The Summer King Bundle: 3 Stories by Jennifer L. Armentrout

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  Yet again, I had no idea how to respond to any of that or what to think. So I pretty much ignored it. “And the Order? Miles? Did they…look for me?”

  “They did in the beginning.”

  I knew what was left unsaid. “But they stopped? Assumed I was dead and cut their losses.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” I smiled, and it felt weird and wrong. Probably because I hadn’t done so in…well, a long time. “It’s the way it is, and I was not an essential member of the Order.”

  Caden’s gaze flew to mine. “That was their mistake. And ours.”

  I looked away as conversations from the past resurfaced. Caden. Ivy. Ren. Both of whom I now remembered. All of them telling me that I needed to stay out of it.

  “Aric sent a message. He wanted a meeting with me, said he had something that I was looking for. I knew immediately that it was you. He was right.” Caden exhaled heavily, and something stirred on the fringes of my memory. “I had no idea if you were going to be alive or not, but I went. He never showed. Two of his Knights did. Both claimed that they assumed Aric would meet them there.”

  Dumb and Dumber, I thought. The ones who’d carried the copper tub.

  “One of them didn’t crack. The other did, told us where you were being held. Unfortunately, it took a while to get that information from them.”

  I had a feeling I should know this. “How long did it take?”

  “Four days,” Caden said.

  Flashes of those days danced in front of me. The hunger. The exhaustion. The hallucinations. “Are they dead? The two Knights?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” I murmured.

  “How did you kill him?” Caden asked after a moment.

  “He left a…dagger behind. I can’t remember why he forgot it.” I frowned. “I think he was surprised by something and left it, but I remembered when I…. When I woke up.” I glanced over at him. “I remembered it, and I knew to wait until it was only him. Those two Knights carried the tub into the chamber so I could bathe. There was also a female fae.”

  Caden’s head tilted slightly. “He made you bathe in that chamber?”

  Returning to staring at the glass, I nodded. “Yeah. Anyway, I used the dagger the first time he was alone. I cut off his head with it.” I thought of the dress. He’d called it a gift. “I think he was coming down to take me…” Holy crap, something occurred to me, and my chin jerked up. “I think he was coming down to take me to you. That’s why he put me in that dress.”

  Caden’s jaw tightened.

  “He was going to release me and take me out of the chamber. I could’ve killed him then, and I would’ve had a chance to escape.” My eyes widened. “Then I…I wouldn’t have been in there.”

  “You had no idea what he was planning. You did what you thought was best at the time,” Caden told me. “You did nothing wrong.”

  I’m not glad she did.

  The King had said that in response to Ivy saying that she was glad I’d killed Aric. “You said you weren’t happy that I killed him.”

  “You heard that?” When I nodded, a faint smile appeared and then disappeared. “Besides the fact that I wanted the absolute pleasure of tearing him apart myself, I rather you had never been in the position to do that. That’s why I am not glad that you did.”

  “Oh,” I repeated for the umpteenth time. “Well, he suffered. A lot.” A real smile graced my lips then, the kind that probably would concern therapists across the nation. “Cutting off someone’s head isn’t exactly easy.”

  One corner of his lips curved up. “But you did it.”

  “I did. I had to.” The smile faded from my lips, and the next breath I took felt harsh. “It’s the only thing I had to do. He is—he was…” Trailing off, I shook my head. “He was evil.”

  “I know he was.”

  The way he said that tugged a memory loose, an image of Aric’s taunting smile and something about… Whatever was there slipped outside my reach. Exhaling loudly, I looked over at Caden.

  He had sat back, his hands resting on the arms of the chair. He made the simple seat look like a throne. “What did he do to you?”

  The question was a loaded one—one I wasn’t sure I could even answer. My brow knotted.

