Stolen By The Fae King (Mated To The Fae King Book 1)

by Bailey Dark

  My eyes snap open as the thought crosses my mind and I jump away. He hasn’t moved and his breathing hasn’t changed. Blushing, I run from his room and close the door softly behind me. I can’t let myself get wrapped up in a simple kiss like that. It was to break the curse.

  But my body responded to him in a way that it’s never responded to Henry. I felt like a wave crashing to Altair’s shore. Just like last night. I shake my head, wandering the halls to clear my mind. I’m here to break the curse, and nothing more. I have work to do.

  Chapter 11

  Altair

  I open my eyes as the door clicks softly closed and Verity’s footsteps echo down the halls. My heart is pounding wildly in my chest, blood roaring in my ears. I can still feel the soft press of her lips to mine, like a phantom kiss. It tingles.

  I lift my fingers to my lips and touch them, wondering if it was real or just a dream. But I was completely awake, resting, when she entered. It made my heart soar when she sat beside my bed and didn’t disturb me; as if she simply wanted to be in my presence. To be close to me the way I have started to crave being close to her.

  And then the kiss. I felt her hovering over me, smelled the anxiety on her skin. And the desire. I run my tongue over my lips, tasting her. Groaning, I drag a hand over my jaw. I thought that Verity despised me, but now I wonder if it’s all a show. A way for her to fight against her own desires.

  A well of hope and happiness bubbles in my chest. If she could be falling for me little by little, the curse could be broken after all. The door opens and I glance towards it nervously, but it’s only Navi. She closes the door behind her and stands by my bedside, looking grim.

  “What is it, Navi?” I ask, struggling to sit up.

  “Don’t, just rest,” she says. She places her hands on my shoulders and gently pushes me back down on the bed.

  “It feels strange talking to you when I’m lying down like this,” I say.

  She stares at the chair by my bedside. “But not when the mortal does.”

  I cock a brow. “She isn’t my Captain of the Guard.”

  “Ah.” She smiles stiffly. “When the mortal left, she seemed troubled, I wondered if anything happened between the two of you.”

  “Verity,” I say.

  “What?” She meets my eyes, looking startled.

  “Her name is Verity,” I say. “And no, I’m alright.”

  Navi purses her lips but quickly schools her face. I don’t miss the flash of irritation in her eyes. “Good.”

  “I plan to hold a ball,” I announce, a smile stretching across my face.

  She looks up sharply. “Altair, I don’t think that’s wise. The mort- Verity was just abducted. Maaz knows she’s here. We’ll be vulnerable.”

  “In a week. We will have the ball in a week,” I say. “The first in almost a thousand years.”

  “Altair,” Navi murmurs. “A celebration like that would simply risk too much.”

  “Navi, everything will be fine.” I pat her hand. “You more than anyone else know how close to failure we’ve come. But with Verity here, I think we’re making progress. You’ve stood by me through it all, don’t give up when we’re so close.”

  “Yes, Your Grace,” she whispers, slowly dragging her hand out from beneath mine.

  I narrow my eyes in confusion. Navi hasn’t used titles with me for almost two hundred years. “Is it something else?”

  “Would you like anything to eat? I can have the servants fetch some light food for you,” she says, ignoring my question.

  I don’t press her further. If Navi wants to confide in me, she will. I’ve learned to be patient with her, just as she has learned to be patient with me. “Maybe a little.”

  Without another word, Navi sweeps out of the room, the candlelight glinting off the gold in her sheath. My brows knit together as the door closes behind her. Strong and stoic, Navi rarely shows emotions. She’s the one I trust to be there when I fly into a rage. But something is bothering her, of that I’m certain. I need her to focus. With Maaz on our scent and aware of Verity’s existence, I trust Navi more than anyone else to protect Verity.

  When she returns with a broth soup, she doesn’t stay, and I don’t ask her to. Alone, I drink the soup greedily. I haven’t eaten since the disastrous dinner with Fayne. As I drain the last drops of the soup and consider calling for another, the door creaks open.

