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

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  I shuddered. “Luce thinks that the child is already strong-willed and determined to live.”

  Caden folded his arms around me, gathering me close. “I don’t doubt that for one second, not when it’s you who’s carrying this child. I don’t know anyone, human or fae, more strong-willed and determined to live than you.”

  I lifted my head, kissing him again, and for the first time in my life, I felt no fear, no anger, and no worry.

  Both of us had gone through our own hell to get here. We deserved it. Our child deserved it. All I felt was love.

  I was whole.

  Epilogue

  Caden

  Lounging on the plush grass of the enclosed courtyard outside of Hotel Good Fae, I watched my baby girl toddle after Tink. The brownie was, well, brownie-sized at the moment, his translucent wings nearly invisible in the bright, warm sunlight as he zipped up and then dipped down, staying just out of reach of Scorcha’s chubby little fingers. She laughed and shrieked, attempting to jump in hopes of catching Tink, who taunted her by sticking out his tongue and tugging on a half-undone pigtail. With her blond hair and her mother’s eyes, she was a bouncing beam of sunlight.

  Scorcha.

  My damn heart felt like a fist had taken hold of it and squeezed. Naming our daughter after my sister had been all Brighton’s idea, one that had surprised me, but I’d wholeheartedly supported it the moment I got over the shock. The thoughtfulness behind the gesture still choked me up and didn’t stop amazing me.

  I shifted my gaze to the woman behind my baby girl. Every time I saw her, it happened. Every damn time. There was a hitch in my throat, and a sense of wholeness that never failed to render me utterly dumbstruck.

  Brighton’s hair was loosely braided, and several golden strands had slipped free, resting against her cheek and the slope of her neck as she caught Scorcha as she stumbled back in her hundredth attempt to catch Tink. Laughing at whatever Tink said to her, Brighton made sure that Scorcha was as stable as possible on her feet and then let go.

  Brighton had been worried about what kind of mother she’d be, and I’d been right when I’d told her that I had no doubt she’d be absolutely wonderful. She knew exactly when to catch our daughter and when to let her go.

  My gaze swept over her hungrily. Since the temps were expected to rise, she’d donned a gauzy, deep blue dress this morning. One with those silly, little straps I wanted to follow with my fingers, my tongue, and then my teeth. They drove me crazy, especially when they slipped off her shoulders—like now. A bolt of pure, complete, and absolute lust pounded through me. The corner of my lips tipped up as I watched the breeze lift and ruffle the panels of the dress, playing peekaboo with her legs. It reminded me of this morning when I woke, starving for her, and saw the curve of one exposed thigh. Her flesh had looked oh so lonely, peeking out from between the sheets, and I’d been more than happy to reintroduce the lovely expanse of skin to my hand and then my lips. I’d reached the junction of her thighs by the time she woke.

  She was the best breakfast I’d ever eaten.

  Hell. I could practically taste her on the tip of my tongue right now.

  I shifted on the ground, giving myself a little extra room as I counted down the hours to Scorcha’s afternoon nap. I was very, very hungry again.

  Seeming to sense my damn near obsessive perusal, Brighton looked over at me. Our gazes connected as I ran the tip of my tongue over my upper lip. Pink flushed her cheeks as she shook her head at me, but I scented the sharp rise of arousal. It reminded me of roses drenched in vanilla, and it was addicting.

  At least once a day I found myself wondering how in any world I had gotten so damn lucky. And there were still times when I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t worthy of her, our daughter, and the life we were building together, the future that was waiting for us. My time under the spell of the Winter Queen still followed me into my sleep and invaded the most hidden corners of my mind, but Brighton always found me in those moments. Whether at night, where she chased the nightmares away with sweet kisses, or when I fell into sullen silences and she was there to pull me from the grasp of the darkness. Just like I was there when the nightmare of Aric found her. I always reminded her that she was safe. I’d been right about the breaks in reality. She never had another one, but even if she had, we’d be okay.

  We’d be more than okay.

  Scorcha let out a squeal of triumph when she caught Tink’s leg. I winced in sympathy. My baby girl had one hell of a grip. Just the other day, she’d grabbed my nose for whatever reason, and I’d thought she was going to yank it right off my face. And considering that with each passing day, her fae strength grew, it seemed plausible.

