Escaping Destiny (The Fae Chronicles, #3)

“Not helping, Demon.”


“Sorry, but I have spent a lot more time in the world that you grew up in than anyone else around you right now, so I will probably understand your anger better. You said we were friends, so this is me being a friend. Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed, and then we will talk. You have had a long few weeks and earlier in the maze was pretty bad. You need rest, if not for you, for the babes.” I stepped back as he pushed his big body into the room and closed the door. He turned and waved his hand over me, cleaning me up, and leaving me in a tiny pink nightie. At my raised eyebrow, he just chuckled.

“I am who I am, Flower. Come, let’s get you in bed. He led me over to the enormous bed and waited as I climbed under the covers. He tucked me in, and then climbed in the bed himself and wrapped himself around me.

“What are you doing?” I squeaked with surprise as his long frame cuddled against me.

”Adam and Larissa are gone, and this is what Ryder would want to be doing rather than what he is dealing with, so shush.” He finished situating us, and I had to admit that snuggling up with a Demon was comforting.

“I won’t stand by and watch him get married to someone else. I will find a way to leave, I don’t care what he says,” I vowed angrily.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less of you, Princess. You did not grow up here, and I’m sure you realize that had you grown up here, you would be a very different person. Go back to everything you have learned about this place and what you have discovered about the Horde. Fae don’t marry unless it is to gain somehow. They don’t really understand what love is, and children are raised in sort of an emotionless vacuum in comparison to what you were raised in. Alazander made the deal with her family to seal a very powerful alliance. Her family is very large and influential in the Horde Kingdom, and this deal made sense at the time, and in our world, time is rarely of the essence. Fae marriages can be agreed upon and take years to come to pass. Ascending to the throne wasn’t the only thing Ryder has been pushing back.” Ristan sighed and continued. “Personally, I can’t stand the family, and I do not trust them. I have yet to meet Abiageal. However, Claire is in this for the prestige and standing it would give her. She and Abiageal share a mother, which was why Cornelius was eager to gift her—at her request. This isn’t something Danu showed me. It is where being a soul sucker comes in handy, though. It is easier for me to see through that shit, so I passed on what Claire was offering. Although, the rest have been sampling since she came to us. She is very good at disguising her true motives and desires.”

“I had wondered why she was so willing to become nothing more than food. She seems to have the rest of the guys thinking she is the shit.”

“Well, she does have her uses.” He gave a little snort. “She showed up shortly after the deal with her family was made, as a gift from Cornelius. Claire said it was so that she would be able to stay with her sister, and Alazander didn’t see any reason to say no.” Ristan made a face. “I think that is a load of crap, even though it is not a lie. Being a concubine to a monarch is a very powerful place to be, even though you may not think so now. Oftentimes a concubine can have more power, affection, and attention than a wife can, and I am pretty sure Claire was trying to get to the position of a second wife or a first concubine. The one that you now occupy, even if it is unofficial,” he said against my ear, as if he was trying to convince me I was important to Ryder.

“So she wants to be the head whore; that’s her deal?” I snapped. “That’s what Ryder wants me to be?”

“The Fae don’t have the same social morals that humans do, so they do not view a concubine as a whore,” he said patiently. “It is typically a place of honor, especially if the monarch does not attend to any other females as often as he does his favorite concubine.”

“It’s medieval and stupid,” I growled

“It is our way,” he said simply.

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