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

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  Another sharp, piercing stab to the chest as I said, “I don’t love you.”

  “Is that so?”

  I blinked at the response, unsure how to proceed. I didn’t know how he’d react. Maybe argue? Get mad? Sad? The deadpanned replies threw me off. Would it be this easy? If so, did he even really love me?

  It doesn’t matter.

  It did, though.

  Confused and irritated with myself, I took a step back. “I’m sorry.”

  His head tilted slightly. “For what?”

  “Everything,” I whispered.

  Caden’s jaw tightened. “Are you done now?”

  “Done what?”

  “Done lying?”

  I jolted. “I’m not lying.”

  “Bullshit,” he said, and I tensed. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I know there’s something. You’re not telling me something.”

  Ice drenched my skin. “I’m telling you how I really feel—”

  “And I’m telling you that you don’t even believe the words coming out of your mouth. Neither do I. What you’re saying is not what you want.”

  “It—”

  “It’s not the truth,” he continued, the fire in his eyes flaming. “I know it’s not.”

  I snapped my mouth shut as the walls around me seemed to press in. Was it possible that what he sensed of my emotions could betray me that much? I wasn’t sure, especially since I could barely make sense of everything that I was feeling.

  Turning into the coward I didn’t think I was, I said, “I can’t do this right now. I’m really tired and just want to go lay down.”

  Caden appeared as if he wished to continue, but after a moment, he said, “This conversation isn’t over, Brighton.”

  How I wished that it wasn’t. “But it is,” I whispered, and then I walked out of the room, my heart in tatters.

  * * * *

  I’d gone straight to my room and climbed into bed, curling onto my side and squeezing my eyes shut against the flood of tears that threatened to burst free.

  I hurt. My heart hurt. And I couldn’t think about what I’d just done and how incredibly wrong it’d felt. I forced myself to sleep, thinking that would be better than lying awake and feeling what I did now. So I slept the day and night away. I woke in the morning to find a covered plate of scrambled eggs and toast sitting in the chair Caden had occupied. I’d devoured the food by the time Luce showed to check on me. She was pleased and a bit surprised by how quickly my injuries were healing. I’d asked about the food, thinking she’d had it sent up, but she hadn’t. I tried not to think of who had while I asked if it was possible for Luce to pick me up some prenatal vitamins. Already ahead of me, she pulled a small bottle from the pocket of her white lab coat. According to Luce, a pregnant fae didn’t need the extra vitamins, but considering that I was human, and given the lack of nutrition I’d experienced in the early weeks of pregnancy, she believed it would be wise for me to take them.

  I hid them in the dresser drawer.

  After, I’d slept for most of the day, waking once when Ivy came to visit and then again in the late afternoon. The first thing I looked at when I opened my eyes was the chair.

  Caden wasn’t sitting there, but another covered dish was.

  Sitting up far more easily than I had the day before, I lifted the lid and found a warm bowl of soup that smelled of rich, flavorful herbs. There were two slices of thick, toasted bread beside it. My stomach grumbled.

  Did Ivy bring this up?

  Had it been Caden?

  I stared at the food for what felt like a small eternity, just like I had that morning. A sense of unease mingled with the hunger, leaving me vaguely nauseous. Trepidation was acid in my veins. A fine tremor coursed through my arm as I reached for the food. I didn’t realize what I was doing until I caught myself looking around the room, making sure…

  Making sure it was empty.

  No one was here. No one was going to hurt me. Aric was dead. I was safe.

  I still hesitated.

  God, I hated this—hated that I associated food with pain now. Eating was…well, it was a favorite pastime of mine. I loved to eat.

  Cursing under my breath, I snatched up the plate. Creamy soup sloshed over the side of the bowl. I grabbed the spoon and started hauling the liquid into my mouth, not even slowing down to really enjoy it. I shoveled bread in next, chewing enough that I didn’t choke. Every time thoughts of Caden, Aric, of anything began to creep in, I shoved them aside. By the time the bowl was empty and only crumbs remained on the plate, the unease had faded to a shadow.

