Chapter 14

FOURTEEN

Cassia

My body goes stiff the moment I lay eyes on Prince Forrest. The giant man is wearing a green shirt that brings out the startling color of his eyes even more and brown pants so tight my gaze starts to slide south before I force it back higher. Damn these sexy princes. When I'm around them, I sometimes feel like they've been handcrafted to tempt my logic.

Unfortunately for them, I have the willpower of a mean old woman who snagged the last loaf of bread.

I'm not in the mood for him right now. No getting-to-know-your-mate bullshit is happening today. Getting out of my quadruple engagement tops my list, if I can do it without ruining my family.

"What do you want?" I ask, making the annoyance in my voice obvious.

Prince Forrest's gaze travels up my body, and a satisfied smile grows on his face. Which is more than a little annoying. Hasn't anyone ever explained the difference between confident and cocky to the little shit? Apparently not.

He strides into the house while I follow him, my inner voice screaming to avoid this whole mess. But it's just too much. I have to figure out what new game he's playing. Without looking back at me, he takes in the living room, doing a full 360 turn. It's like he's on some exciting tour. That's right, the fae prince has probably never been in a human hovel before.

How wonderful for him.

"So, you grew up here?" he asks.

Ask a stupid question…

"No, this is my vacation home," I answer, glaring at him.

He chuckles. "You have a smart mouth." I hate that I like the way his lips twitch when he laughs.

"We finally agree on something."

He runs his hand along the wall where there's an outline of the couch, touches spots where pictures have been removed, and studies the hard dirt floor. I kind of wonder if it's some kind of fae trick. Does he have the abilities of the Memory Fae? Is he pulling memories out of the walls?

"Why are you here?"

His smile fades, probably because the question came out a little more harshly than I intended. "You're my mate, and I wanted to get to know you."

"What if I don't want to get to know you?" I try to decipher his response, but he ignores my question and looks past me.

"Do you cook?" he asks as he moves to the kitchen and begins opening the cabinets even though they're empty .

"I'm sure you don't cook because you've been catered to your whole life." I glare, thinking about all the fancy meals I've brought to the fae in my previous career as maid to the fae.

Meals that were often wasted.

He shrugs. "You're right. Other than cooking meat over a fire, I don't know anything about cooking. You?" he asks, repeating the question.

This boy is getting under my skin. "Is that what you're looking for in a mate?"

He smirks. "My wife won't ever cook unless she wants to cook, which brings me to my question…"

I sigh, deciding it'd be better to answer his damn question than continue going around in circles. "No, my grandmother cooked. I earned the money, though we barely ever had enough food to eat, so there wasn't much of an opportunity or time for me to learn to cook."

He cocks his head to the side and stares at me as if trying to tell if I'm being serious. Then, his green eyes widen with shock. Is he just now realizing some people are poor? I try not to laugh at the pampered prince who can't even be bothered to understand everyone's life isn't like his.

"Is that really so unbelievable to you? That people go hungry?" I accuse.

To my surprise, he shakes his head. "It's just that people in the Fall Court never go hungry because everyone hunts. Kids hunt animals before they speak their first words. Don't you know how to hunt?"

"No." But hearing him speak, I wish I did.

"If you lived in the Fall Court, you'd have food. Human or not, we make sure everyone is fed. It's one of the ways we're less savage than the Summer Court, despite what they claim." He says this as an unquestionable fact.

I speak without thinking. "Maybe I should move there."

He grins at me. "You're about to be their queen. You can be there whenever you want. Hell, I could teach you to hunt, if you'd like." Then he walks away from me and into my bedroom.

Hunt? Fuck. I actually think I'd like to learn a skill like that, so I'd never be dependent on anyone again for food. And I kind of like it that he offered to teach me. If he's serious.

I follow him, unsure what else to do. This big fae prince should not be in my tiny home, and he shouldn't be using his charms to get into my head.

