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

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  “I know.” He placed his hand over mine, gently prying my fingers loose. “I want to.”

  My gaze shot to his. “More like you need to.”

  “That, too.”

  “I’m sure someone else can bring me something. You have to be busy, and Tatiana—”

  “We will talk about that later,” Caden interrupted. “I’ll be back.” Lifting my hand, he kissed the top of it, surprising me once more. “Get some rest.”

  Caden was standing and already at the door before I had the chance to process what he’d done. He stopped and looked over his shoulder at me. “I was wrong about a lot of things, Brighton. Things I don’t expect you to ever forgive me for, but things we will discuss when you’re better. When you’re ready.”

  * * * *

  I really had no idea what Caden thought we needed to talk about. What kind of paper he and his soon-to-be Queen were going to use for their wedding announcements?

  Did fae even send invites?

  I had no idea, but about five minutes after Caden had left, there was a knock on the door, and Ivy poked her head in.

  “Hey,” she said, stepping inside. “It’s Ivy—”

  “I know who you are.” My cheeks flushed as I toyed with the blanket.

  “Sorry.” She cringed.

  “It’s okay.”

  Her face smoothed out. “We ran into Caden, and he said you were awake. You up for a quick visit with me and the doc? She wants to check you over.”

  I nodded. “Sure.”

  Ivy smiled as she moved aside, and the tall female fae entered. My first thought was that she looked like a mortal doctor, white lab coat and all, and even though the four-leaf clover had been taken from me, I could still see the blond female for what she was. Silvery skin and ears slightly pointed. She walked to the bed with the innate grace of all the fae.

  “I don’t think I got a chance to introduce myself. I’m Luce.”

  “Hi,” I murmured. “I’m Brighton.”

  The fae’s pale eyes lightened. “How are you feeling?”

  “Okay.”

  Her head tilted slightly. “There’s no way, with your level of injuries, that you’re feeling okay. No one would expect that of you, and the most important thing right now is that you’re honest with me so I can make sure you are okay. If not, I’m pretty sure our King will have me drawn and quartered.”

  Uh.

  I glanced at where Ivy had plopped into the seat Caden had occupied. All her wild, red curls were pulled back in an impressive bun. Widening her eyes, she nodded in agreement to what Luce had said.

  Alrighty then. “I feel better than before.”

  The fae smiled. “And your pain?”

  “Not bad.”

  “Good. I’m going to check some of these wounds and do a quick check-up,” she explained. “Then we’ll see about getting some real food in you.”

  The exam was rather quick and only a little painful. Sitting up wasn’t exactly fun, and it was only when she lifted the hospital-type gown that I really got to see how the cuts were healing.

  My legs and stomach looked like someone had been counting the days on my body like I had been on the stone.

  When the healer was done, I was sitting completely upright, my feet resting on the floor, focusing on taking slow and even breaths.

  “Everything looks like it’s healing up just fine,” Luce told me, slipping her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. “Actually, you’re healing better than I would’ve anticipated given the number of wounds and the lack of nutrition combined with dehydration. I am aware that can be particularly dangerous for humans.”

  “Luce works part-time in a human clinic,” Ivy explained, apparently noting the way I was staring at the doctor.

  “Just a couple of hours a week,” she said. “Humans fascinate me. Sort of like how I imagine wild animals fascinate zoologists.”

  I blinked.

  Ivy pressed her lips together, expanding her cheeks as she widened her eyes once more.

  Unabashed by the human and wild animal comparison, Luce continued, “Have you had any more nausea? Vomiting?”

  I shook my head and then said, “Not that I remember.”

  “Not since yesterday,” Ivy confirmed.

  “Good. I think we can get some food sent up. Something light. We’ll see how that goes.”

  Exhaling, I nodded again. “Can I take a shower? I really want to wash my hair.”

  “If you feel up to it and keep the wounds on your legs and arms bandaged, I don’t see why not.” The fae jerked her chin in Ivy’s direction. “I do think you should have someone here while you do it just in case you get tired.”