  I placed my hand on my stomach. I needed to get over this whole food thing. I was eating for two now.

  That thought caused a half-hysterical-sounding giggle and a stunning realization. I wanted a family. A husband. A child. It wasn’t something I’d ever really consciously acknowledged, and it wasn’t as if I believed one needed a significant other or offspring to make a family, but that was what I desired. I wanted to give a child what I didn’t have—a father who was alive and not just present or active in a child’s life, but also there. I wanted to be the mother that mine couldn’t be—at no fault of her own. The realization brought forth a wave of aching yearning for what I wanted so badly but could not have.

  I waited until I was sure my stomach wasn’t going to revolt and then I rose, leaving the room. I already knew I couldn’t just sit in here like I’d done. If I did, my brain would start going down roads best not traveled. I needed to move around—do something. The faint glow of sunlight still crept under the blinds. Moving to the dresser, I rooted around until I found a cardigan. I slipped it on and then made my way to the first floor. I kept my eyes downcast as I passed fae going in and out of the cafeteria and the common areas. Reaching the glass doors, I looked up as they parted. Cool, early evening air washed over me as I stepped out into a courtyard that was so beautiful it often seemed unreal to me.

  I secretly believed that this had to be how the Otherworld looked, at least at some point in time. Tall trees rose up in the deep blue sky. Vines climbed trellises, and a variety of flowers bloomed, unaffected by the chillier temperatures as they scented the air with sweet and musky undertones. Paper lanterns hung from the branches, always lit. String lights crisscrossed over the stone pathway and led to little sitting areas hidden away.

  This was a favorite place of mine, and whenever I visited Hotel Good Fae and got the chance to explore the courtyard, I did.

  Reaching out, I skimmed my fingers over the slick vines. No matter what I did with my own courtyard, I could never hope for it to look like this. Not even when Mom was still alive. Gardening had seemed to ground her, keeping her in this world. If Caden weren’t correct about my mind being stronger due to the Summer Kiss, maybe I could seek refuge in the garden as well.

  God, I hoped he was right. Glancing up at the sky, I prayed that he was. The child I carried in me needed a mother—

  “Lite Bright?”

  That voice. That name. Heart leaping into my throat, I spun around. “Tink.”

  Chapter 6

  Standing several feet back on the pathway, the brownie was in his full-sized form. He was well over six feet tall, and even in the fading sunlight, I saw that he looked different. I’d have to be missing my eyeballs not to notice it.

  His normally shockingly white hair was a dark brown.

  “Your hair!”

  He stood there, arms at his sides, and I knew with his vision, he could clearly see my face. “Who cares about my hair right now,” he said, and then he moved.

  Tink crossed the distance between us, and in a nanosecond, he swept me up. My feet left the ground as the right side of my cheek was planted to his chest. My ribs and the numerous bruises protested the embrace, but I didn’t say a word as I hugged him back just as tightly.

  I’d missed him so much.

  Sure, he could be a handful sometimes—okay, most of the time. His short stay with me had turned into more of a permanent room
mate situation, unbeknownst to me. I was constantly tripping over the numerous boxes shipped from Amazon, he almost always left some sort of mess behind, and on more than one occasion, he’d given me a minor heart attack by hiding while in brownie-sized form under the covers or in cabinets. But I’d missed him.

  Slowly, he lowered me to my feet and pulled back, keeping his arms around me. His gaze searched my face in the waning light. “I didn’t know.”

  “Tink—”

  “I was lounging on the beach, drinking super fruity cocktails, getting my suntan on, and enjoying being treated like the last brownie in this world and any other. And I had no idea.” His eyes glistened. “I had no idea this was being done to you.”

  My chest ached. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not,” he replied softly. “Each time I called and either Ivy or Ren or the King answered, my super-brownie senses told me something was up. But they assured me you were fine, and that the Order had you working on a special project or some shit. I should’ve known better. The Order hardly uses you for anything.”