  I suppress a smile when Verity pokes her head into the room. Her brows are crumpled nervously, but when she catches my gaze, she plasters a look of confidence on her face. I stare stonily at her and set my bowl aside. It clatters loudly but she doesn’t flinch at the noise.

  “What do you want?” I ask, arching a brow as she closes the door behind her.

  She strides towards me, dressed in a simple, form-fitting gown that perfectly accentuates her figure. I drag my eyes over her hips and breasts, pleased when I hear her breath hitching in her throat. Her skirts rustle as she settles into the chair at my bedside.

  Verity holds up a book and waves it at me. “I’m here to read. I thought you might be bored,” she says. She eyes me. “Was I wrong?”

  “Quite.” I toss her an arrogant grin. “I find my own company stimulating.”

  Her eyes dart to my groin before returning to meet my eyes. “I’m sure.”

  I chuckle. “Curious?”

  “Not at all,” she quips, standing. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

  I watch as she stomps to the door, her hips sashaying attractively. When her fingers graze the doorknob, I call out to her, “Wait.”

  “What?” She twists, a soft blush creeping to her cheeks.

  “Read to me.” She raises her brows but doesn’t move. I sigh. “Read to me please.”

  With a victorious smile, she returns to my side. She opens the book. “In the year 532 a great beast roamed the lands. He made his home in the mountains, deep in the dark caves and abandoned mines. He was the only one of his kind and felt very lonely.”

  “Is this a children’s book?” I scoff.

  “I thought it would be simple enough to hold your attention,” she says, snickering.

  “I think you’ll find my attention can be focused for a very, very long time,” I say, my voice low and soft.

  She runs her tongue over her lips and then shifts in her seat and I know I’ve got her. “Then I’ll read the real story. I found it in your library.”

  “Which one is it?” I crane my neck to read the title.

  She angles it towards me. “Runyun.”

  “Ah.” I lean back, smiling to myself. “One of my favorites.”

  “You’ve read it?” She asks, surprise lacing her voice.

  “Verity, I’ve read every book in that damn library twice,” I sigh. “What else would I do with a thousand years of stagnant existence?”

  She frowns, brows furrowing. “I’m sorry. I wish I knew what to do, but I don’t.”

  “Don’t think of it.” I wave a hand. “Please, read.”

  “In the days of the fiercest barbarians and tribesmen, there arose one stronger than all the rest. A young Fae boy named Runyun. He could crush a mountain troll’s skull in one blow with his great hammer. Bloody a Fae warrior’s head with one strike of his bare fist. He ruled over the clans and created their laws. Runyun was the most powerful Fae in all of Alnembra. He had everything. But he didn’t have a woman…”

  Verity’s voice is soft and melodic as she reads the tale of Runyun. I close my eyes, letting the vision of Runyun’s heroic search for a lover flit across my eyes. I was a boy when I first heard this story; told to me by my nursemaid. My father disapproved of such stories, but my mother loved them. And his heart belonged to her, so the tales continued. I sigh, forcing my thoughts to stray away from my dead parents and back to Verity.

  As she reads, her voice grows softer and softer. Or maybe I’m just going farther and farther away. I drift off to sleep as she reads of his first encounter with the mortal maiden. And I dream of Verity. />
  Chapter 12

  Verity

  I tug the waist of the ball gown, frowning at myself in the mirror. The strapless gown is made of teal satin, with heavy beads dotting the bodice and the full skirt. Fae maids laced me into it only moments before, after pinning my hair up in a complicated braid. I pick at one of the beads on the bodice, a large crystal, and wonder if it’s real.

  Altair had the gown made for me. He delivered it to my room himself this morning, when he told me that he was throwing a ball. I try to quell the excitement tingling in my chest. My own wedding would have been the closest thing to a real ball that I had ever gone to, but I never did make it. And this gown is more exquisite than my wedding dress. The color is rich, and the design is simple yet elegant. I never thought I would like a dress with such a heavy skirt, but with my waist cinched so tightly, it looks beautiful.

  Altair is recovered now, just in time for the surprise ball. He healed quickly, but he told me he would. I’m still having a difficult time accepting the fact that he truly is Fae, a fairytale creature. But I’ve seen enough now that there’s no denying he isn’t human. I close my eyes and picture him, what he might look like when I join him in the ballroom. Those hazel eyes drinking me in as a pleased grin plays across his lips.

