Page 46 of Fae Games

My heart pounded, and I struggled for air as a memory surfaced from the recesses of my mind. One night, Elijah came to visit with a bunch of blue bananas he said were suitable for human consumption. He gave one to Sicily, who immediately fell asleep in front of the table, and led me to the bedroom.

That evening, he said he wanted to try something fun, and I let him attach manacles like these around my wrists, but instead of the usual foreplay, he bent me over and fucked me doggy-style on the bed. It had been hard, brutal, and unlike anything he had done before. He remained silent throughout, filling my ears with those hot and heavy breaths. Afterward, he unclipped the manacles and left me without a word.

A few days later, when he visited, we talked about the experience, and Elijah had seemed genuinely surprised that I hadn’t enjoyed it. Knowing about his sordid whoremonger business, I realize now that he’d only been surprised because his client probably hadn’t paid him extra for the use of manacles.

The faerie pressed his hardness into my ass, and panic spiked through my chest like a spear. My throat opened up, letting out a scream.

“Stop,” boomed a loud voice.

The faerie drew back, allowing me to catch a few shallow breaths through my restricted airway. Everybody, including me, turned to the stage, where King Oberon rose from his throne.

“These ladies are all fated to mate with my sons,” he said. “I will not have them manhandled unless the victim dies. Release them at once!”

“Lucky for you,” whispered the faerie.

The manacles around my neck and wrists vanished, and when I turned around, he was gone. Exhaling a shaky breath, I walked to the middle table, where Princes Caulden and Rory sat alone, looking bored with the unfurling of events.

A knot of worry formed in my gut. If neither of them had come to my rescue, then something had to be wrong. I walked to the front of their table and placed both hands on its surface. “What’s happened?”

Neither of them reacted to my presence, instead, continuing to stare at the stage. I waved an arm in their line of sight, but it had no effect. They weren’t in a stupor. Prince Caulden yawned, and Prince Rory blinked. It was almost as though they’d been the victim of multiple Jacks of Smiles.

“Stay away from my brothers, halfling,” said a cold voice from behind.

I turned around and met the hard, blue eyes of Prince August. He stared down at me with both hands on his hips in a display of masculine dominance.

“Something’s wrong with them,” I said.

His golden brows rose. “I’m surprised it took you this long to notice the sleepwalking draught.”

I turned around to find the princes in the same position. “Why?”

“They would have interfered when you lost and I had you thrown into the deepest dungeon with only drakes and fire sprites for company.”

My lips pressed together in a hard line, and I swallowed hard. I couldn’t even muster enough fury to rage in his face. Prince August had to know that little stunt had made his brothers vulnerable, and his stupid fixation with me was becoming dangerous.

“What if there was an assassination attempt?” I spat.

He stuck his nose in the air. “The king’s guard protects us everywhere we go.”

“They didn’t protect Lady Gazania,” I said. “And if the mate you value so much had aimed her magic another angle, neither one of your brothers would have been able to duck.”

Prince August’s lips flattened with the kind of disgust people get when confronted with something awful, like a piece of shit at the end of a stick held under their nose. He didn’t reply, which was a sign that I was right, and he was wrong. But this time, I felt no triumph.

We stared into each other’s eyes, locked in mutual hatred until I said, “If I had to blame anyone for Lady Gazania’s fate, it’s you.”

He stepped back. “And how would you come to such a conclusion?”

“The Emporium dress,” I replied. “You gave it to Lady Aster without warning her of its effects, and she went onstage and humiliated herself. Was that what you wanted?”

“Of course not,” he said with a sniff.

I stepped toward him, making sure to meet his stormy blue eyes. The truth was on my side, regardless of what Lady Aster or Helen’s father thought. “Did you ask the store what would happen when someone tried on a dress that had already molded to someone else?”

Prince August glanced away.

I prodded him in the chest. “You think you’re so superior because you have magic, and we don’t, but all I see is an overgrown child wielding a power he doesn’t deserve.”

His nostrils flared, and the veins on his forehead bulged, but still, he said nothing. I wanted to leave him with a few pithy words, but that last experience with the anonymous guard had drained my last reserves of strength. If I continued to rant at Prince August, I might cry, and he would probably interpret my tears as his victory.