The Unseelie King (The Kings Book 6) (11 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Minerva moved from one bookshelf to the other, and as she stood at the foot of each one, she craned her neck and looked
up
. And up and up.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, running her hand over her face in bewilderment. She was so lost. She hadn’t been able to keep up with the twists and turns of the palace as Titania had walked her here. The castle was so vast, it was impossible. The gods only knew where the nearest bathroom was, should she need it. To top it off, the library itself, a tiny portion of the castle, was a maze of preposterous proportions in and of itself.

She dropped her hand and turned around in the room, taking it all in. The Unseelie Castle library was a
parody
of large libraries. She felt a little bit like
Belle
from Disney’s
Beauty and the Beast
, gazing up at the plethora of spines with their unreadable titles gilded in gold and other precious metals. There were even ladders. There were twelve of them, in fact, just in this room alone.

The library was actually composed of a large number of rooms, all of them several stories high, and Minerva had yet to explore but two of them. The first had comprised of a wondrous double door entrance. It opened onto a foyer where bits of all of the rooms could be seen, like an endless mansion of magnificent literature that curved off into the distance and went as far as the eye could see. The lighting was provided by pendant chandeliers that hung from a ceiling so high above, Minerva would wager it was at least five stories high. The chandeliers dangled from ropes of what looked like spider’s silk, thin and shimmery. Ever-burning fae candles shed rainbow light and lent a soft yellow glow that was then prismed through endless crystal shards that hung from the pendants, lengthy and lean, some as much as two feet long.

Plush seating arrangements awaited weary bodies and open minds, and book stands waited, with attached bookmarks, for any larger tomes that one might not wish to hold in their lap.

The second room was much the same, sporting the same marble flooring shot through with bits of gemstone and gold, walls of books, and soft, warm lightning.

Minerva decided to move on into the third and give up on figuring out what the actual books on the shelves comprised. Most likely, they were in a language she wouldn’t comprehend anyway. Of course, she could always
wish
to comprehend them….
No, it doesn’t work that way,
she reminded herself.
A Wisher acts in vengeance. Remember?
I can only cast wishes in anger,
she thought as she moved quickly through the second room toward the third room’s arched entry.

An odd, lonely feeling moved through her, and she hugged herself. “Maybe that’s not true,” she whispered, attempting to console herself out loud. But it didn’t help much, and her pace slowed with an oncoming sense of exhaustion.

She had already been on edge. She’d come here to the library to try to think, to have some time to herself, to clear her head and get some things straight. If Titania was right and she was supposed to be the queen of the Unseelie realm, then, well, that would explain a few things. Like why Caliban had been shadowing her and shielding her.

She’d been rather confused about that. It probably wasn’t that he had anything personally invested in her, it was just that he’d be really embarrassed if he lost is queen before she’d even taken her throne. What kind of rumors would be spread about him then? The king who couldn’t keep a fated queen?

Minerva sighed. She could be flippant about it all she wanted, but it was a lot to take in. And something else bothered her, too. Something else Titania had said. It was something … about Minerva being different from the other women Caliban had taken to his bed.

Minerva winced in pain. “Ow,” she whispered, coming to an abrupt halt beneath the archway to the third library room. She’d unconsciously bitten a hole in her bottom lip. “Holy shit,” she hissed. A flood of emotions rushed through her veins, heating them up. She brushed the back of her hand angrily across her lips, and it came away with blood. “
Damn
.”

She lowered her hand and looked around for a box of tissue.

“Stupid,” she chastised herself. “Fae castles don’t just leave tissue boxes laying around.”

Minerva froze and blinked when she spotted that exact thing on a table in the third room, waiting amongst a sea of fresh baked goods, hot tea and what smelled and looked like cocoa.

The third room was much like the first and second, sporting walls that were shelves full of books, soft, cushiony chairs and couches, and lighting that was luxurious and perfect. The only difference was that here, a warm fire burned in a hearth against one wall, and a large coffee table had been set with food and drinks.

She could tell it was all fresh because she could
smell
it. The scent of cookies and bread straight from the oven wafted toward her. And she could see steam rising from the teapot. And amidst all of this, as innocently placed as can be, sat a waiting box of Kleenex.

