The King: A Wicked Novella

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

  “Say it!” he roared.

  I swallowed hard. “Make me.”

  Letting go of my bruised hand, he grasped my chin, digging his fingers into the skin. He yanked me up onto my knees with his grip. His eyes caught mine, and there was no looking away, no blinking as his pupils seemed to constrict to pinpoints.

  Without the four-leaf clover, I was like any other mortal, fully susceptible to a fae’s glamour, and it took nothing for Aric to seize control of my mind.

  And in a sick way, it was sort of a relief the moment I felt the icy brush against my consciousness. Because then, I felt nothing. No fear. No hate. No dread.

  Nothing.

  “Say it,” he whispered, but his voice echoed throughout me. “Say please.”

  “Please,” I repeated.

  Aric’s smile returned. “Good girl.” Letting go of my chin, he dropped the plate of food in front of me. “Eat.”

  I ate, using my sore fingers to pull apart the cooling meat.

  “When you’re done, you will be bathed,” Aric explained. “You reek of sweat and humanity.”

  Pausing mid-chew, I glanced over at the female fae who remained silent by the door. Was that why she was here? There was a niggle of concern as if the idea of being bathed should concern me, but the sensation floated away, and I resumed eating.

  Once the plate was empty, the female hurried over, placing the tote beside me. She went back to the door, disappearing for a moment only to return with a small army of fae. They carried a copper tub, dropping it in the space between the stone slabs. Water sloshed over the edges, hitting my legs. I jerked my feet back. The liquid was cold.

  Aric snapped his fingers, and the other fae quickly left. Only he and the female remained. He turned to me. “Stand.”

  I climbed to my feet.

  Aric tilted his head, his pale gaze flickering over me. “You’re so much easier to deal with like this.” He approached me, curling his fingers around my chin and tilting my head back. “Which means, this will go so much more smoothly. Because I know the minute I release my hold on you, you’re going to fight this.”

  I blinked slowly as he reached around, unhooking the band secured to my neck. He placed it on the stone.

  “Because I know you’ll find every second of this utterly humiliating, being stripped and tended to as if you are nothing more than a child. I want to see that. The red flush of embarrassment, and the futile attempts to cover yourself.” His eyes closed as he sighed. “It would truly be a marvelous sight to behold. But alas, I fear it would break you, and since you’re my favorite new pet, I’m not done playing with you.”

  He opened his eyes. “Plus, I have important business to do today.” Slipping his hand from my chin, he stepped back and motioned the female forward.

  I stood still, waiting.

  Aric pivoted, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a cellphone. He stared down at it as the female picked up the tote and began taking out items. Removing two pitchers, she filled them with the water from the tub.

  “Undress,” she said, her voice sharp as an icicle. “And get in the tub.”

  My gaze flicked from her to the Ancient’s back.

  The female beside me sighed with annoyance. “My lord.”

  He glanced over his shoulder and, a moment later, he chuckled. “Undress and get in the tub, little bird.”

  I did as he requested, letting the soiled clothing fall to the floor. The water was a shock, stunning me into immobility as the cold shot straight up my legs and my spine. There was no time to adjust. Hands landed on my shoulders, forcing me down so I was sitting. Gasping, I reached out, clasping the sides of the tub.

  The female got to work, working a lavender-scented bar of soap against my skin. The sting against the raw cuts warred with the numbing properties of the frigid water, and eventually, the water won. The smarting pain faded as the female moved to a cloth, dragging it down my arms as she knelt behind me. Quickly, the once-clear water turned murky.

  Aric moved to the other slab of stone, stretched out on it, reclining as if he were lounging by a pool. “Ask me what business I have to take care of, little bird,” he said, looking up from his phone.

  Teeth chattering, I winced as the female dragged the soapy cloth along my back. “W-what business d-do you have to t-take care of?”

  “Well, since you asked.” He returned to thumbing through his cell. “I have a very important meeting with a…certain member of the Summer Court who, like me, wishes to see the return of the Queen. For very different reasons, but reasons nonetheless.”