  I open my eyes, breathing shallowly. My heart is beating quickly, heat blooming in my chest and cheeks. Altair has been on my mind too much lately. I think of him during the day as I study spells and potions, and I visit him at night. I’ve even slept in his room, in the chair beside his bed.

  I bite my lip, smearing the lipstick. I can’t do this. I’m engaged still. Even if I don’t want to be. Even if I never loved Henry at all, I still couldn’t allow myself even the slightest chance of betraying him. And these feelings, the attraction I feel for Altair, are very real. Very real and very tempting. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

  There’s a soft knock at the door, and Navi enters. She’s dressed in her typical clothes; trousers and a leather cuirass. But the cuirass is embroidered with golden threads. Despite her casual wear, she looks stunning. Her green eyes never shift from my face. Music and laughter float through the open door, the only indication of the ball.

  “Are you ready?” She asks.

  I nod. “What can I expect? I’ve never been to a Fae ball. Or a ball at all.”

  She leads me down the hall towards the main staircase, her boots clipping against the stone floor. “Members of Altair’s court will be in attendance, treat them with respect. You may find resistance to your presence from some but ignore it.”

  “Resistance?” I frown. “Why?”

  “You’re mortal,” she says simply.

  I exhale sharply through my nose. “With thousands of years to contemplate existence I wouldn’t have expected to find bigotry among the Fae.”

  “With thousands of years of watching you mortals destroy yourselves and everything around you, you mean,” Navi says, eyeing me.

  “That’s one way to look at it, I suppose.” I narrow my eyes.

  At the bottom of the stairs, she halts. I turn, brows furrowed with confusion. But she simply tilts her chin towards something behind me. “Verity.” Altair’s silky voice rings out behind me.

  My cheeks heat at the sound. I can feel his presence behind me, as if the molecules between us are quaking. I face him and take him in. He’s dressed in well-fitting trousers, tucked into shining leather boots. His jacket is buttoned completely, black and embroidered in gold threads. His black hair is combed back, coifed attractively, and he’s shaved off the ghost of a beard he grew during his week of bedrest.

  “You look lovely,” he says, his voice a little hoarse.

  I run my fingers along my skirts. “Thank you for the dress.”

  He holds a hand out, standing stiffly. “Shall we?”

  I wrap my fingers around his and let him lead me to the grand doors of the ballroom. I take a deep breath, excitement and nerves sparking in my chest. “Navi told me not to embarrass you,” I say.

  “A well-intended request.” He smirks. “But you’ll find I’m not easily embarrassed.”

  The servants at the doors drag them open and then we’re awash in golden light from the crystal chandelier in the center of the ceiling. The music fades softly and Altair steps forward, tugging me along with him. I bite my lip nervously as we enter the ballroom and suddenly hundreds of pairs of eyes are on us.

  “Your King!” A servant beside the door bellows.

  The rustling of skirts and jackets is thunderous as the Fae sweep into curtsies and bows. My eyes widen at the number of beautiful, lithe beings in the room. Dressed in gowns of rich hues and bright colors, all the Fae women could have graced the cover of Vogue. Altair leads me further into the room, I blanch inwardly as all of their eyes rake over me.

  The Fae tower over my petite frame, their intelligent eyes glistening predatorily. I shrink closer to Altair instinctively and his hand slips away from mine to wrap around my waist. He bends low over my ear. “I hope you know how to dance,” he breathes.

  A pleasant shiver runs along my spine as his breath wafts over my ear and neck. “Right now?” I ask, my panicked eyes darting across the faces in the crowd.

  “Right now,” he confirms, spinning me towards him.

  He takes my hand, sweeping me into his arms deftly. I catch myself before I stumble and try to relax into his grip. I took a few dancing lessons before the wedding. Henry wanted to dance properly during the reception, but I never practiced much. Now I’m wishing I had.

