by Layla Harper
“Ah, I see. Let’s try to stick to the facts, shall we?”
“Well, she started it,” the pixie accuses.
The elf’s mouth opens with indignation. “I did no such thing.”
I’m not sure I can take another hour of this whining and complaining on an empty stomach. We’re on hour four of arbitration already.
Or is it five?
I lost count somewhere around lunch.
When I get my ass out of this chair, I’m going wrangle my sexy husband.
“You are so dead,” I warn.
A dark chuckle rumbles through the bond. “How much trouble?”
“Tie you to the bedpost kind of trouble.”
He sends me a very X-rated picture of himself naked, on his knees with his hands tied to the bedpost, his mouth doing sinful things to the pulsing part of my body currently melting all over my chair.
I shift and cross my legs. “Jesus, Rogar. I’m presiding over two fae with better noses than mine.”
“Then you best get that lovely arse of yours upstairs. Your king has a problem only his queen can solve.”
I clap, halting the chatter immediately. “I have heard enough. We will reconvene in a fortnight. In the meantime, you are both to develop a list of ten reasons why cohabitation between elves and pixies is beneficial to Alfhemir’s prosperity.”
“A-A list?” the elf sputters.
“Yes. A well-thought-out list.”
The pixie buzzes back and forth. “What good will a list do other than waste our time?”
I tilt my head. “You’re entitled to your opinion. Of course, the alternative could be a moon cycle locked in one of our comfortable chamber rooms, together, while I ponder the merits of your case.” I lean forward. “I do have a very busy schedule, you know.”
They glance at one another, dislike marring both of their expressions.
“Very well,” the pixie grumbles. “I can arrive at three reasons, I suppose.”
I like her spunk. “Ten.”
“Five,” she counters like we’re bartering for goods.
“Ten.”
“Eig—”
“Guards.”
The pixie’s mouth drops. Her dark skin pales. “Surtyr’s fires. Ten. I will write ten. Blessed moons, the rumors about you are true.”
She says it with a bit of awe in her voice that makes it especially hard to keep from grinning. I worked damn hard for that reputation.
“Return in fourteen days with your lists. And they better be good.”
They bow.
I signal to one of the guards to escort them out of the castle. The minute the door closes, I jump from my chair and rush to the side door, releasing the remaining guards from duty.
“Have a great night,” I say, waving a hand.
I scratch my forehead and remove the crown from my head, lifting my skirts so I’m not tripping before I get to the stairs leading to our suite.
Rogar has guards positioned along strategic areas in case the castle is ever breached. I nod greetings as I pass those checkpoints and then hurry up the stairs.
Four guards are stationed outside our personal wing.
“My queen. Tough day?” Tormod grins, gesturing to the crown gripped in my hand.
I point at him. “You should have warned me about the pixie.”
He laughs. “My apologies, Your Highness. I shan’t make that mistake again.”
“Liar,” I harrumph, then return his smile and enter our suite.
I hear the laughs and screeches the minute I set foot inside. All the stress from the past four hours flows from my body. I’m starving, but food can wait until later.
I hustle through our modern kitchen with all the bells and whistles a human girl could ever dream of. Not that I spend much time cooking. Why should I when my husband is not only gifted in the bedroom but the kitchen too?
Who knew?
I take a left, passing our comfy family room, and fling the crown on the couch. On the right is a formal dining room we use often to entertain our growing family of friends. We’ve a study with a desk filled with way too much paperwork Rogar and I push off doing until the last minute.
I round the bend and head for the hallway connecting the main living area to the bedrooms. There are five in total, although my sexy orc has designs on adding more.
Currently only two are occupied, and by the noise coming from the door on the left, it isn’t the master tonight.
Swallowing the laugh threatening to give me away, I grip the door handle and slowly push open the door.
I’m met with two roars.
I jump back and gasp, feigning as much horror in my expression as possible. Fae babies have excellent vision.
Tiny giggles sound.