  My head jerked back as the female scrubbed at my tangled hair, lathering the oily strands.

  “I’m so close to reopening the doorway and freeing my Queen.” Looking up from his phone, Aric glanced over at me just as the female tugged on my hair once more. One eyebrow rose as his gaze dipped. The corners of his lips tipped up. “Do you know how I will succeed? Answer me.”

  My spine bowed as the female guided my head. She picked up the pitcher. “No.”

  Swinging his legs off the stone, he stood and approached the tub. “Obviously, the likelihood of the King having a child with a halfling is slim, but there is one way that the gateway could be opened. The King himself can do it.”

  He dropped to his knees in front of the tub, snapping his fingers. A moment later, he held the pitcher. “But why would he?”

  Shivering, I waited for him to continue.

  He curved a hand around the nape of my neck. “Tip your head back,” he coaxed, and I obeyed. “The King wouldn’t unless he was forced. After all, he would do anything to protect his mortuus. The Summer fae can bring me the King’s weakness, and with that, I will be able to make him do whatever I want.”

  The cold water pouring over my head wasn’t as much of a shock as it had been when I first climbed into the tub, but it still caused me to jolt.

  “And as more younglings and Summer fae taste the Devil’s Breath, the Order will be too busy wrangling them as I force the King to open the doorway.” He picked up the other pitcher, rinsing the remaining soap from my hair. He placed it aside. “When that happens, this world will finally become the Queen’s, and nothing will be able to stop her this time.”

  Drops of water blotted his white shirt as he slid his hand to the front of my throat. “You’ll most likely be dead by then.”

  His fingers followed the stream of water coursing down my shoulders and then lower. His gaze tracked his hand. “Perhaps you will make me a liar. You are strangely resilient, and I have yet to bore of our time together. I’m not ready to silence your screams.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden pinch.

  “You’re surprisingly…pleasantly developed for a mortal,” he murmured, the coolness of his palm branding my skin. “I am starting to understand why the King became interested. Then again, he was, how do I say? Always virile before he was mated to Siobhan. His escapades were rather legendary.”

  The pale gaze remained fixed below my shoulders, as did his hand. “Your skin here is soft. Unmarred. We shall have to fix that, won’t we, little bird?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  Chuckling, he slid his hand down my stomach and then under the water. I jerked at the contact. His smile grew as his gaze finally lifted to mine. He held my stare for a moment and then looked at the female who waited behind us silently. “Finish with her.”

  Aric withdrew, and the female fae did as ordered, making sure the rest of me was clean. Then I was guided from the tub and dried off with a small linen that did more to irritate the numerous cuts than it did to soak up any of the water. A clean slip was tugged over my head, and when I looked down, I saw that it only reached to mid-thigh and offered little coverage or warmth.

  Still shivering, I waited where I had been left as the female went back to the door, and both male fae returned, taking the tub and exiting. Suddenly, I was alone with Aric.

  “Much better,” he commented, lifting a hand. He crooked his fin
ger. “Come to me.”

  I went to him.

  His touch against my cheek was almost gentle if not for the pressure against the tender skin there. “I think it’s time to let you free, don’t you?”

  Unsure, I nodded.

  He bent, picking up the band and securing it around my neck. His eyes caught mine again, and he whispered something. The icy brush of fingers retreated from my consciousness. It was like a retractable leash. Free will snapped back into place with such force that it drove me back away from the Ancient. Slamming into the edge of the slab, I stared at him, gulping air.

  “Welcome back, little bird.”

  Chest heaving, I pushed off the slab. “Fuck you.”

  He smirked. “Oh, how I missed that mouth. But I wished you knew what I missed”—his gaze dipped in a way that made my skin crawl—“most of all.”

  I knew what he missed. I could still feel his hands on my skin, touching me. And what he didn’t realize was that I remembered everything. What I did. What he said. I didn’t know how or why, and while there was a whole lot I wished to forget, I now knew how he planned to free the Queen.

