Heir of the Coven (Daughters of the Warlock Book 3) by Amelia Shaw

Author:Amelia Shaw [Shaw, Amelia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: paranormal romance
Publisher: Tamsin Baker
Published: 2020-06-29T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12.

I HELD MY BREATH, WAITING for the Fae King to continue. He didn’t. Instead, he buttoned up his shirt, his fingers moving with grace and dexterity. It was like he was waiting to say something more, holding me captive for as long as I would allow him to.

I shot him an annoyed look.

He grinned, making sure I saw every single one of his glossy white teeth.

“So, princess... what would you like to see? What would you like to know?” he asked.

I pointed to the girl that still stood at a nearby table, half naked and staring at us.

“Could she, like... put some clothes on?” I asked, shifting with unease. I didn’t want him to know I was uncomfortable, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t concentrate, feeling her stare on us, on me, like she thought I wanted to take the Fae King away from her.

I was already happy with my own Fae, thank you very much. I had no interest in this one.

The Fae King laughed. “Why? Is she... disturbing you?” He emphasized the word, trying to annoy me further.

I shrugged. I wasn’t going to let him shame me for feeling disturbed. I figured honesty was the best policy. “To be honest... yes. She is.”

How could I lie about that since I could feel the blush on my cheeks, the heat on my neck and face?

He shook his head as though amused. “Oh, you young witches. So... fragile.”

“Fragile?” I repeated. Young?

He nodded but didn’t say anything more.

“Ah, how old are you, exactly?” I asked. Why had he called me ‘young?’ Especially when technically, although I was only twenty-three, he looked about ten years older than me.

But I had learnt from the other Fae I’d met, that age with them was not easily identifiable.

“Eight hundred. Or so.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “We stop counting the years after a few centuries. That half breed you’re with... is a baby in comparison.” He gestured to Tavlor with a smirk. “He probably doesn’t know much in many areas, especially areas that might mean a thing or two for a female witch. Tell me, does he please you? Perhaps don’t answer that.”

I tilted my head to the side, ready to play his game. “Why? Because my father’s here?”

“I could care less about your father being here,” he said dismissively. “I just don’t think you would know pleasure if it slapped you in your pretty little face.”

My back straightened and I narrowed my eyes at him. Under his good looks, he was pretty damn ugly.

“No need to worry your pretty little head about my pleasure,” I returned with a sneer. “But, since we’re on the topic, sure, let’s talk about my beaux. Let’s discuss the elephant in the room. He’s a half-breed, sure, but there’s something else that annoys you more than that, isn’t there? He’s more powerful than you... isn’t he... King Ankor?”

I raised my eyebrows as though I was waiting for an answer to my question, though it was clearly rhetorical.

Angry clouds rolled in over the king’s face.

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