  “I have ample time on my hands,” Ivy offered.

  My gaze shifted between the two women. “When can I go home?”

  Luce’s smile remained firm as she glanced at Ivy. My brow puckered. “We’ll see how you’re doing in a day or so, okay?”

  I opened my mouth.

  “In the meantime, I’ll have some more pain meds sent up,” she moved on. “There’s something else I want to talk to you about.”

  Ivy started to rise. “I’m just going to go see if I can rummage up some food for you.”

  Understanding flared. I knew what the healer wanted to talk to me about. “You don’t have to leave,” I said, and Ivy halted. “I know what you want to talk about. If I was sexually assaulted.”

  Luce nodded. “As you know, there are no diseases that can be transmitted between human and fae, nor is pregnancy common. It’s rare and has to be done without compulsion, but that does not rule out physical force. Even so, it’s still extremely rare, but there are people that you can talk to. Humans I know that specialize—”

  “I wasn’t raped,” I cut her off. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t. I don’t remember anything like that happening.” My stomach soured. “He did get…handsy a few times, but I think he was actually disgusted by humans.”

  At least until the end.

  In the end, I had a vague sense that he’d begun to admire me and had started to view me in a different light, as twisted as that sounded.

  Luce nodded. “There were bruises on your inner thighs and hips, the kind that are sometimes found in victims of assault.”

  Victims.

  I closed my eyes, took a breath, and then reopened them. “When I said handsy, I didn’t just mean in a sexually unwanted way. He liked to hit and kick. Those bruises could be from anything.”

  Luce smiled faintly as she nodded. It was one of those well-practiced smiles designed to make a patient feel at ease. “Okay, but if you happen to remember something, please do not hesitate to come to me or someone else.”

  “I will,” I said, hoping that would be a non-issue. “Thank you for helping me and for…well, making sure I’m okay.”

  Luce left after mentioning that she’d pick up the routine blood work that she’d sent into the clinic soon, leaving Ivy and me alone. Things were oddly awkward between us as Ivy found a pair of loose pants and a shirt that I could wear. Ivy was too smiley and too nice. Not that she hadn’t been nice before, but she was like Positive Polly now, and that wasn’t her.

  “I’m still Bri,” I told her.

  She was in the process of yanking a shirt out of the dresser. Who the garment belonged to, I had no idea. She looked over at me. “You are.”

  “And you’re still Ivy. I’m not like my mom,” I said. Ivy cast her gaze to the shirt. “At least, not right now. Maybe I was earlier. I don’t remember you helping me. Thank you for that. Seriously. And for looking for me.”

  “You don’t need to thank me for that—any of it.”

  Caden had told me the same, but it still needed to be said.

  She lowered the shirt as she drew her lower lip between her teeth. “I don’t mean to act weird.”

  “I know.”

  Ivy glanced over to where I sat. “You know I loved your mother. She was a bit…brash at times, but I loved her.”

&nbs
p; The corners of my lips turned up. “Brash would be an understatement.”

  “True. So, you know when I say this, that I say it with all the love in the world.” Her lower lip trembled. “I don’t want what your mom went through for you. I don’t want to see you go through that.”

  Tears filled my eyes. “I don’t either.”

  She inched toward the bed, balling the shirt in her hands as she sat beside me. “But if you do, Ren and I will be here for you. So will Tink.”

  “That is if he doesn’t turn you all into troll dolls first,” I joked. “I heard that you guys told him I was on assignment.”

  She grinned. “Yeah, he’s probably going to max out my credit card or something.” Her grip on the shirt loosened. “You have a lot of support.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Even royal support, and I’m not talking about Fabian.”

  “Ivy—”

  “Caden nearly lost his mind when I told him that we couldn’t get ahold of you. Pretty sure he actually did lose a little bit of it, and I’m also sure he holds the record for the most Winter fae kills.” Ivy smoothed the shirt. “I know there was something going on between you two.”

