“It’s a given as Deandra will pout until the skies rain tears if the queen refuses the chance to make Carrick stay so Deandra can have a crack.”
My eyes flutter closed and I rub at my forehead, a slight headache forming.
“At least promise me time to talk, and I’ll make you see not all fae are bad,” Pyke says charmingly as he rises from the sofa.
My eyes pop open and I lift my chin defiantly, but admittedly… I’m a bit taken in by said charm. “Carrick says I shouldn’t trust any fae.”
“He’d be right about that.” He gives me a cheeky grin. “For the most part. Oh, and I must have a dance or ten with you. Promise?”
“I make no such promises,” I reply haughtily, but I’m sure he can tell by my amused smile if I have to attend this dreaded event that I’ll at least give him one.
Pyke tips his head back and laughs deeply, his eyes crinkled with humor when his gaze comes back to me. He gives a low, old fashioned bow with one arm across his stomach and the other swung outward.
When he straightens, he tips his head regally. “Finley Porter… it’s a definite pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Frowning, I tip my head. “I never told you my last name.”
“Maybe your reputation precedes you,” he suggests slyly.
This makes me uneasy because we’ve been worried about keeping my abilities on the down-low since it would make me such a huge target. Carrick’s warning rings in my head… don’t trust any fae.
Before I can question him further on just how much of my reputation that he’s privy to and from where he heard such things, the door to the throne room opens with a slow woosh and Queen Nimeyah walks out. I immediately stand from my seat because it seems the proper thing to do.
She glances at her son but doesn’t acknowledge him at all. She doesn’t bother looking at me, but rather turns left and sweeps down the hall in a confident stride.
Carrick comes out next with Deandra plastered to his side, her elbow locked inside his and her other hand possessively on his forearm. She’s laughing about something, but it dies as she sees me with Pyke, her mouth forming into a smirk leveled straight at me before she turns to Carrick.
Even though she’s a tall woman, she still has to go to her tiptoes to press her lips to his lower jaw rather than his cheek. It’s such an intimate move that my gaze averts to the floor.
“Until tonight,” she purrs at Carrick, untangling herself. She nods at her brother with a flat expression, glares at me one last time, and swoops off in the direction her mother went. I watch the scarves on her backside billowing out, indeed exposing bare ass.
When I look back to Carrick—to his credit—he’s staring at me and not after Deandra.
But his attention is quickly diverted to Pyke. The two men stare stonily at each other in a way that makes me feel uneasy.
It goes on for so long, I give a nervous cough, but then both men’s mouths peel into wide grins and they come together, clasping each other at the forearm rather than shaking.
“Carrick,” Pyke drawls with affection. “Been way too fucking long.”
“Agreed,” Carrick replies with equal sentiment.
I’m slightly surprised because it never occurred to me that these men might be friends.
Well, not men. One is a royal fae and the other is a demi-god…
How did my life get so weird?
They release one another, and Pyke nods to me. “I’ve enjoyed my conversation with your beautiful companion.”
“Thank you for keeping her entertained while I talked to your mother,” Carrick replies.
“And what exactly did you talk about?” I ask sweetly as if I’m just the dumb sidekick.
Carrick’s gaze comes to mine. “The queen has agreed to let us travel to see The Scryer as well as give us safe passage back out of Faere. But she is insisting on throwing a party tonight in my honor, so we’re not going to be able to leave until morning.”
My heart sinks a bit, but I can tough it out. I’m sure they can deposit me somewhere comfortable—hopefully with a cozy bed—and I can get some rest for our journey while Carrick parties with his fae friends.
“We’ve got some time to kill,” Pyke says, glancing from me to Carrick. “How about we give Finley a tour of the castle and then we can go see the new gryffin I’m training?”
Since I’m still not sure whether I want to spill the beans that I know Carrick is a demi-god, it sounds like a good idea for us to remain occupied. There’s a reason he didn’t tell me, and maybe there’s a clue within that secret as to why I might not be able to trust him fully.