Home > The Summer King Bundle : 3 Stories by Jennifer L. Armentrout(104)

The Summer King Bundle : 3 Stories by Jennifer L. Armentrout(104)
Author: Jennifer L. Armentrout

The darkness of a dreamless sleep slowly broke apart, revealing damp bricks covered by thick, ropey vines. Two torches struggled to beat back the shadows of the…tomb.

My eyes widened as my heart stuttered. Under me, the stone was like a sheet of ice. I jackknifed up, but pressure around my neck choked me. Gasping, I pressed my fingers to my throat. Cool, hard metal.

No. No. No.

I wasn’t there. I wasn’t in the tomb. This had to be a nightmare. Shaking, I looked down at myself, recognizing the faded image of a mound of beignets on my sleep shirt. My gaze shot to where the door to the tomb was located and saw nothing but a void of nothingness. The abyss rippled out. Thick tendrils licked over the walls and drenched the floor, rapidly swallowing the tomb and me.

Wake up. Wake up. I need to—

“Miss me?”

The sound of Aric’s voice in my ear sent a bolt of fear straight through me, and a scream tore from deep within me. I twisted, hands pushing out—

My palms connected with something hard and warm. Aric was never warm. His skin was always cold, his touch painfully frigid.

“It’s me. Brighton, you’re okay.” A deep voice scattered the darkness. “You’re safe.”

Caden.

I opened my eyes, wincing. A bedside lamp had been turned on, casting the room in light that was normally soft. My pounding heartbeat accelerated as I realized that the hard, warm surface under my palms was the white button-down shirt covering Caden’s chest.

Scrambling back to the center of the bed, my gaze flew to Caden’s face. He was right there, perched on the edge of my mattress, several strands of hair falling forward to rest against his cheek.

He didn’t blink as he stared back at me. “Brighton?”

“Yes?” I whispered, disorientated.

His gaze searched mine. “Are you all right?”

“I…I think I was having a nightmare.”

“You were. You screamed.”

“You heard me scream?”

He nodded.

Some of the fog lifted. “How did you hear me scream?”

“I was outside your room.”

I started to ask what he had been doing there, but then it struck me. “You’ve been keeping watch during the night?”

Caden said nothing as he tucked the strands of hair back from his face.

My heart started pounding for a wholly different reason. “Have you’ve been doing that every night since…?”

“Since you lied straight to my face and walked out of the room?” he finished for me. “Yes, I have.”

I jolted. “I didn’t lie.”

One eyebrow rose as thick lashes lifted.

I decided to ignore that look. “Why are you doing that? You’re the King. I am sure there are several fae you’d trust to keep watch.”

“There is no one I trust enough to keep watch—”

“Besides your brother and Tink?” I interrupted.

“I trust them to a certain degree.”

I thought about the sensation of awareness when I was in the courtyard as if he were there. The warring mix of emotion rose again.

“And if you have to ask why I’m the one watching over you, then I don’t think I’ve been clear enough with you,” he added.

Oh, he’d been clear, and I was desperately trying not to see the reasons. Maybe that was why the tiny piece of bitterness slipped out of me. “I’m surprised you’re not busy right now with—” I managed to stop myself from finishing the sentence.

“With whom?” One side of his lips curved up. “Tatiana?”

I looked away.

“I saw you in the courtyard, Brighton. I wasn’t there with Tatiana, but it seems where I go this week, Tanner finds me with Tatiana in tow.”

I kept my face impressively blank. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t even know why I did. And you shouldn’t be here.”

“I know what I should and should not do. Keeping you safe is something that I should be doing.” His gaze lowered. “Checking out your legs at the moment would probably be one of the things I shouldn’t be doing.”

My legs?

I glanced down to discover that the blanket had slipped to my knees, and a whole lot of leg was visible. Flushing, I yanked the cover up. “I see knowing you shouldn’t be doing something hasn’t stopped you.”

“You know you shouldn’t lie to me, but yet you still do,” he replied. “Why should you be the only one who does things they know they shouldn’t?”

My grip tightened on the blanket. “For the last time, I—”

“Did I ever tell you that my mother always knew when I was lying?” he interrupted, throwing me off.

I shook my head. “No.”

“She always claimed that I would look down and smile whenever I told an untruth. I didn’t believe her. Who would smile when they lied?”

“Good question,” I murmured.

“But then I started to pay attention, and she was right. Every time I lied, I looked down and felt my lips curving upward. It wasn’t a large smile, but she was right.” He grinned then as he drew a finger over the sheet, idly tracing a shape. “Of course, since I learned that she was right, I’ve managed to stop doing it. But she could never tell when Fabian lied. Used to irritate the hell out of me.”

Unable to pretend that I was disinterested, I said, “Fabian has never struck me as the type who lies a lot.”

He snorted. “Fabian lied about finishing his studying or where he was when he was supposed to be training or whatever. He lied as much as I did, but it was never anything harmful.”

“Were any of your lies harmful?”

“Only one.” His gaze lifted to mine. “But that was a long time after I learned to conceal a lie, and it wasn’t all that long ago.”

I thought about when he told me that what had happened between us hadn’t been real. My stomach churned as all those terrible, sticky feelings came surging back. And now I was doing the same to him.

“My mother would be so incredibly disappointed to learn how good at lying I’ve become,” he commented.

I dared a quick peek at him. “What happened to your mother? And father?”

“They died during the war with the Winter Court,” he answered, his voice tinged with sorrow.

“I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, but they died fighting for their people. I know both took great honor in that, and I take solace.” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“What?”

“I shouldn’t even admit this. It shows how incredibly selfish I can be, but I…I take solace in the fact that neither my father nor my mother was alive to see what became of me.”

Sympathy squeezed my heart. “What became of you wasn’t your fault. You were under the Queen’s curse. I don’t think your parents would hold what you did while under her control against you.”

“They wouldn’t have.” His eyes met mine. “And that makes it all harder to comprehend.”

“I can understand that,” I whispered.

He was quiet for several moments. “You look so tired,” he said. I didn’t take offense. “Have you been having nightmares?”

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