The Summer King Bundle 3 Stories - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,123

words scraped against my throat. “I killed Aric. I…killed him.”

The space in front of me was empty.

He was gone.

And then I was gone.

* * * *

I wasn’t sure what stirred me, tugging me out of the emptiness, but I could feel the coldness of the tomb when I’d felt nothing before. A distant part of me acknowledged that I didn’t feel as cold as I should, and that perhaps that was concerning, but I was too tired to care, and too grateful that I didn’t hurt. That I felt…okay, just tired. So very tired. I started to slip away again when I heard it.

Footsteps?

No. It was too loud, too many thumps coming too fast. Banging? Yes, it sounded like banging. Was it the other fae finally checking on Aric? The Ancient would be pissed to realize it had taken so long. It was sort of insulting. A small grin cracked my dry lips. There was a burst of pain as if the flesh were too thin or raw, but it was okay.

I needed to open my eyes, but my lids were too heavy. I just wanted to sleep. That was all I wanted.

Voices.

That’s what I heard next, or at least thought I heard. I wasn’t sure. Shouts. Names that teased at the disjointed memories. Pounding footsteps followed—

The world seemed to explode. Wood cracked and splintered, and air—fresh, rose-scented air—flowed into the chamber.

“Brighton?”

The voice. His voice. I recognized it. The deep, melodious baritone that had whispered against my skin. But it sounded different now, full of relief and horror, fury tinged with desperation.

A curse was uttered, and then warmth flowed over me like sunlight breaking through the clouds. The air stirred.

“Brighton?” He was closer, and I tried to open my eyes, but it was of no use. A moment passed, and then I felt warmth against my cheek. Fingertips. Warm hands smoothing back the matted strands of hair— “Dear God.”

The two words sounded as if they took the speaker to their knees. My eyelids fluttered. Finally, I was able to open both of them halfway. The blurry image of a man dressed in black formed.

He was on his knees.

I knew him. I knew I did, but I couldn’t remember his name.

Blond hair shielded his face. He wasn’t looking at me, but instead reaching for the strap of the dress, pulling it back and then fisting a handful of the skirt, tugging it up and over one leg. I didn’t want him to do that. I knew I didn’t want him to see what had been done to me. That much I knew.

“Fucking Christ,” he snarled. “Fucking Christ. I’m going to fucking kill him.”

I flinched.

His head whipped in my direction, and I jerked away from the rage that filled every pore and plane, making his strikingly beautiful face more animalistic than human. The pure violence radiating off him was terrifying.

He seemed to rein it in, the anger and the power, wrapping it around himself like a cloak. Dropping the dress, he reached for me, and every muscle in my body locked up. I closed my eyes, waiting for the pain that was sure to follow.

“Brighton,” he spoke, his voice softer. “It’s okay.” The warm touch returned to my cheek, brushing my hair back. He seemed to freeze, and then he spoke again, the words hoarse. “It’s going to be okay now. I’m going to get you out of here. I’m going to…”

He trailed off as a chain rattled. A wave of heat entered the room, stirring the material of my dress.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” he repeated. His hand moved—

“Don’t,” I croaked, recoiling out of instinct, managing to draw back a few inches.

There was a tense silence and then, “I’m not going to hurt you. I could never hurt you.” His touch returned, slow and measured. He slid his hand along the side of my head, his palm becoming a barrier between me and the floor. “Open your eyes for me, Brighton. Please. Open your eyes, baby. See me and know I’m not going to hurt you. Open your eyes for me, sunshine.”

I saw you smile once, and it was like the sun finally rising.

He’d said that to me before. When I asked why he called me sunshine, he’d said that to me. He’d said that, and he…he’d told me that my hair was like sun rays.

Caden.

The King.

I knew him.

He wouldn’t hurt me, but…but it felt like he had. Deeply, but differently.

Drawing in a shallow breath, I cracked open my eyes and found