  So I smiled.

  Chapter 10

  Fingers brushed my cheek, drawing me out of the abyss of nothingness.

  “Open your eyes,” a voice beckoned, one painfully familiar. “I need you to open your eyes, Brighton.”

  I knew that deep, smooth voice.

  Gasping, I opened my eyes and found myself staring into eyes a shade of pale blue—eyes and a beautiful face framed by blond hair. I couldn’t believe who I was seeing. “Caden?”

  The King smiled. “There’s my sunshine.”

  My sunshine….

  “I don’t…I don’t understand.” I blinked, thinking he’d disappear, but he was still there when I reopened my lids, those full lips curved. “You…you came for me?”

  “Of course, I did.” He touched my cheek again, his touch so gentle that I barely felt it. “How could I not?”

  Confusion clouded my thoughts as I stared at him. “How?”

  “I’ve been looking for you. We’ve all been looking for you. We didn’t give up on you,” he said, dipping his head. “I didn’t give up on you.”

  Caden kissed me, and the touch of his lips against mine was a jolt to my system. Not because it caused the swollen, torn skin to sting, but because it was like a rush of fresh air. And because it tasted like the sun.

  “We need to hurry.” He lifted his head as his fingers found mine. “We have to get out of here, now.”

  Stunned by his presence and the kiss, I didn’t resist as his hand folded around mine and he pulled me up. I stood on shaky legs, throat burning and eyes stinging. “You…you came for me.”

  “I will always come for you,” he replied. “I love you, Brighton.”

  Tears filled my eyes as I stared up at him. He…he’d come for me, and he…he loved me.

  Caden let go of my hand and went to the door. The hinges creaked as he opened it. The faint glow of dusk crept into the chamber. Inhaling deeply, I caught the faint scent of roses reaching me. He turned back, stretching out his hand—

  Wait.

  His…his eyes weren’t a cool blue the last time I saw them. They were a warm, fiery amber, but his eyes were now blue. I didn’t understand.

  “Come,” Caden urged. “You must follow me. Quick. Before we run out of time.”

  Realizing that he was right and the whole eye thing wasn’t important, I started forward, hurrying toward freedom, toward life—

  Jerked backward by the neck, my feet slipped out from underneath me. I went down hard on my ass, grunting as a bolt of pain jolted up my spine. My hands flew to my throat. Cool, hard metal greeted my fingers.

  “What…?” Confusion swamped me as I twisted toward the stone slab.

  The chain….

  The tether was still there, bolted to the floor, and the chain was still…. It was still connected to the band around my neck.

  Why didn’t Caden take that off? He had to know that I couldn’t leave with it still attached. Rising to my knees, I turned back to Caden—

  He wasn’t there.

  Where he stood was now just the wooden door—the closed, locked, wooden door.

  I fell back onto my ass, my hands dropping to the floor. “He’s not here,” I said to the empty chamber.

  He was never here.

  Realization slammed into me, punching a harsh cry from my chest. Caden had never been here. The door had never been opened, and I was awake. This wasn’t a dream. This was a…this was a hallucination. I lifted a hand, touching my lips. A very real hallucination because I could still feel the press of his soft kiss.

  “Oh, God,” I whispered, curling my hand into a fist.

  Memories of my mom surfaced. Many of them flipping together, forming a whirlwind of the hours where she was utterly detached from reality. Episodes where she spoke to people who weren’t there or when she believed that she was still being held by the fae. All those times when it was like I wasn’t even there with her. When it was like she couldn’t even see me.

  I had just experienced that. A hallucination so real I had mistaken it for reality.

  God.

  It was official.

  I was losing my mind.

  * * * *

  I didn’t know where I was or why…why I hurt so badly. I was cold, and yet I was hot as I lay on my side on a hard table of stone and stared at the still flames across from me. They didn’t even seem real to me, barely flickering. I was in a tomb, that much I knew, and there was a chain secured to my neck. And I hurt.