  Tink only laughed and shouted, “You win! You win!”

  Letting go of his leg, she clapped happily. “Again! Again!”

  Swooping down, Tink kissed the crown of blond hair and then darted out of her reach. “You won’t catch me again.”

  “Nuh-uh!” Scorcha did her funny little jerky knee run after Tink that was stopped by a loud, lioness yawn.

  “I think she’s going to end up sleeping through the afternoon once it’s her naptime.” Brighton tucked a strand of hair back from her face. “I may end up right with her.”

  Not if I had anything to do with that. I planned to make good use of our alone time.

  The brownie glanced over at me as his wings beat furiously. “You’re welcome.”

  I chuckled. “I owe you one.”

  Tink zipped up, narrowly avoiding Scorcha’s grasp as Brighton’s gaze met mine again. I read the unspoken message and nodded in agreement. We really would owe Tink for today. Since he and my brother had taken over the management of Hotel Good Fae, both were busy, and I didn’t think anyone was more surprised than Tink by his dedication to continuing the success of the safe harbor for the fae.

  “This is great practice, though,” said Tink. “Since I plan on being the Mary Poppins of brownies.”

  “That reminds me. Have Ren and Ivy decided on a name yet?” Brighton asked.

  “No,” he answered. “They’re still arguing between two names, and neither will listen to any of my suggestions.”

  “Did you suggest they name their son after you?” she asked.

  “I did, but you want to know a secret?” Tink hovered far above Scorcha’s head. “I gave them a whole list of names, and one of them was my actual name. They have no idea.”

  Brighton’s mouth dropped open.

  Shaking my head, I wondered if I should ruin Tink’s day by telling Brighton what his actual name was. But as Brighton attempted to guess what it was, and her eyes narrowed in fond annoyance, I decided that piece of information could be shared at another time.

  Glancing over my shoulder at the hotel, it was almost hard to believe just how well Hotel Good Fae was running these days. Things had been a mess after Tanner’s betrayal, with half of the Court considering leaving. If it hadn’t been for Tink and Fabian, I’d have grave concerns about the future of the sanctuary.

  Recently, Ren had suggested that we may be experiencing a welcomed lull in the war against the Winter fae, but the truth was, the war for mankind hadn’t really started.

  The hotel was invaluable to the survival of the Summer Court. Not just because there were so many expecting females now, who were about to usher in the next generation, or the fact that nearly every room was filled. But because the threat of the Winter fae was still very much a concern, one that would not fade anytime soon.

  There were still more Winter fae than Summer. If anything, their attacks had become more violent, commonplace, and senseless. With Aric’s death and the disappearance of Neal, they lacked any true leadership, which was far more dangerous. Numerous Winter fae were doing their best to prove that they were more than capable of stepping up, and that led to even more deaths. Then there was the Devil’s Breath, capable of turning any fae into a monster that needed to be dealt with. Just last week, a youngling had turned and had to be put down.
Neal’s disappearance only slowed the supply of the toxic drink. He was still out there, as was the Devil’s Breath, but finally, the Order was working alongside the fae to discover the source of the supply. There were still Ancients, who I was sure, at this very moment, were plotting how to free Queen Morgana.

  And then there was Queen Morgana herself.

  While trapped in the Otherworld, she wasn’t exactly the most pressing concern, but she was still alive, and I knew she was still attempting to find a way to open the gateway between the Otherworld and this one. Eventually, she would find a way, and that was when the real war would begin, one that would rapidly spread throughout the human world, involving them whether they liked it or not.

  But that war wouldn’t start today.

  Focusing on the here and now, I exhaled slowly, heavily. Content despite what we may one day face, I refused to borrow from tomorrow’s problems. No one could live like that.

  Not even a King.

  So, I watched what was most important to me. Right here, a handful of feet away, was my entire world.

  Well, minus the brownie.

  Although, his babysitting skills were incomparable.