Everything inside of me clenches when he sits on my bed, and my bedroom suddenly seems far too small. I don't like being alone with him or having him in my space, especially when he spreads his big legs and leans back, as if making himself comfortable on my lumpy mattress.

He looks good with the sunlight streaming over from the window, his auburn locks loose about his shoulders and his sun-kissed skin looking good enough to lick. If a human man, without any complications, came into my room looking like this, I'd have no choice but to pin him down and have my way with him.

As it stands, my cheeks burn, and I try to think of what to do with the same man, but in our complicated situation. Do not reach into his pants and see what he's packing. Do not reach into his pants and see what he's packing .

"So, this is your room?" he asks with a nod, drawing me out of my dirty thoughts.

"What makes you think that?" I try not to sound defensive and fail.

He grins, completely ignoring my tone. "It smells like you."

I try to decide if he's insulting me, but he's just sitting, casual as hell, so I play along. "What exactly do I smell like?"

He doesn't miss a beat. "Vanilla and sex."

"Vanilla and sex?" I ask, my tone bordering on outraged.

He cocks his head, giving me another look that heats my blood. "It's fucking intoxicating."

I feel my nipples harden and cross my hands over my chest, regretting my question. "You know, this whole hot, cocky fae prince does nothing for me."

"Then what does do something for you?" He's serious.

My cheeks feel hot. "None of your business."

"You know," he draws out the words, "I'm going to figure out what turns you on, and I'm going to do it. Over and over until you want something else, and then I'm going to give that to you too. You might have four husbands, but you'll want for nothing from me."

The room is so hot that I have to stop from fanning myself. "And what if I want more than all this… sexual crap?"

He smirks. "Then tell me what you want, and I'll make sure you have it."

"Just like that?" I ask, incredulously.

"Just like that," he repeats with utter confidence.

I hate that he makes all of this sound so easy. Like being married to four spoiled princes is going to be simple. Just me spreading my legs when they want, and spending the rest of my time being adored by them.

Come on. That's not life. Life is thinking something good will happen and having it dashed away. Life is trusting someone and watching them shatter your trust. I'd walked this road a thousand times as a young, desperate girl trying to provide for my family.

If I hadn't become a maid… I shiver. There were few uses for a young girl, and the world made that very clear to me.

Hell, even going to town trading taught me about the world. When people knew my grandmother was no longer making money, they offered me the bare minimum, knowing I had no other options. You'd think people my grandmother had been kind to, had paid, and had known would be kinder.

But, fuck, the world is harsh. These princes will be just as harsh, and they can't convince me otherwise.

"I won't be your queen or their queen. I'm not going through with it."

"What's the one thing you want for yourself?" He answers me with a question of his own, his gaze intense.

"I've never had time to think about it, but I know it's not four husbands." There. That should shut him up.

"Why haven't you had time to think about it?" he asks, skipping completely over my rejection.

I sigh, annoyed again that he can't understand what it's like to be poor or human. "I've been too worried about ensuring my family's survival. I don't have time to dream. Dreaming is a privilege bestowed on very few humans. We serve and we survive. "

"So you really have nothing you can think of that you want?" he asks, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Nope." I shake my head. "What about you?"

He surprises me by answering. "I want to rule the Autumn Court."

"Oh, Prince Forrest, such an unattainable goal. However will you accomplish that? It's not like it'll just be handed to you—oh wait, it will be." I laugh at the irony that he can't understand my lack of a goal, but his goal isn't even a goal. It's an inevitability.

"You're about to be handed all four courts," he replies. "Why are you so against this? It's going to make your life monumentally better. And your family? They're going to be treated well. Why don't you want that?" Those eyes of his try to penetrate my thoughts.

I chew my bottom lip, trying to keep calm. Telling the truth will do no good. But by all logic he's right. If I were their mate, this wouldn't even be a question. I would feel a deep connection with them that I couldn't ignore, and marriage would be inevitable.

So, how do I explain my hesitation without giving myself away?

