The Cursed Fae King: A Sexy Fantasy Romance Series (The Cursed Kingdoms Series Book 2)

by A. K. Koonce

  Two things flicker through my mind: I could get the flower myself. Or maybe we need a better way… What better way is there though?

  But also, Bear didn’t fire Aisha. He didn’t behead her or dismiss her. It seems he reprimanded her. And reminded her of the position she should be doing. Maybe he is trying to be better…

  I look up to find her gaze drifting around. I wonder how much different this room looks from when she stayed here. Assuming she didn’t have that tiny pitiful bedroom when she was engaged to the king. This room is decorated very similarly to her room.

  As I try to view everything through her eyes, a realization strikes me. The thought hits me hard. I have never made this room my own. I’ve never put any effort into making this castle my home.

  And yet somehow, it has become that. This room doesn’t represent me or anything I like, apart from the stacks of books littering a few open spaces. But I cannot imagine myself back on that island or in the Southern Kingdom. My place is here. Even if, unfortunately, at this exact moment that place is sitting next to Aisha.

  She shakes her head and motions for my wrist. I sit straighter, offering my arm for her to take my pulse.

  She presses her fingers into my pulse, pulling away only to open the bag to retrieve a silver tool. Two tiny pieces fit into her ears, the rest connecting into a long tube with a small metal head she presses into my chest.

  Satisfied, she puts the tool away and begins poking and prodding me. I wince every so often at her digging, sharp touch.

  “So I hear the king is mad at you,” she starts, her tone just a bit too happy.

  Goddess, I hate her so.

  “Oh?” I lift my chin. Gossipy bitch. “I hear firsthand that we’re as happy as can be.”

  Lies. Lies. Lies

  “So that’s why he hasn’t answered your pitiful calls for him to join you today?” She presses her fingertips into the space just under my jaw bone, right above the scales on my neck. I pull away as pain spikes. “He isn’t busy, you know? He canceled the few meetings he has today. He has actually been out training with the guards and lifting some weights. He looks damn fine without a shirt. It makes me think of old times,” she says with a wistful smile.

  My heart stops.

  She’s lying. She has to be lying.

  Yet, Bear did more than take his shirt off with me, and we hadn’t even known each other for that long. I roll my shoulders, trying to shake off the nasty feeling Aisha is trying to make me feel.

  Her bloodshot eyes level on me like a ghost looking right through me.

  “What a shame you weren’t good enough for him to keep,” I whisper hoarsely.

  Her eyes flare with hate. “Bear loves me, Syren. I know he does. He is just too noble to admit it.”

  Anger rips through my chest.

  “Really?” I cock my head at her, refusing to drop her fucking stare. “Has he told you that? Have you heard it from his lips?”

  Aisha’s lips curl into a snarl. With a snap, she closes the bag. “You need to up your dose yourself if you want to get to the bottom of this. I’m close to a cure, but if you’re only half sick we won’t truly know if it works or not.”

  “Fine.” I tilt my chin higher, not willing to let Aisha get the best of me even if I’m willingly poisoning myself. Like I said earlier, at least I’m doing something.

  “I’ll leave you to wallow in your misery.” She smiles, a real, happy-to-see-me-in-pain smile.

  “Actually, I was thinking of going for a walk. Maybe to visit your shirtless ex who no longer cares about you.” I shrug her off.

  The small lift of my shoulders infuriates her even more, it seems.

  Good.

  She stands promptly. I give her an exaggerated wave in dismissal.

  As soon as the door closes, I fall back onto my pillow with a huff. I will up my dose, but it is going to have to wait at least a day. She can’t cure me if I’m dead.

  If I die, there is no one left to save this fucking kingdom.

  Seventeen

  A Surprise

  Syren

  Cold nips through the covers, biting into my skin without remorse. No amount of quilts or covers can keep the shivers at bay. Poison works its way out of my system at a sluggish pace.

