loren muttered.