  “You don’t have to answer that. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  “He did whatever he could,” I whispered, the glass trembling as more memories wiggled free. “When I didn’t cave or when I…I didn’t scream, he made sure I did. He took his time. The cuts…he did it for hours. I don’t know. He…wanted to make sure I knew he was…in control—when I slept, when I was awake, when I…when I ate or drank.”

  “He did something with the food and drink?” Caden asked.

  Looking over at him, I saw that his hands had curled around the arms of the chair. “He didn’t…” I twisted, ignoring the dull flare of pain along my ribs as I placed the glass on the nightstand. “He didn’t make eating easy. I’d be…”

  “What?” His voice had softened. His knuckles had started to bleach white.

  “I never knew how you could desire something so much and dread it at the same time.” Without realizing what I was doing until I did it, I lifted my fingers to my lip, feeling the swollen skin there for the first time. “I’d be so hungry because I didn’t get a lot of…food, but I…I hated eating.”

  “Brighton.” His voice was still so soft, but it had a rough quality to it that I didn’t want to hear.

  I worked my neck to the side, lowering my hand to my lap. “He just did a lot.

  “Did he…?” Caden’s shoulders tensed as if he were bracing himself. “The healer said you had bruising in areas that concerned her. That there may have been other assaults that happened. Ones that she could not see.”

  I knew what he was asking, and my breath hitched in my throat. Our gazes connected for the briefest of seconds, and I couldn’t hold his stare. Instead, I found myself inspecting the bandage on my arm. “I don’t… I don’t think so,” I said, picking at the edge. “I mean, I don’t remember him doing something like that. Not even when I bathed or—”

  Cold lips against mine. Frigid hands. An image flashed in my mind of Aric kneeling in front of me while I was in the tub. His hand under the water, his icy fingers—

  Squeezing my eyes shut, I held myself perfectly still. I remembered that. I’d been glamoured, and he’d touched me as he talked, as he told me—

  “You don’t have to think about it,” Caden said, drawing me from the disjointed images. “You don’t have to remember right now.”

  “What if I remember later?” I whispered.

  “Then we’ll deal with it then.”

  We? My gaze darted to him. His expression was stark and…violent. A shiver danced over my skin. He’d let go of the chair and had scooted forward on the seat. The arms of the chair looked strange. Was the wood…dented? For some reason, the dress appeared in my mind, the one Aric had me wear. There was a distinct feeling that there was something incredibly important about it—something I needed to tell Caden, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t figure it out.

  Thinking was hard.

  Leaning back against the cushions, I closed my eyes. What if I didn’t remember? What if I did? I wasn’t sure which was worse, to be honest.

  I realized in the silence that I hadn’t thanked Caden, and I had no idea if I’d thanked Ivy when she was up here. “Thank you,” I said.

  “For what?” He sounded genuinely confused.

  “For…for looking for me. For finding me,” I said, fighting the hollowness that was building in my chest. The grief of thinking that no one was coming for me still lingered. “I would’ve died there if you hadn’t found me.”

  “You never have to thank me for that, Brighton. Ever.”

  “Well, I just did.”

  A sound of frustration rose from him, and for some reason, it made my lips twitch. “I wish you never had to doubt that I would come for you.�
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  “Caden—”

  “I wish for you that you never had to spend a moment thinking that no one was coming for you.” His voice was low, urgent. “That you were never put in the position to feel as if you were not wanted or cherished or loved enough that people would not come for you.”

  In the back of my throat, a burning knot formed. I couldn’t hear this now. I didn’t think I could hear it at all. It made me want to cry. It made me want to ask why he was saying these things. It made me want to believe that it wasn’t the guilt and regret I saw in his expression that made him say them.

  “Before I forget to tell you, I think you have a new fan club among the Summer Court,” he said, shifting the conversation. It was obvious that he’d picked up on my discomfort with his super special fae senses, but at that moment, I appreciated it. “Perhaps even rivaling Tink.”

  That sounded unlikely and surprising because I faintly recalled being treated like I carried a contagious disease. “Why?”