  The moon shines through my windows from high in the dark night sky. Sleep hasn’t come for me yet. My mind is still stewing over the past few days and the days to come. Little more than a day, and I’ll be walking down the aisle to put on a show for the people. Marrying King Iri may be the biggest event of my life, and sometimes, I’m still not sure if it’s a good thing.

  I crack an eye to watch the two guards lazily scanning my room.

  I bet they hate this job. Watching me sleep. They wish they could be asleep as much as I wish I could be asleep, I’m sure. Unfortunately for them, they are stuck here with me.

  Lying and listening, the careless crackle of the burning fire in the court yard is almost as soothing as the waves that lap against the sandy shores of my island. Footsteps and the pounding of an anxious heart grow louder, approaching.

  Even the guards hear the noise. Both men turn toward the door, seemingly preparing to first evaluate the level of the threat, if any exists at all. Candlelight seeps in from underneath the door.

  One quiet knock. My pulse quickens, my gaze shifting. What could be so urgent that someone would come get me in the middle of the night?

  The door cracks open, golden candlelight flooding my room. I sit up in bed, prepared to put up a fight in my nightgown, if need be. But Bear’s brooding face appears.

  “Bear?” I whisper.

  “You’re awake,” he says, smoothing out his black top. “I, uh, have a surprise for you.”

  “At midnight?” I can’t help but raise my voice like it’s the most outrageous thing he could possibly do. The blush covers fall away from my body as I push myself out of bed. Rest has done me good. My legs no longer shake, but my eyes can hardly lift with how tired I am.

  Bear’s eyes dart from my face to the thin white nightgown hugging my chest before it falls in place against my body.

  “Do I need to get dressed?” I ask on a calmer, more rational tone.

  “No, it’s actually perfect for what we’re about to do.”

  Perfect? This nothing of a nightgown is what he wants me in for this surprise?

  A different sort of thought crosses my mind, and my gaze drifts low down his frame before settling on just below his lean hips.

  “Not that,” he says with a small smirk.

  “I’m a little worried about what we could possibly be doing at midnight in my pajamas, but I’ll try to trust you.” A shiver shakes through my body, and I wrap my arms around myself slowly. “So you aren’t mad at me anymore?” I ask on a small voice.

  “Oh, no. I’m still mad at you. There are just more important matters than my undeniable rage that should be attended to. Are you cold?” He takes a sudden step closer.

  As he nears, I realize what I thought was candlelight is actually a small flame lit in the palm of his hand. Heat radiates off of him and the fire. He drags his palm down my arms, back and forth in the slowest way that makes heat sear right into me. I feel it everywhere.

  Then he pulls back and offers me his hand.

  “Are you ready?” he asks on a subtly sultry rasp.

  Without hesitation, I intertwine my fingers in his grasp. Warmth spreads in delectable bursts of energy up from my hand, to my shoulders, down my torso, and to the tips of my toes.

  “You’re too trusting.” A teasing smirk lifts one side of his mouth in a core-tightening smile. I can smell his attraction to me. Which only means he can smell my attraction to him.

  King Iri doesn’t wait for my reply. Without rushing, he turns to the guards, whispering orders to find themselves busy elsewhere and to not speak of what they’ve seen tonight. The gritty details of this surprise become more curious and exciting with each passing second.

  Alone, Bear leads me through
the halls and into his room. The glow in his palm guides us. I have half a thought the surprise is in his room . . . a kinky rendezvous, maybe? But he continues to the wall where he feels along for a jutting stone and pulls open a door to an even darker tunnel.

  We’re leaving the castle, I realize. In my nightgown? Barefoot, even? I’m not trying to act like a princess, pun intended, but I’m also not trying to cut up my feet on the uneven terrain of Nalerpera.

  I pause. Bear, feeling my hesitance, turns toward me. “I won't let anybody hurt you. Never,” he vows so softly that the tone alone squeezes my heart.

  Never. That single word feels life changing. It’s his voice, and the fact that one word is an entire promise in this moment. It feels like a promise of protection, a promise of loyalty.

  And maybe, just maybe, a promise of love.

  I shiver from the sentiment, but focus on the reality of it all.