Minerva frowned at the table. She’d thought she was alone in the library; Titania had assured her it was a private, quiet place. And she hadn’t seen anyone coming or going since she’d arrived. So, where had the fresh food come from? And how the hell did they know to give her a box of tissue?

She hastened to the table to yank a fresh tissue from the box. It wiggled a little in its place, knocking against one of the teacups. Fortunately, the cup was empty, so nothing spilled, but it added to her aggravation.

She placed the tissue gently to her bottom lip to soak up the blood she could feel welling there, then turned in place, her gaze searching the walls for a hidden doorway or evidence of a secret passageway.

“You won’t find anyone else,” came a deep voice.

Minerva went very still, shocked into motionless at the familiar sound of that magic-laced timbre. Then she spun around to face its source.

Lord Caliban, king of the unseelie fae, strolled casually into the third library room, his hands in his suit pants pockets. He looked like he was coming straight from a meeting with shareholders. Not a hair was out of place, he was perfectly shaved, and she caught a whiff of some very expensive, very delicious cologne.

“Other than me, that is,” he added with a smile.

Minerva’s mouth began to water – and that irritated the crap out of her. Not only because it made her feel that she was fate’s plaything, falling right into the path someone else had chosen for her, but because she couldn’t get Titania’s
other
words out of her head.

Just like
he
couldn’t seem to keep other
women
out of his
bed
.

“You’re bleeding,” he said suddenly, coming to a halt a few feet away. His eyes cut to her lip, and Minerva noticed their centers glowed, as if on fire. Butterflies came to life in her belly. “Are you well?” he asked softly. Too softly.

She shrugged. “What do you care?” she asked. She instantly regretted it. She closed her eyes and took a quick, deep breath. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m fine.” She shook her head. “I just bit my lip.”

She removed the tissue from her mouth and crumpled it up in a tight fist. It gave her something else to focus on, which was good because suddenly the endlessly vast library felt a little small.

The Unseelie King watched her in silence for a moment, his expression cold, but his eyes burning in stark contrast. His demeanor was calculating and careful. It was wholly unnerving.

“Titania told me I would find you here,” he said, in that careful tone that suggested he was striding with great vigilance into conversation with her.

Minerva glanced around them at the library and threw up her hands. “It’s some library,” she said helplessly. “Have you actually read any of these?”

“All of them.”

Minerva gawked. “
All
of them?” she asked. Her voice croaked a little, coming out in a half-whisper.

The Unseelie King looked down at the floor as he appeared to contemplate something. He moved further into the room, and his gaze traveled along the shelves. After a few seconds, he stopped before one particular section, raised his hand, and brushed his fingers along a book’s spine.

“A book is a journey,” he said, pulling the book from the shelf and gazing at the front cover. “Each word is a step that carries a reader from start to finish. Not unlike a living being. Long or short, they are the same in one manner. They have a beginning and an end.” He looked up now and strode slowly toward her. “Even so, I prefer the company of books.”

Minerva said nothing. He was coming closer, and all she could think about was how beautiful he was. Tall, dark, and handsome. It was the trifecta of death for any single woman’s will. Add indomitable power and insanely hypnotic magic to the mix, and you would have Caliban.

“But for the occasional exception, books never betray you, they never leave you,” he smiled wryly at her, “and they will never attempt to kill you.” He stopped directly in front of her, and without breaking eye contact, absently tossed the book in his hand to the nearest table, where she saw it land safely and square in the middle.

A thousand fractured thoughts flashed their fragmented way through her mind. Without meaning to do it, and before she could fully realize she was even speaking, she said, “Titania told me that my fae name means I’m supposed to be queen of the Unseelie Kingdom.”

The statement felt like a shockwave. She was stunned in disbelief at her own words. Her breath stilled in her lungs, freezing on the inside and refusing to budge. Her heart, however, ironically pumped faster. So very fast. She could hear it pounding away in her eardrums.

Caliban gazed steadily down at her, his expression inscrutable, his eyes so close that she could now see there
were
actual flames flickering away at their centers. They were mesmerizing, all-encompassing, horribly hypnotic.

“How does that make you feel, Minerva?”

His words wrapped around her, his voice as hypnotic as his gaze.

She made a sound, but when she realized it was incoherent, she tried again. “How… I mean… how does it make
you
feel?”

That was what she wanted to know, wasn’t it? She wanted to know how
he
felt. She didn’t know why. She barely knew him. But he’d gotten under her skin over the last few days, and though she was loathe to admit it, she wanted him to want her. Just like the song said.