  My gaze dropped to where my fingers lay limply in front of me. They were covered in tiny, stinging cuts.

  I hurt all over.

  I was also hungry.

  None of these things pointed to anything good.

  I started to shift onto my back but stopped with a wince. The skin there felt raw too, because…because there were cuts there also.

  Disjointed images and memories took form. The glint of a blade. Pale blue eyes. Screams…screams and laughter—cold, malicious laughter.

  Closing my eyes, I inhaled the musty air and sifted through the cotton that seemed to take up space in my head. There was an odd sense of having done this before as I started with my name because that seemed like a good place to start.

  My name.

  I had one. I knew I did. A moniker tied to a past, to memories, to a duty. A name that was often shortened.

  Lite Bright.

  The two words popped up in my head. Someone called me Lite Bright, because my name sounded like that—sounded like light.

  Bri.

  Brighton.

  My eyes opened, and I focused on the dark, low ceiling. Brighton was my name, and…and my friends—I had friends—they called me Bri, but he called me sunshine. A whoosh swept through my chest, twisting with sadness and…and love. Love that wasn’t…returned by him? I saw him suddenly, golden hair brushing broad shoulders and eyes the color of honey set in a face so exquisitely fine that he didn’t seem real. But he was real, and his name was Caden. He was the King, and he’d wanted me…and then he didn’t. The twisting motion inside me returned at the memory of what I knew in my bones was the last night I’d seen him. We’d been together. It hadn’t been planned, because I…I had been angry at him, and he’d pushed me away until he pulled me to him. We’d made love. Or at least I thought we did, but then something…something happened.

  Dampness crowded my eyes, and the back of my throat burned. What had happened?

  “I am honored to become your Queen and serve our Court together.”

  The words returned with a jolt, along with the face of…of the Summer fae who’d delivered them. His chosen. His soon-to-be Queen. He’d made love to me and yet was promised to another who was worthy, a beautiful fae creature—

  I cut those thoughts off as my cheeks became wet. Reaching up, I wiped the tears away. The stinging of my fingers, salt in open wounds, cleared
more of the fog. What had happened with the King wasn’t important now, because I was here….

  It took me what felt like forever to remember how I had ended up here, and even once I did, some of the details were still missing. Like where I’d been when Aric had taken me, and how long I’d been here. It felt like…weeks, but I wasn’t sure if that was the case or not. I slowly realized that more was gone though as my history stitched itself back together, forming a puzzle that was missing pieces. I could remember Tink and his cat, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t recall the cat’s name. I knew who Ivy was, but her last name was just out of reach, as was her boyfriend’s first name. Or was it her husband? I could only remember his last name, but not his first. And saying Owens over and over didn’t magically make his first name appear. I knew there was something important I needed to remember, something that Aric had said, but I couldn’t recall it. I knew who had killed my mother but couldn’t remember when or how it had all gone down. I knew something had happened to me that night too, but that was just outside my grasp. There was more I knew was gone, because….

  Because parts of me were being stripped away, peeled back and discarded with each feeding.

  Was that what had happened to my mom before she was killed, back when she’d been held captive by the fae? She’d been fed on so much that she’d lost a part of herself…and lost touch with reality from time to time.

  Was that what was happening to me each time I had to backtrack through what had happened to remember, each time recalling less and less? Would I eventually stop remembering altogether?

  I shuddered.

  Panic forced me upright, and I ignored how every square inch of my body protested the movement. I let my legs dangle as dizziness swept through me, and the right side of my face throbbed. Gingerly, I prodded at the swollen skin along my jaw. The flesh around my left eye felt the same, and as I stared down at my legs, there were fresh bruises and cuts there, a map of slices and ugly shades of red and purple. I remembered how the cuts had gotten there, but I had no idea why I had the injuries.

  I couldn’t think about any of this. I couldn’t dwell on it. Not when I still had parts of myself, which meant that there was still an opportunity to escape.