  “Should I be worried about that? What’s it like out there now, since they tried to take down the castle?”

  “I won't sugarcoat it for you, Syren. It’s bad. People are rioting, and I don’t handle riots well. We don’t have the men for it. The city is violent and dangerous, and it isn’t a place I want you to be at the moment. But we aren’t going into the city tonight.”

  Carpet turns to rough stone, the fancy details of the castle fading the farther the tunnel takes us away from his room. Wind howls at the other end.

  “Where are you taking me, then?”

  “It’s a surprise, remember?” He winks.

  “How are we getting there then, if you don’t want to go into the city?”

  “We will fly.” Sparks rain down from his shoulders. The burnt smell of fabric fills the air. The fiery light kisses the shadows and illuminates his godlike features. It’s like it shines down on him. As if he’s the only one the light blesses.

  But then, I guess his light shines on me too. He shares it with me as we travel through the darkness.

  In quiet anticipation, I let him take me to the end of the tunnel. Rocks jut out like the wide mouth of a cave that spits us out in a small barren forest. Bear closes his fist, the fire extinguishing in a hiss.

  Black and dripping-in-flames wings spread wide from between his sculpted shoulders. My feet lift from the ground as Bear picks me up and cradles me to his chest. My hands quickly clasp around his neck.

  His nose dips into my hair. Hot breath fans along my skin as he breathes in.

  “Hold on tight,” he says. With a jolt of power, he pushes himself up off the earth and into the evening sky with a mighty pump of his wings. He catapults us into the stars. The cold wind and the heat of his flames is a goddess-like feeling. I feel just like a falling star.

  My arms ache from the way I cling to Bear. Though he doesn’t seem to mind that I haven't allowed an inch of space between us as he gives me a devilish grin.

  Wild, wicked wind tangles my hair and drags my dress up my legs. Smooth and gentle, the material slides up, settling in the dip of my thighs. Bear’s fingertips dig into the skin above my knee the higher the skirt lifts. I grin into the curve of his neck. His hold on me rises a little more. And a little more. And a little more, until he’s nearly gripping the curve of my ass.

  The wind calms.

  Slowly, I feel our descent, and I hear the quiet call of seagulls in the distance. The taste of sea salt is thick in the air. Water. Lots of water, calling for me, calling for my magic.

  It pulls in my chest like a physical thing inside me clawing to find its home.

  Before we can land, I peel my face away from him, spying the moonlit beach and the foaming, crashing waves. A gray speck against the yellow sand of the beach moves and at a distance, I’m sure it's an animal. Though the closer we fly, the more details come into view. It isn’t an animal at all. It’s Miranda, dressed in a neatly-pressed shirt, slacks, and untarnished boots. He looks damn near princely with his hair slicked down to his head and the finery of his clothes.

  “What on earth are we doing?” I ask again, suspicion rising in me as I spy a book clasped between Miranda’s twitching hands. His thumb rubs up and down the spine like he is rolling out dough.

  I swear if they’ve brought me here to sacrifice me to the Goddess, I won't go down without a fight.

  Bear’s hands that are planted almost between my thighs roam up my body, skimming my dress even higher as he takes his time dragging my body against his. I feel every hard ab of his stomach just before my feet touch the ground.

  Maybe this is a different kind of sacrifice.

  The really good kind.

  He takes a small step back from me, watching me with a smile shining in his golden eyes. Under the moon and the shadows it casts, he looks like someone I want to love. Maybe I even feel the strings of my heart tug.

  Without thinking, I bring a hand up to touch his face. He turns into my palm, breathing slowly, even though I can hear the rapid beating of his heart.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask quietly.

  Taking my hands in his, he glances at Miranda, who grins like a fool in return. Bear nods more to himself than to his friend then proceeds lower himself onto one knee. I blink, then blink again. Because what the hell is happening?

  “Syren Stormson. You are . . . impulsive and stubborn. You speak more bluntly than most princesses ought to. And you have no respect for your own life.”

