Rise of the Cinder Fae by Whitney Dean

Author:Whitney Dean [Dean, Whitney]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Whitney Dean

After providing a cold cloth to calm the blotching on my cheeks and eyes, I follow Bart to the queen’s quarters.

Bart knocks on the door and gives me an encouraging smile before dismissing himself with a bow. I inhale deeply and exhale slowly, relaxing my posture and plastering on a carefree smile.

Irina opens the door and lunges for me, pulling me inside to inspect me head-to-toe. “Elora! He kept you for so long. Why?”

Finnian leans against a wall, his head tilted while studying me. I fidget from nerves, convincing myself he can’t know me that well yet.

Irina snaps her fingers in front of me. “I refuse to become a third in this,”—she gestures between Finnian and me—“whatever this is.”

With a fake and breathy laugh, I casually shrug. “He wanted to know how my morning was with Gabriel and went into detail about what will be expected of me with the faeries after I become a princess.”

Finnian prowls closer. “Is that all?”

I’m unable to dissect his tone. “That’s all.”

Irina crosses her arms. “That was a long meeting to discuss something relatively simple.”

I lick my lips. “I kept asking questions.”

Finnian lifts my chin, and I swallow but hold his gaze. “Are you being honest with me, little doe?”

Admitting the truth will bring you more pain, Finnian. “Yes,” I breathe. The lie tastes like ink on my tongue.

“Irina,” Queen Honora says, appearing behind Finnian. “Will you fetch Elora’s dress for this evening? She can bathe and dress here.”

“Can’t Finnian do it?” she asks.

“Finnian is busy,” he replies with a grin, sliding an arm around me.

Honora sighs. Deeply.

“Fine,” Irina snaps. “But just so you know, Elora said she’ll sleep in my wing every night instead of yours.”

I shove a hand through my curls. “Irina!”

She flips her hair over her shoulder and leaves. Finnian pulls me against him with a frown. “Is that true?”

I grimace. “I was upset with you.”

His voice deepens into a toe-curling octave. “I think you underestimate how persuasive I can be.” He brushes his lips across mine. “And I’d drag you right back. Preferably screaming.”

It takes effort to remember we’re not alone, but my lack of breathing spurs him to speak more. “Oh, Elora, if it’s this easy to bring this reaction out of you by words alone, I’m looking forward…”

“Finnian,” his mother interrupts.

I cover my face with both hands while he chuckles and loosens his hold on me. “I’m going, I’m going.” He presses his lips against the top of my head but leaves me with a husky promise in my ear, “You won’t leave my bed.”

I suck in a tight breath when he winks before leaving. But my thoughts of him and the lack of his warmth take me back to the cold room beneath me.

“That wasn’t all, was it?” the queen inquires.

I shake my head slightly.

“Oh, Elora.” She approaches me like I’m a wounded animal. “What did he say to you?”

I close my eyes. “Horrible things.”

“What did you tell him you care about?”

Tearfully, I look at her, unable to say it or tell her the details of what I signed my name to.

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