Heir of the Coven (Daughters of the Warlock 3)

“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. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. He snorted and moved too quickly as he paced in front of his throne.

Oh, my god. I’m right!

I refrained from doing a little dance of happiness. I had taken a shot in the dark and I hit my mark dead on.

Tavlor truly had inherited the best of both races. No wonder neither the Fae nor the Warlocks liked him. He was genuine proof that our people would be stronger if we bred together.

Then the cloud of anger disappeared, and the king began to laugh. Like, really laugh. The way my sister Courtney did. With full acceptance of the situation and the fact you may look a fool.

He sat down, then moved to the edge of his large throne and looked down at us.

His gaze moved to my lover.

“Tavlor, how... how have you found someone like this in such a short amount of time?” he asked. It almost sounded as though he knew Tavlor, but I couldn’t be sure if that was just the king being arrogant or the two did have some sort of history together. “Despite my long life... I have not known this type of... devotion.” He waved at hand to gesture to me and shook his head as though in disbelief.

I glanced at Tavlor, who didn’t move. And didn’t speak. But I could feel the pride he felt from the king’s words.

I turned back to the king who was shaking his head and laughing still. I felt myself relax. There did not seem to be an animosity, at least, not right now. That could change, but for now, it seemed okay.

“All right. You need to see my kingdom. Let us go.” He stood up and one of the male servants came forward. The king grabbed the large black cloak the servant offered to him.

“Come with me, my dear,” the King said, offering me his arm as he sauntered towards us. “I’m sure neither of your escorts will object.”