  “There’s nothing—”

  “Everyone knows that there is or was or whatever, including Hotel Good Fae.” She slid me a long look. “You know I have my issues with him even though I know he wasn’t responsible for my kidnapping,” she added when I opened my mouth to, well, defend him. “It’s just…when I see him, I remember.”

  I could understand that.

  Unfortunately, it took being kidnapped myself to do so.

  “But he did everything to find you. Nearly tore this city apart. And when days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, I saw what it did to him. We all did. I don’t think he slept more than a few hours a day. Every waking second was spent looking for you,” she said. “Whatever was going on between you two doesn’t seem to be in the past.”

  “It is,” I told her. “He’s engaged. To be married. Like forever and eternity kind of married. Like I said, he just feels responsible and guilty. That’s all.”

  Ivy lifted a shoulder. “All I’m saying is that he earned some brownie points with me, and even Ren.”

  With Ren, too? Wow. That was unexpected.

  And it also didn’t matter. “I’m glad he’s redeeming himself with you guys, but it’s…there’s nothing going on. Not anymore,” I added.

  Ivy just stared at me.

  “Anyway…” I drew out the word. “I just wanted to make sure that you knew you don’t have to treat me like fragile glass. If I break, then I break. There’s nothing anyone can do about that.”

  Ivy held my stare, nodding. “Okay. Now it’s time for me to make sure you know something. If you need someone to talk to, you can talk to me. I know what it feels like to be held against your will. I didn’t go through what you did, but I still understand on some level.”

  And she did. “I know. Thank you.”

  She smiled then, and it wasn’t a weirdly forced one.

  We decided that a shower came first, and then I’d eat something. She helped me to the bathroom, and even though I wanted to do it on my own, I had to lean on her for support. It wasn’t until I was stripped down, and the bathroom was filled with steam that I saw why.

  I hadn’t just lost weight, I’d lost muscle mass. My legs felt like jelly and looked like tenderized meat. My reflection was no better.

  Seeing myself for the first time was a shock, even though I knew it would be bad.

  My hair was a matted, limp mess, slicked back from my forehead, but that looked decent compared to the rest of what was going on.

  I’d been right. The left side of my face was a mess of swollen, reddish-purple hues like I had a plum shoved in the side of my mouth. The left eye was open, but it was more purple than pink, and the lid was so heavy it drooped. The right side was only marginally better, and there was a half an inch split in the center of my bottom lip.

  There was a bluish band of skin around my throat.

  Sucking in a sharp breath, I let my gaze drop. My shoulders and the upper part of my chest were covered in slices, as were the rises of my breasts. Aric had stopped there, moving to my stomach, but I imagined he’d planned to revisit that area.

  Farther down, my flesh was a patchwork of old and new scars. Some of the fresher, redder ones would fade, but the others...

  They’d be there, always. And even if they didn’t serve as a constant reminder, I would bear other scars. Deeper ones.

  “Say it!”

  Gasping, I jerked back from the mirror, clasping my hands over my ears. Aric’s roar was so sudden, so real, I closed my eyes. He’s not here. He’s not here. I could smell it, the roasted meat. Shudders overwhelmed me as my knees knocked together.

  Nausea rolled through me, driving me to my knees. My stomach clenched, and everything I drank came back up, burning my sore throat. I stayed there, shaking as I kept telling myself that there was nothing left in me to throw up.

  “Bri? You okay in there?”

  Wincing, I lifted my head. “Yeah. Just…just getting in the shower.”

  There was a pause. “Yell if you need me.”

  “Will do,” I shouted weakly, shifting back from the toilet as damp warmth curled around me. I let my head fall back.

  “I’m okay,” I whispered. “I’m going to be okay. No matter what.”

  That’s what I told myself.

  That’s all I could do.

  Chapter 17

  Showered and dressed in the soft pants and shirt Ivy had found, I was back in bed, utterly exhausted while Ivy went off in search of food.

  I didn’t tell her about the puking thing because, despite the round of throwing up my guts, I was hungry.