  “They learned that you killed Aric. In their eyes, that makes you a bit of a savior.”

  “Ah.” I opened my eyes. “It’s not over, though. Right? Neal’s still out there. Younglings could still be taken.”

  “He is, but he’s not as powerful, dedicated, or smart as Aric. He gets word that Aric is gone—which I will make sure happens—he’ll most likely tuck tail and run.”

  I exhaled a long breath of relief, but just as I inhaled, unease filled my lungs. I didn’t understand why. If Caden were right, then it was over. No more worrying about the Queen returning or younglings being taken. The Summer fae were safe, and so was our world.

  But I couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over. It was only getting started.

  Chapter 16

  “Hey,” Caden called out, drawing me out of my rather foreboding thoughts. “What are you thinking? Don’t say ‘nothing.’ I can tell you went somewhere.”

  I didn’t know how to tell him what I was thinking because I had no idea. As his gaze searched mine intently, it occurred to me that he wasn’t so much questioning what I was thinking, but more if my mind had taken a vacay and left the building. I returned to staring at the bandage. “I’m still here.”

  “Bri—”

  “Anyway, this is good news for you, right? The threat with the Queen basically being over?” I asked. “You can get to doing whatever a King of fae does. You can get married to your Queen.” The words tasted like ash on my tongue, but they also brought forth an odd sense of deja vu. Like there was something more to that. “I’m sure Tatiana is ready to be Queen. Or maybe you’ve already done that.”

  “I haven’t.”

  The flash of relief couldn’t be stopped, and I didn’t even want to acknowledge that. Accepting that I still loved Caden was one thing. Being happy to hear that he hadn’t gotten married was a whole other level of WTFery. “Then you should probably get on that. ‘The Court wants their King and Queen united,’” I parroted back what I knew he’d said to me. Bizarre how I could remember that but still not remember Ren’s last name.

  “We’ll talk about all of that later.”

  My brows furrowed, and the dull flare of pain smoothed it right back out. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “There’s a whole lot to talk about.” He rose from the chair. “But you need to get some rest and get better before Tink gets back and realizes that we all lied to him about you.”

  “You did?”

  “We didn’t tell him that you were missing. Ivy knew that if we told him, he would be out there looking for you. Him falling into the hands of a Winter fae is too much of a risk,” Caden explained, and that made sense. For someone as goofy as Tink, he was incredibly powerful. “We told him that you’d been sent on assignment with the Order.”

  “Really?” I replied dryly.

  “It was Ivy’s idea. Tink believed it.”

  “He’s…he’s going to be so mad when he finds out you all lied.”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Going to be mad at you.” My gaze shifted to him.

  A small, lopsided grin appeared. “I’m the King.”

  “Doesn’t that make you an even bigger target for people to be mad?”

  “Not in my world.”

  I sighed.

  “Plus, he loves me. So, I figure he will direct his anger at Ivy and Ren.”

  “Nice.”

  His gaze flickered over me, lingering on the left side of my face. I had a feeling that side looked particularly messy. Sadness crept into his warm eyes, along with what I easily recognized as guilt.

  “This wasn’t your fault,” I told him.

  “We’re going to have to disagree on that.”

  “No, we don’t. You…” I blinked rapidly as an image of Aric formed. “You didn’t do this to me. Aric said…he said he knew I’d been looking for him.”

  “This wasn’t your fault either.” Caden sat on the bed, planting a hand on either side of my hips, startling me. I tensed as my heart turned over. He pulled back, lifting his hands. “Nothing that was done to you was your fault, Brighton. It wouldn’t matter if you walked right up to him. He did this.”

  “And it’s not your fault either.”

  Caden turned his head. A muscle flexed along his jaw. “I know why he took you. I knew why before I saw you in that tomb, in that…” He trailed off, releasing a rough breath. “I wish he was still alive so I could rip him apart, finger by finger, limb from limb.”