  My lips curl.

  This is not how I pictured this going.

  “But, you’re also generous and strong. You fight for what is right in this world. And your determination to help this kingdom succeed is a blessing. You make me want to be the man I originally set out to be. You make me better.” His hands are hot as he takes mine. His eyes search for answers in my gaze before he’s even begun to ask a thing.

  “Will you do me the honor of marrying me and accepting the union bond as my fated mate?”

  Dancing inside my chest, my heart begins pumping, adrenaline spiking inside of me. Blood rushes to my face, making my cheeks hot. For my kingdom, for my new home, yes, I would do it. For me? I think for a moment.

  “Bear, all my life I’ve never known love. Not in the deep, life-changing way people always speak of. I think even my own father chose to never truly love me. But you make me feel ways I’ve never felt before. Safe, despite the riots. Secure, even with the crumbling walls. Nalerpera is my home now. Iri Hakan, you are my home now.”

  His features change from the nervous crease of worry in his brow to a growing joyful smile. Tightening his grip, he presses his lips against my knuckles.

  “Is that a yes?” Miranda whispers.

  “Yes.” I beam, the edges of my mouth twitching into a sinful grin.

  “Yes, as in it’s your choice, and you want to, not because a witch said it was so?” Bear asks on an empty breath.

  “Yes, it’s my choice, and I want to. Fuck the witch”

  “Well,” Miranda says with an insinuating lift of his red eyebrows.

  I ignore him.

  Instead, I lower myself to the ground, the skirt of my thin gown bunching up against the rocky sands. Carefully, I lean forward, letting our hands drop between us. Bear watches me, licking his lips as his eyes go from my gaze to my mouth with every inch that I close between us.

  I press my lips to his. My entire body reacts with flooding emotions of wild butterflies in my stomach.

  Never, never. My mind echoes the sweet promise over and over again as I kiss him harder.

  I knew how he felt before. I could feel it right from the start. But the way he said that word, it’s when it all became clear.

  Every single bickering moment I’ve ever shared with him holds a new meaning with that one little word.

  I pull back just slightly as I trace his strong jawline with one finger. “Why did you have to bring me out here for all this? You know our wedding day is the day after tomorrow. You would have had me anyway . . .”

  “Yes, but I needed this to be on your terms, too
. Your choice.” Standing, he brushes sand off his dark pant legs and offers me his hand. “And we are doing the wedding here tonight . . . right now. Not for anyone but us.” His smile turns sheepish.

  Miranda hides behind his leather-bound book as he watches us with uncapped happiness. Waves break against rocks where the beach begins, spraying water over sun-bleached surfaces. Scant droplets of water rain down on us like a blessing from Goddess Nature herself.

  Excitement and nerves rise like flood waters inside of me, filling the entirety of my being. “I’m in my nightgown. I’m barefoot. We don’t have a priest or witnesses.”

  Miranda nods as I speak, his eyes twinkling as the two of them manage to have a silent conversation with just a glance of their eyes.

  “It’s white. It works perfectly.” His big hand sears across my hip as he holds me closer to him. “I mean, if you really want, I can get that monstrosity of a hat for you to wear today.” Bear laughs as I shake my head rapidly.

  “Please don’t. What about the priest and witnesses, though?”

  “Miranda wears a lot of hats. He is kind of talented in that way.” Bear tilts his chin toward his friend, who bows low to the ground.

  “You’re a priest?” I raise a single eyebrow in question.

  “You can be anything you want to be these days.” Miranda pauses. “Except a goat fucker. We’ve decided folks lose their head for that one.”

  My lips part without any words whatsoever.

  On my wedding day, let it be known that the words “goat fucker” were uttered.

  Warmth wraps around me as Bear distracts me with the press of his body.

  “Shall we?” Bear presses a kiss to my hairline and gestures toward the beach.

  I look down to find white flower petals create a delicate path though the sand. When they stop, a simple wooden archway waits, flowers thoughtfully weaved around it.

  Did he do all this?

  Bear . . . he did all of this for me?