  I had no idea how I knew that when the knock at the door came, it wasn’t Ivy, but some inherent sense told me that it was Caden. A disconcerting mix of anticipation and dread surfaced in me. I wanted to see him, yet I didn’t—the latter for a multitude of reasons, but mostly because I wanted him to be here.

  I wanted him to be here for me, and that was wrong. I knew that, and I still wanted it, which was one of the reasons he shouldn’t be here.

  And the other reason? I knew how he was likely going to look at me. After seeing what I looked like and then throwing up my guts, I really didn’t want to face his mournful gaze.

  Caden entered, and I focused on either his chest or his legs. He’d changed. Gone was the black shirt, replaced by a pale blue one, though his jeans were still dark. Maybe he’d showered, too.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, stopping just inside the doorway.

  “Better.” I fiddled with the bedspread, finding a stray thread and tugging at it. “The shower really helped. Now I just need to get the million knots out of my hair.”

  “Do you think you can eat something?”

  My empty stomach rumbled despite my praying to the porcelain gods for a small eternity earlier. “I think so.”

  “Good.” I saw his legs move back toward the doorway, and then he returned, caring a tray.

  I sat up gingerly. Or at least I started to sit up, but the stiffness around my ribs protested once more.

  “Here.” The King placed the tray on a small table that sat behind the couch. “Let me help.” He reached for me—

  My body recoiled as it had been trained to do when hands that could become claws or fists got too close. I tried to stop it, but it was a reflex beyond my control.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” Caden said.

  “I know.” I closed my eyes and then opened them. “I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t, Brighton. Remember?” His voice was soft. “There’s nothing to apologize for. Okay?”

  I drew in a deep breath. “Yeah.”

  “Do you want me to help you sit up, or do you want to do it yourself?” he asked. “I’m hoping you’ll let me because I don’t want to see you in pain.”

  I glanced at him and saw that all those thick,
golden strands were pulled back from his face, and the whole situation struck me as funny even if I didn’t laugh.

  The King of all the Summer fae was serving me soup in bed.

  Weird.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I told him, lifting my gaze to his face. His expression was devoid of any emotion. “You don’t owe me—”

  “Did you forget that I can scent your emotions?” Caden interrupted, and Christ, I sort of had. “That I know what you’re feeling? That I knew the whole time I was in here earlier?”

  “Okay. Do you want a gold sticker or something? The kind with a little smiley face on it?”

  He cracked a grin. “God, how I missed your attitude.”

  I frowned.

  “I know you think I’m here because I feel guilt or a responsibility to you. I don’t even have to have my ‘super special fae abilities’ to know that. You said it, but I can feel it. Your distrust of my motives, and your fear that I pity you is like burnt rubber.”

  My frown started to increase. “Now I really do feel like I need to apologize for offending your sensitive nostrils.”

  One eyebrow cocked. “I need you to understand something, Brighton. I’m here right now because I want to be. I’m here because I need to be—let me finish,” he said when I opened my mouth. “That need is not drawn from some sense of guilt or remorse. Don’t get me wrong, I feel a whole lot of that, but it is not what drives my actions.”

  “Then what does?” I challenged, feeling the prickle of irritation, which was far better than anything else I was feeling. I latched on to it, wrapping the anger around me like the fuzziest, softest blanket. “You’re engaged, Caden. Something you failed to tell me before you fucked me, both literally and figuratively.”

  “I did not fuck you. Not literally. You did not fuck me.”

  “Oh, okay. What then? We made love?” I coughed out a harsh laugh. “Pretty sure you don’t make love when you’re going to marry someone else.”

  Caden’s jaw hardened. “This is not the time to talk about this.”

  “Damn right,” I snapped, pushing myself upright because arguing while lying prone in a bed really made me feel like I was at a disadvantage. It cost me, though. The flare of pain told me it was time to investigate that pill bottle that had been sitting on the nightstand after I’d stepped out of the shower. “There’s no point talking about any of this at all.”