The corners of his mouth curled up. “I would have thought my feelings had been made very clear by now.”

Minerva’s head swam, but she was still with it enough to recognize that what he had just said was patently false. If anything, none of his intentions whatsoever had been made clear. Beyond the necessity to stay alive while under attack by some unknown assailant, nothing they’d done possessed any definite direction or plan.

“No,” she forced herself to say. Her voice sounded far off to her own ears. “Not at all.”

That curve in the corner of Caliban’s lips turned up even more, and the flames at the centers of his eyes leapt. “Then I’ve been terribly remiss. Allow me to remedy the situation and show you
exactly
how it makes me feel.”

There was no space to take a breath, no time to fully register what he’d just said, before his power encompassed her like a cocoon. At once, it was clear he’d been holding it back from her, sparing her from its incredible intensity all this time.

Her eyes closed, her body swooned, and strong arms snaked around her like iron bands. His kiss came swift and sure as he claimed her mouth with his and her legs gave out beneath her. His skill was adept; he pushed and she gave, he applied pressure, and she opened for him, and he kissed her deep and long, sending her floating into a sweet oblivion that would forever ruin her for any other kisser in the realms.

Chapter Sixteen

Heat snaked up from Minerva’s belly and spread outward. Caliban’s grip on her tightened, iron-clad and desperate. His body was hard against hers, a steel wall, unyielding and capable, and Minerva was a ragdoll in his unforgiving embrace.

It felt like surrender, that kiss. It felt like she was giving up, giving in, and
accepting
something for once. It should have infuriated her, but it felt
wonderful
.

His lips on hers, his arms holding her close, his fingers spreading across her flesh, curling into her and claiming her, were all terrible and magical and all too powerfully charming. But they were also perfect.

Perfect.
Her mind swam in a kind of bliss she knew was only a taste of what the Unseelie King could offer her. He was only teasing her, breaking her down, promising her that there was more – so much more – where this came from, and he intended to give her all of it.

Perfect.

Wait
…. Her thoughts hitched.

This was
too
perfect.

Minerva knew better. Life wasn’t the type of thing to hand anyone anything perfect. There was always a price to pay, there was always some balancing
monstrosity
. Nature had no regard for wisdom or kindness. Not a single thing in the world could live without destroying some other living thing. Life was a douche-bag.

So, there had to be a catch.

With tremendous will, Minerva placed her hands against the brick wall of Caliban’s chest and pressed firmly. Either he didn’t notice, or he chose to ignore her. The kiss went on, rocking her to her core, melting her beneath him.

It almost silenced her inner voice, but that damn thing prevailed, wailing at the tops of its little lungs. Minerva summoned even more will, and this time she shoved with everything she had. Caliban budged this time, however obviously doing so only of his own free will. He slowly pulled away enough to release her from his kiss. It was devastating to be set free, like waking far too soon from a really hot dream.

It took her a moment to gather her senses and open her eyes. Thankfully, he continued to hold her, his arm a firm band of support against her back, because her legs still felt like jelly beneath her, wobbly and utterly insufficient as support beams for a human being.

“What’s…” she began breathlessly, but ran out of air. She swallowed, took another few shaking breaths, and said, “What’s the catch?”

Caliban gazed down at her through eyes that possessed irises of pure fire. Any hint of amethyst color or green flecks had vanished beneath a conflagration of out-of-control heat.

It scared her.

She was getting used to the surprising nature of magic, and she’d seen a hint of those flames in his eyes before, but now he just looked plain deadly. If he wanted, he could incinerate her with no more than a thought.

“The
catch
?” he demanded softly. His voice was so low, it was almost a growl, and Minerva’s wariness ratcheted up a notch.

She didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to explain her skepticism, her admittedly jaded, but wholly realistic view of the world. And the way he was looking at her stole the rest of her words and held them hostage.

Very slowly, Caliban pulled further away, his arms slipping from around her waist. Minerva steadied herself on wobbly legs, grateful to find they held.

“I see,” he said, the growl seeping slowly from his voice to be replaced with something that sounded a little more reasonable. The flames in his eyes retreated, revealing bits of bright, sparkling purple and glowing green. “You don’t trust me.”

“It’s… it’s not you I don’t trust.”