  I swallow with some difficulty as the music swells. With a sly grin, Altair slides easily into the waltz, leading me gracefully across the dance floor. I hold my breath, focusing on keeping my feet moving in time with his. His eyes glitter as he watches me, lips twisted in amusement.

  “You look as frightened as a rabbit,” he murmurs.

  “I feel like it.” I grip his hand a little tighter, my knuckles whitening.

  “You don’t have to hold so tightly, I won’t let you go,” he says softly.

  I look away from the crowd and meet his gaze. It’s soft now, gentle even. My heart drums unsteadily in my chest. “I’m not a very good dancer.”

  After a moment his eyes take on the familiar cold, clever gleam. “It’s disappointing really. You have the petite frame of a dancer.”

  “Imagine how I must feel,” I mutter, too nervous to play his games.

  “Get ready,” he whispers.

  I look at him, alarmed. “For what?”

  Suddenly, as the music swells to its finale, Altair sends me into a far-reaching spin. He draws me back to him, and when I reach him, my back is pressed against his chest. We sway for an instant before he gives me a final twirl and dips me dramatically. My hands are slick with sweat, eyes filled with anger and fear. Altair’s face hovers over my own, his hazel eyes darting between my eyes and lips.

  He grins roguishly and pulls me back up. I scowl, but he tuts softly, reminding me that his court is watching. Furiously, I paste a smile on my face and curtsy as the onlookers applaud. Soon, the rest of the attendees file onto the dance floor as another waltz begins. I push away from Altair and stalk to the outskirts of the room to catch my breath.

  I lean against a wide marble pillar, a beautiful earthy tone in the warm light of the ballroom. The opposite wall is lined with floor to ceiling windows, with elegant red velvet curtains draped over them. Flowers in tall vases line the room, and Fae carrying flutes of alcohol wander through the crowds. I close my eyes and wipe my palms on my skirts.

  When I open them, I expect to find Altair in front of me, with a clever remark or an apology. But he isn’t there. My brows twitch together as I scan the crowd. I see him on the dance floor, spinning a beautiful Fae woman in a rose blush gown. She makes eye contact with me and I bite my lip as I see her bright turquoise eyes.

  Jealousy wells in my chest as I watch her head tilt back with laughter. Altair smiles and murmurs something else to her. I prick my
fingers with the nail of my thumb and force myself to turn away. I don’t understand what this feeling is.

  The Fae pay no attention to me as I wander along the fringe of the crowd towards the refreshment tables. There’s a fountain of wine on one and I watch curiously as a Fae man dips his goblet directly into it. I shrug and follow suit, filling my goblet to the brim. I need wine. A lot of wine.

  I sip it slowly, trying to appear delicate and confident instead of the nervous wreck that I am. A man appears at my side, dressed in forest green. He bows sharply and then grins at me. “You must be the Key,” he says.

  “Verity,” I say hesitantly, extending a hand.

  He takes it and presses one of my knuckles to his lips. “A pleasure to meet you, Verity.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,” I say, fishing. He’s handsome, in a more angelic way than Altair.

  “Thalamain.” He smiles. “My friends call me Thal.”

  “Then I’ll call you Thalamain until we become friends.” I lift my cup, half-empty now.

  His smile broadens. “Any friend of my cousin is a friend of mine.”

  “Your cousin?” I arch a brow.

  “Altair,” he says simply.

  My lips quirk into a surprised smile. “Altair is your cousin? I can’t imagine what it was like growing up with him.”

  He laughs loudly, drawing the attention of a few nearby Fae. “He’s always been a little monstrous, believe it or not.”

  “I believe it,” I murmur into my goblet.

  “Do you?” Altair asks, his chest brushing against my shoulder. I grimace, meeting Thal’s eyes. He grins at me, clearly enjoying the moment. “I see you’ve met my cousin.”

  “Altair, good to see you,” Thal says, reaching for Altair.

  They embrace, clapping each other on the back. “And you.” Altair grins and ruffle Thal’s long black hair. “You look like a rogue.”

  “What can I say, the women seem to find it charming,” Thal says wickedly. He grows serious, gripping Altair’s arm tightly. “It is good to see you, cousin. It’s been too long.”