  Part of me thought I knew why, too. That Aric had told me, and it was important. All of it.

  “There is something… I can’t remember.” I moved my head from side to side like it would somehow jar the memories loose. Of course, that didn’t work. Frustration rose. “I can remember things that don’t matter, but I know there is more.”

  “As you begin to heal, your memory should also mend itself.”

  I barked out a short laugh. “I know that’s not always the case. My mom…” I pressed my lips together, ignoring the pain. “She had good days, and then days where it was like she wasn’t there. She didn’t really know who I was or that she was at home. And her memory? It was never the same. Whole years were forgotten, and they only had her for a few days. Aric fed on me…” I swallowed at the blast of heat that rolled off the King. “It was a lot, and there were times in that chamber where I…I had no idea where I was, how I got there, and I’d have to remember who I was. That could happen again, and there’ll be nothing I can do. Even if it’s just a couple of hours, I’m going to lose parts of myself.”

  “That’s not going to happen to you,” Caden swore.

  My gaze shifted back to him. His face blurred. “You can’t say that. You don’t know that.”

  “You’re right.” Caden slowly reached for my hand, and when I didn’t react, he picked it up, holding it loosely in his warm grasp. “But I was wrong.”

  “Really? You’re admitting that you’re wrong? About what exactly?”

  That small smile returned. “I doubted your strength. Instead of forcing you out of the hunt for Aric, I should’ve included you. I was…it doesn’t matter right now what I was trying to do, but none of us should’ve forced you out. That includes Ivy and Ren, and the Order, and any of our warriors. We were wrong.”

  Hearing that meant a lot. It really did.

  “I don’t know everything you suffered, but I know enough to confidently say that very few people could’ve gone through what you did and be here right now. Not only that, to kill him…your only source of potential freedom without believing anyone was coming from you? That was not only strong, but also incredibly brave. The latter is something all of us need to face,” he said, and I opened my mouth, but he continued, his voice rough. “You were willing to sacrifice yourself. In a way, you did. I believe you will heal far better than you fear, but even if you don’t, you will be okay. I will ensure it.”

  He would ensure it? How? He was the King, one I imagined had duties beyond taking care of me if
or when I roamed off in a state of confusion. And besides, he was about to get married.

  MARRIED.

  I doubted his soon-to-be Queen would be thrilled about that, and the last thing I needed in my life was one more pissed-off fae becoming psychotic and gunning for me.

  And I really didn’t need to be reminded days, weeks, or even years from now of why Caden felt he needed to ensure that I was okay.

  Staring at our hands, I welcomed the burn in the center of my chest only because that sensation was a dose of reality. Caden wasn’t here because he felt for me what I did for him. He wasn’t promising to be there for me while I dealt with the consequences of…of what Aric had done. We weren’t partners in the way that made people stick together through sickness and health and all that jazz. What I felt for him wasn’t returned, at least not to the same degree. That much was obvious since he was engaged to someone else. He was here because he felt guilt, because he felt pity.

  And he felt responsible for me.

  It took nothing to see his expression when I freaked out over the glass of water. I squirmed a little, embarrassed.

  Out of all the things I was having trouble remembering, I hadn’t forgotten how he had looked at me before. Even when he was angry with me or we were arguing, he stared at me like he could barely restrain himself from leaping on me and taking me to the ground—or against a wall. I shivered.

  Now, he looked at me with a mixture of pity and horror, guilt and regret, and seeing that sat like a lead ball in the pit of my stomach.

  And that was the worst part about everything that had become of us. I’d gone from respected and desired, even if reluctantly, to someone Caden pitied. I didn’t need time to recover to see that clearly.

  I already saw it.

  Uncomfortable in my own skin, I pulled at my hand, and he let go. I clenched the blanket. “I really am tired. I think I need some sleep.”

  Caden was quiet for several moments. “I’ll be back with something to eat in a few hours after the healer sees you.”

  “You don’t have to. “