Oh my God, yes it is,
her thoughts interjected.

But she pushed on. “I don’t trust
this
.” She gestured to the library around her and all of its impossible magnificence. But her gaze traveled beyond the library, far off and wonder-filled, to encompass the whole of the fae realms. “I don’t
understand
it. It’s all too much.” She was reeling from everything that had been sprung on her in the last few days – the last few
hours
of her life. And her body was still reeling from his kiss.

A part of her wondered whether she was really handling everything as well as she thought she was.

“I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” she whispered, turning away from him because it was easier to think with him at her back. “I barely believe it.”

There was a long silence before Minerva heard Caliban’s leather-soled shoes move away from her. She turned around to find him before the coffee table filled with food. He was lifting a decanter from its surface and pouring a light blue liquid into a crystal glass.

He filled it nearly to the brim, then downed half its contents in one swift drink. She watched as he refilled it almost to the top once more, and took another long drink, this time emptying the glass.

He gritted his teeth and stared down at his glass for a moment as if deciding whether or not to have more. Finally, he set the glass down with a rather hard thunk and picked up the decanter to refill it after all. “What can I do to help you accept this, Minerva?” he asked as he re-corked the decanter and lifted the glass.

The way he spoke gave her a chill. His tone was smooth, but icy. Impatient, yet calm. It was a dichotomy of things that left her uneasy. His eyes had nearly returned to their normal purple and green, but for a small flickering flame that remained lodged firmly in their irises, burning away. He seemed taller now than he had before, if that were even possible, and the contrasts of him were more stark.

He was the Leanan King, a beautiful, deadly enigma. And she was treading water with a shark. She should have been scared. So, why wasn’t she?

“I don’t know,” she said honestly, willing her legs to strengthen beneath her. “What if….” She paused briefly before words forced themselves up and out of her mouth and she was powerless to stop them. “What if I don’t
want
to accept it?”

And that was the crux of it, right there. She hadn’t even realized it until she’d given it voice. Her gaze trailed off as her thoughts took over. She was being handed something that every other woman in the world dreamed about their entire lives, read books about, and would fantasize about, but she wasn’t sure she wanted it?

She didn’t want it because she
was
being handed it. She couldn’t stand the idea of following someone else’s rules, or accepting her “place” in the scheme of things. She had never been a sheep. Fate assumed she would just
go
with it, and because she had never been the kind of person who rolled over and let things happen, she was bucking.
Hard
.

There was that. That knee-jerk reaction to being bossed around by life.

There was that…
and
….

There was the fact that the Unseelie King was a playboy who had probably had
countless
women, and who maybe he didn’t even fully plan to settle down after he took his queen! Maybe he was going to keep sleeping around! Some kings had harems, right? They had courtesans and God only knew what else!

If that kiss was any indication, he’d had
loads
of practice, and then some. She’d be damned if she was going to be a notch in his very large bed post.

Minerva came out of her revelatory, somewhat heated thoughts when she realized the air in the room had grown heavy. It was stifling and thick and hard to breathe. She looked up in time to see the fire in the hearth across the room snuff itself out. Slow curls of smoke rose from the logs inside.

She spun at the sound of something cracking behind her, and looked to the windows to watch a hair-like fracture spider-web itself across two of the panes. The temperature in the room was dropping. There was a pressure, too. She felt it press in on her skin, her eyes – everything. It was subtle now, but held a threat of becoming much worse very quickly.

She turned back to face the Unseelie King. Caliban stood motionless beside the table, one hand poised around his glass, the other in his pocket. His eyes were hard and cold.

“I think you’ll find that ultimately, you have no choice in the matter, Moonbeam,” he said icily. He took a step toward her. “You may decide to fight, and you can even run. But eventually, your fate will catch up with you.” He took a drink from his glass, this one not quite as large as the two before it, and continued to come toward her.

She felt his power brush against her like dry ice or frozen fire. It burned. And yet, it was warm, and damned it all, like a born masochist, she wanted more.

“As will I,” he added before emptying the glass for the third time.

He stopped before her and lowered it to his side just before it shimmered in his grip to disappear altogether. He then slid his now-free hand into his other pocket and squared her with a gaze of sheer intensity. “So I will ask you again, and I suggest you give the question some real thought. What can I do to help you accept this and take your place as my queen?”