Keeper of Storms (The Fallen Fae #3) - Jenna Wolfhart Page 0,38

fae hair. What were you trying to accomplish? Convince us that you’re human?”

Her heart thumped. What the hell did that mean?

“I don’t have an owl familiar,” she said.

He jerked his chin toward the brown owl who was struggling to escape from the Fomorian’s hands. “That owl came to your rescue, and it seems intent on getting to your side even now. You’re telling me it’s not yours?”

Eislyn lifted her chin. “Yes, actually.”

“Either you can lie or you’re ignorant.” His smile vanished. “You’ve left me with no other choice. You’ll stay, here in Aotrom Palace. And you’ll become my bride.”

Eislyn took a step back, heart rattling. “What?”

“You’ll become my bride.” He repeated the words slowly, as if he were speaking to a small child.

“I will not,” she said hotly, twisting against the bonds around her wrists. “I’m someone else’s betrothed!”

“Unfortunately for your lover, you will not be returning to him.” Emperor Lir twisted toward his closest guard. “Bring me a druid. Tell him to bring everything he needs for a wedding ceremony.”

All the blood rushed from Eislyn’s face. Horror twisted in her gut like a knife. “Now? You want to marry me now?”

He shot her a wry smile that matched the devilish shadows in his eyes. “Did you think that I would wait and give you a chance to escape?”

“I won’t marry you!”

“You will,” he countered.

“You need my permission,” she said, tears bubbling up in the corners of her eyes. “I have to agree to this, you know. That’s how the ceremony works.”

“Not for the Emperor of Fomor.”

Her jaw dropped as she conjured up argument after argument against this, but when he turned his back on her, all the fight bled out of her body and onto the stones. She sagged against her captors, a new wail of terror building in her throat. She’d been an idiot for believing that she could do anything to save her world. Vreis had been wrong. Eislyn could never be her own shield.

She would never even see another shield again.

It was all gone. Forever.

An hour stretched by. And then another. Eislyn was forced to wait inside the throne room with her captors and the strange owl while the Emperor was off doing who knew what. Something to do with the bloody wedding, apparently. She conjured up image after image of her escape, but not a single one of them made sense. She could try fighting them, but she had no sword. She could use her magic against them, but they seemed immune. She could run, but not fast enough. They were far more powerful. They were larger. They could break her body in half if they wanted.

Finally, the Emperor returned. He’d changed into a pair of white silk trousers that were barely cinched around his waist. He wore nothing on top, only his crown. His bronze chest glowed like the sunset.

He handed her a white, lacy gown. “Change into this.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Unfortunately for you, I care little about what you want.” He pointed at the gown. “Change.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“You will.”

“You can’t make me.”

He sighed and turned to the Fomorian who held her tightly in his grip. “Break one of her fingers. And then keep breaking them until she agrees to change into the gown.”

Fear bubbled up in her throat. “You can’t do that. I thought you wanted me to be your bride.”

“My bride doesn’t need fingers,” he drawled with such vicious ease that her soul shook in her chest. She truly was nothing but an ant to him, or worse. Perhaps he even thought of her as dirt.

The Fomorian guard grinned and lifted her hand to his lips. He flashed his teeth, and for a moment, Eislyn feared he might bite her finger clean off.

“No, wait,” she hissed, cheeks filling with color. She hated this. All of it. But she especially hated that she was so weak, that she could not stand the thought of even the tiniest bit of pain. “I’ll wear the stupid gown. But I’m not changing in front of you.” She gritted her teeth and glanced at the Emperor. “In front of either of you.”

Emperor Lir shrugged and crossed his arms over his chiseled chest. “You don’t need to get naked. Just put it over your tattered clothes.”

It was such a strange request that Eislyn almost laughed. And then she remembered where she was and why she had to put the stupid gown on in the first place. Still embarrassed, she shrugged the gown over her head and