Not knowing what to say, I don't say anything. Instead, I meet his gaze and find myself unable to look away. I've never been in love, but some strange part of me thinks I could be in love with Forrest in another life. If he wasn't so cocky. So arrogant. So sheltered from the real world.

And yet… it makes him interesting.

One of his hands hooks around my waist and pulls me closer so that I'm standing between his legs. The other hand wraps around the back of my neck and brings my face close to his, so close I can feel his breath on my lips. It's warm and pleasant.

Like the man himself.

He pulls me even closer, and I can't take my eyes off his. They're intense. Beautiful and unexpected in a man who looks like the picture of danger itself. Our bodies touch, and heat flares between us. He gently presses his lips to mine as if testing me, giving me a chance to pull away, but, for reasons I don't understand, I don't.

His lips press harder, capturing mine with a possessiveness that takes my breath away. When his tongue parts my lips, I close my eyes and accept him in, goosebumps erupting on my arms at the feel of his tongue inside my mouth. His tongue slides against mine, and a strange desperation blossoms. I wrap my arms around him, and my body melts into his. He groans, pulling my legs around him so that I'm straddling him as he sits on the bed.

The taste of his lips intoxicates me, and the rhythm of our tongues dancing together makes heat rush to my core. My body rubs against him, almost grinding against his erection. He makes a choking sound against my lips, and his hands move up my neck where his fingers tangle into my hair.

There's an urgency to the kiss, a rush of movement, of ragged breaths and choked moans. His teeth tug at my bottom lip. I gasp, digging my nails into his back, riding him, cursing the clothes that separate us. Wanting more.

He grabs the back of my neck roughly and pulls my head back. " My Cassia," he pants.

I stare into his eyes, wild with passion. He seems to be waiting for something, but I don't know what. Fuck. What do you want, Forrest ?

We pant and stare at each other.

"I'm yours," he says, but it's more than words. It's a declaration. One I get the sense he wants me to echo.

I blink hard, and whatever spell we were under breaks.

I pull back, untangling our bodies, until I'm standing in front of him, feeling awkward and unsure. I touch my lips; they still tingle from his touch.

What the hell just happened? One minute… we were talking, or arguing, and the next, I couldn't resist him. It was almost out of my control, and I don't like that one bit.

"You're not like anyone I've ever met," he tells me, fire blazing in his eyes. His desire to finish what we'd started is evident in his gaze and his tented pants, but he doesn't reach for me.

My legs feel shaky, so I sit down beside him, take a breath, and try to sound normal. "Oh? How so?"

"You say what you want." His gaze softens.

"No one else around you does that?"

"They all say what they think I want to hear. I know they're bullshitting me. Women who don't know me at all throw themselves at me, telling me how kind and wonderful I am." He faces me on the bed, a pained look on his face.

"You're not kind or wonderful?" I ask with raised eyebrows.

He doesn't reply, and that's all the answer I need. I chuckle. "You'll get nothing but the truth from me."

"Why don't you want to marry us?" he asks plainly.

His genuine question takes me by surprise, so I strive to give an honest answer without revealing my secrets. "It's not the life I want. The life I want just involves my father, my grandmother, and me. Enough food to eat. A solid roof over our heads. Just a good, simple life. I don't want to be pulled into a complicated world. I don't want to be shared by four fae princes. It's just too much." There. This man has finally gotten a vulnerable answer out of me.

He gives a small smile. "You've got no choice. Besides, we'll take good care of you." He almost purrs the last part.

It enrages me. Prince Sulien said nearly the same thing. How is it that I don't get any choice in this arrangement? Fuck that.

"I have a choice."

The bastard laughs. "No, you don't. The magic picked us. We're mates. From this moment on, we're together."

I rise and hurry from the room, and his face is plastered with confusion. He calls my name, but I ignore him. Instead, I rush out of the room and head outside, away from him, and away from the problems I've created. Damn it. I can't believe I let my guard down with him.

That's a mistake I won't make again.