I make a show of stumbling into the darkened room, my hand groping against the wall as if to steady myself.
“Lys,” I command, light flaring into the space.
Rogar leans against the bedpost wearing the wolf-grin that makes my toes curl. Six years and the sight of him still makes my heart skip.
He winks.
“Where did they go?” I say in an exaggerated tone loud enough to trigger a gaggle of giggles from beneath the bed. I’m nearly giggling myself when I add, “They were here a minute ago. They couldn’t have just disappeared.”
Little feet kick out from the bed skirt.
Resisting the urge to tickle Tyr’s sole, I fall into Rogar’s embrace. Warm lips find mine, and I sigh into his kiss. He takes my hand and slides it against his hard bulge.
I laugh. “That’s what you get for torturing your queen.”
“Tough day?”
“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“You did well with the arbitration.”
“Oh yeah?”
He presses a kiss against my forehead. “You make me proud, female. You make me very proud.”
“Come, orc. Let’s get our children to bed so you can show me how much.”
The heat in his eyes is all the promise I need.
I laugh as Rogar wrangles two squirming dark-haired fae children with bright blue eyes and apparently my vocal cords by the squeals leaving their two-year-old bodies.
Together, we go through our nighttime ritual. Rogar had fed and bathed the children before I arrived, so it’s kisses, hugs, and story time.
Tucked in bed with the covers up to their chins, my orc tells them the most captivating tales. I don’t know how he does it, but every night Freya and Tyr—me included—listen raptly to every word he speaks.
As a ruling team, we’ve survived revolts and betrayals. Fae politics is brutal, and the courts… well, sometimes the more things change, the more they stay the same.
We’ve always fought to make Alfhemir a better place, but now that desire is steeped in another to leave a better world for our children. I look at the world differently now.
I look at everything differently now.
My heart swells. There are days where it’s so full, I fear it’ll explode inside my chest.
Rogar closes the book and sets it on the nightstand beside the bed. He ambles to my side, the warmth of his body enveloping mine before he presses his lips to my temple.
“Ready, wife?”
I nod because my throat’s goes tight. My whole world is in this room. I never thought I’d have this life. I dreamed, prayed, and sure, wished upon a million stars, but it took a fae king’s temptation to make it all come true.
Thank you so much for reading. I hope you have enjoyed this series as much as I have loved writing it.
Fae King’s Claim, book 5 in the Court of Bones and Ash series, is coming soon!
Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for following me into this last leg of Rogar and Kyra’s story. Of all the books in this series so far, I worried about this one the most. There were so many instances where my crazy insecurities got in the way, but I wrote the story the way it came to me. I hope it stayed true to Kyra and Rogar and gave you the happ
ily ever after you’ve been waiting for.
You’ll see more of them in subsequent books. I’m excited to see where life takes them!
Gauron’s story is next. The arc for his book has changed a bit from how I originally envisioned it, but the story is taking an interesting spin leading to future storylines I can’t wait to write. These are looking like larger books. I’ll have release info for books 5 & 6 posted soon.
Lastly, if you enjoy the series, please consider leaving a review. It makes a world of difference for an indie author like me.
Thanks so much!
Until next time,
Layla
For updates without joining my mailing list, check out my blog at: http://www.laylaharper.com/laylasblog.htm. Or follow me on Facebook and Amazon for new release notifications.
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Also by Layla Harper
Court of Bones and Ash
Fae King’s Temptation
Fae King’s Hunger
Fae King’s Sacrifice
Fae King’s Vengeance
Coming Soon:
Fae King’s Claim
Fae King’s Throne
About the Author
Layla Harper is the romance pseudonym for urban fantasy author, Lora Andrews.
She loves all things mythical, including arrogant dragons and the furry beasts who rule her cave. She (and her minions) live in lovely New England where she spends her time tackling domestic trials while dreaming up her next swashbuckling adventure.
You can follow her on Facebook, or join her newsletter so she can stress about wowing you with her prose.
Only kidding ;-)
www.laylaharper.com