  “Well, that’s not necessarily true…”

  “But Fabian told me I shouldn’t worry, and he suggested that we stay longer,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “I believed him. I wanted to believe him, even though I knew something was wrong. I was living my best life, and you were fighting for yours.”

  “That’s not your fault.” I gripped the front of his shirt. “They didn’t want you to worry when there was nothing to be done.”

  “I get that. I do. That’s the only reason I haven’t killed any of them, including Fabian. And trust me,” he said, voice hardening, “I am more than capable of killing each and every one of them.”

  I blinked. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Tink wasn’t just an amusing Otherworlder able to change sizes. He was one of the most powerful Otherworld beings alive, who happened to have an addiction to Amazon Prime, Harry Potter, and Twilight.

  “I could’ve done something. I could’ve looked for you. I could’ve found—”

  “No one was able to find me. Not even the King until…until he did,” I said, tugging on Tink’s shirt. “You would’ve just been worrying and—”

  “And that’s what I should’ve been doing. You’re my Lite Bright. I’m your Tink. I should’ve known. And I may or may not punch Ivy when I see her.”

  “Don’t punch Ivy.”

  “Not even a little?”

  “No.”

  “How about a love tap?”

  A sob settled in the back of my throat as I shook my head no.

  “What about when I’m tiny Tink-sized with teeny, tiny fists?”

  I choked on a laugh. “Ren would still skewer you with a toothpick.”

  “I’d punch him first. He’s had it coming since I had to unexpectedly see his junk in Ivy’s kitchen.”

  Another laugh left me. “I’ve missed you,” I said, face-planting against his chest.

  “Of course, you did. I’m awesome.” He cleared his throat. There was a pause, and I felt his lips brush the top of my head. “Fabian told me what really happened when we were about an hour out from here. I almost caused a massive pileup on the interstate.”

  My lips twitched.

  His hands settled on my shoulders and he guided me back. “He said you killed him. Aric?”

  “I did,” I whispered.

  “Is there anything left of his body?”

  “Um, no. He sort of just disintegrated, like most Ancients.”

  “Not even ashes?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “I’ll ask the King.”

  I frowned. “Why?”

  “Because I want to take a shit on his remains.”

  “Oh my God.” I laughed again. “That is so disgusting.”

  “I know. It’s the most disrespectful thing I can think of,” he explained and then led me toward a loveseat that often reminded me of a birdcage sliced open. “Tell me, Bri. Tell me everything you can.”

  As we sat on the thick cushions, and the gauzy curtain draped over the chair rippled in the breeze, I told him everything I could remember. It wasn’t the first time, but there was a sense that the weight was lifting, just a little this time around. It was like letting out a breath.

  “The King is most likely right,” Tink said after I told him about the hallucination I’d had earlier. “Your mind is stronger.”

  “I hope so.”

  “It could have nothing to do with the feedings.” He was toying with my hair. Somehow, it had come out of its ponytail. “It could be that post-traumatic syndrome thing that sometimes causes people to hoard things in their houses.”

  I arched a brow. “You watch way too much television.”

  “But I could be right. You experienced some trauma. Hearing voices, reliving the events is pretty common afterwards, according to Dr. Phil.”

  I stared at him.

  “After I saw Ren’s junk, I kept seeing it. Sometimes, it would talk to me—”

  “You’re a mess.”

  He grinned at me. “Fabian told me something else.”

  “What?”

  “He told me how the King nearly tore the city apart looking for you,” he said, and every muscle in my body tensed. “Wouldn’t give up on finding you. He also said that Ivy told him he’s barely left your side since he found you.”

  I looked away. “You know that I helped him when he was wounded. He felt like he owed me—”

  “Are you forgetting that I saw him kiss you like you were a snack?”

  My cheeks heated. “No, I’m not forgetting that, but you know he’s the King and I’m…it doesn’t matter. Tell me about your hair. Please?”

  Momentarily distracted, he ran his hand through his locks. It wasn’t spiky but fell over his forehead. “Do you like it?”