  But Scorcha would one day grow older, no longer just our little princess but the Princess of the Summer Court, and she would become as fierce and brave as her mother. She would be a fighter. The hand that now clutched her mother’s would one day be just as confident holding an iron dagger, clutched in a gloved fist. That, I would make sure of.

  And Brighton was…she was and always would be my mortuus—the most beautiful, courageous, strong, clever and kind woman I’d ever known. How much she meant to me could never have been seen as a weakness, and it never would be again. I wouldn’t allow it. If anyone ever tried to use her or our daughter to control or manipulate me, it would be the very last thing they ever did. And it wasn’t just me who would ensure that. I pitied the imbecile who thought Brighton an easy target. She’d always had claws, but with the birth of Scorcha, those claws had sharpened into deadly points. A smile tugged at my lips as Scorcha almost caught Tink once more. Brighton could take care of herself and then some, but if she needed backup, she had me.

  She always had me.

  Hours later, once Scorcha had fallen asleep and we were finally alone, I stripped Brighton bare and showed her just how beautiful I thought those faded scars were. I worshiped them with my lips and then my tongue, and always with my soul. I kissed her on the mouth and then lower, driving her to the peak of release over and over until my name was a prayer on her lips. Then, and only then, did I roll her onto her side and slide into her hot, tight depths.

  “Fuck,” I groaned, dropping my cheek to hers. I held myself still as long as I could, until the urge to move became almost painful. “I need you.”

  She knew exactly what that meant. “You have me.”

  I did.

  Shuddering, I gripped her by the hip and lifted her onto her knees. For a moment, I was a little lost in the graceful slope of her back and the rounded, plump ass. She was beautiful. Always. I curled my arms around her shoulders, holding her in place as I took what she gave me.

  Love.

  Acceptance.

  Understanding.

  Strength.

  There was no more slow buildup. No more time to play. I moved against her hard, slamming into her, driven by her soft moans filling the room and how she didn’t just take each thrust but met them, riding me just as fiercely as I took her. She felt too damn good. My blood pounded, and I lost all semblance of control the moment I felt her clench and spasm around my dick. It was like losing my mind as I thrust into her, over and over until release found me. It was like lightning streaking down my spine, obliterating my senses. Hell if I knew how we’d ended up on our sides, her in front of me, my front to her back.

  “I love you,” she said, letting her head fall against my chest.

  I smiled against her flushed skin and then kissed her shoulder. “You are my sun. My strength. My redemption. My heart. My everything. My Queen. I will always love you.”

  * * * *

  Also from 1001 Dark Nights and Jennifer L. Armentrout, discover From Blood and Ash and Dream of You.

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  From Blood and Ash

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  Captivating and action-packed, From Blood and Ash is a sexy, addictive, and unexpected fantasy perfect for fans of Sarah J. Maas and Laura Thalassa.

  A Maiden…

  Chosen from birth to usher in a new era, Poppy’s life has never been her own. The life of the Maiden is solitary. Never to be touched. Never to be looked upon. Never to be spoken to. Never to experience pleasure. Waiting for the day of her Ascension, she would rather be with the guards, fighting back the evil that took her family, than preparing to be found worthy by the gods. But the choice has never been hers.

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n and what is right becomes blurred. Poppy is not only on the verge of losing her heart and being found unworthy by the gods, but also her life when every blood-soaked thread that holds her world together begins to unravel.

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  Abby Erickson isn't looking for a one-night stand, a relationship, or anything that involves any one-on-one time, but when she witnesses a shocking crime, she's thrust into the hands of the sexiest man she's ever seen - Colton Anders. His job is to protect her, but with every look, every touch, and every simmering kiss, she's in danger of not only losing her life but her heart also.

  From Blood and Ash

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  Captivating and action-packed, From Blood and Ash is a sexy, addictive, and unexpected fantasy perfect for fans of Sarah J. Maas and Laura Thalassa.

  A Maiden…

  Chosen from birth to usher in a new era, Poppy’s life has never been her own. The life of the Maiden is solitary. Never to be touched. Never to be looked upon. Never to be spoken to. Never to experience pleasure. Waiting for the day of her Ascension, she would rather be with the guards, fighting back the evil that took her family, than preparing to be found worthy by the gods. But the choice has never been hers.