  “I …I do.” The color matched his brows now, and somehow made him appear more adult. Which was weird, but the darker color suited him. In all honesty, any color fit him. Tink was gorgeous. “It’s just a shock.”

  “I didn’t recognize myself when I saw my reflection. It was strange.” He lifted a shoulder. “I sort of got bored with it, you know? Fabian suggested I should color it, and since I was bored, I thought YOLO, bitches. Fabian did it for me.” His voice lowered. “He didn’t wear gloves. It took days for the dye to fade from his hands.”

  “Oh no.” I grinned. “But he did a good job.”

  “He does a good job at everything. It’s annoying, and I mean that in the best way.” The smile on his face faded. “Lite Bright…”

  “I’m okay. I really am. I know I don’t look it, but I’m fine.” I changed the subject once more. “Where’s Dixon?”

  “Fabian has him. Carrying him around in the sling.”

  I sort of wished I could see that.

  “I know he loves you.”

  “What?” I squeaked, my gaze shooting back to his.

  “He spoke to Fabian before we got here. I don’t know exactly what he said, but Fabian knows his brother.” Tink lightly touched my arm. “He also told Fabian what he did.”

  There could be several things that Caden might’ve told him.

  “He ended his engagement.”

  I closed my eyes. Why did it have to be that?

  “I honestly thought that when I got here, I’d find you with him. So, color me surprised when he told us you were out in the courtyard by yourself.”

  My eyes opened as my lips pursed. I couldn’t say that I was shocked that Caden knew exactly where I was.

  “And here you are, acting like nothing’s going on when the motherfucking King of the Summer Court is in love with you.” He tapped my arm again. “I know you like him. You like him a lot, and you were hurt when he pushed you away.”

  “Things have…they’ve changed. I’ve been through a lot,” I said, hating that I was using what’d happened to me as an excuse.

  “Bri, you’ve been through a lot. But, girl, you’d already been through a lot.
You’re a fighter. You’re a survivor,” he said, and my gaze lifted to his. “What you’ve gone through is terrible. But I don’t think it sucked out your ability to love and the ability to recognize the feeling. Or your common sense.”

  “My common sense?”

  “Yes. Your common sense seems to have taken a vacation,” he said, and my brows lifted. “You have the love and devotion of a King. Granted, he’s not human, but who in their right mind would swipe left on him?”

  “That’s the problem, Tink. He’s the King.”

  “So? That should fall under the pro category,” he reasoned.

  I stared at him. “Do you know what will happen if he doesn’t choose a Queen from his people? I know you do. That’s why you got all quiet and weird after you saw him kiss me. That’s why you tried to get me to understand that he had reasons for pushing me away.”

  “You’re right, but he still chose you. He chose you over his Court, over—”

  “And you know what that means.” I couldn’t hear how he chose me. That wasn’t helping. “You know what will happen.”

  “Is that why you’re saying things are different now?”

  “Why else would I say it?” I admitted, shoulders slumping.

  His gaze roamed over me, and his chest rose with a heavy breath. “You love him, right?”

  “That doesn’t matter.”

  “It’s the only thing that matters,” he responded. “Despite what and who he is, you still fell in love with him. Is that not true?”

  I wanted to be able to say no, and maybe that would be the right thing to do. I needed to get better at saying it because perhaps then I’d believe it. But I couldn’t lie to Tink. “Yes,” I whispered. “But you can’t tell him that.”

  He arched a brow. “You think he doesn’t already know?”

  “It doesn’t matter what he knows or thinks. He needs a Queen, and the last thing he or I need is for someone to confirm how I feel.”

  “You mean confirm what he already knows.” Tink looked out over the darkened courtyard while I debated punching him, but since I’d just told him he couldn’t punch Ivy, I couldn’t turn around and do it to him. “I know what could happen. Sure, the Court would weaken, and they’d be without a King, but that doesn’t mean fae will start dropping dead everywhere.” He sat back against the thick, cream-colored cushion. “It doesn’t mean that the King will become so weakened that he can’t defend himself. It doesn’t mean that you should both sacrifice what you deserve. Love is more important.”