The Summer King Bundle 3 Stories - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,138

because I don’t want to see you in pain.”

I glanced at him and saw that all those thick, golden strands were pulled back from his face, and the whole situation struck me as funny even if I didn’t laugh.

The King of all the Summer fae was serving me soup in bed.

Weird.

“You don’t have to do this,” I told him, lifting my gaze to his face. His expression was devoid of any emotion. “You don’t owe me—”

“Did you forget that I can scent your emotions?” Caden interrupted, and Christ, I sort of had. “That I know what you’re feeling? That I knew the whole time I was in here earlier?”

“Okay. Do you want a gold sticker or something? The kind with a little smiley face on it?”

He cracked a grin. “God, how I missed your attitude.”

I frowned.

“I know you think I’m here because I feel guilt or a responsibility to you. I don’t even have to have my ‘super special fae abilities’ to know that. You said it, but I can feel it. Your distrust of my motives, and your fear that I pity you is like burnt rubber.”

My frown started to increase. “Now I really do feel like I need to apologize for offending your sensitive nostrils.”

One eyebrow cocked. “I need you to understand something, Brighton. I’m here right now because I want to be. I’m here because I need to be—let me finish,” he said when I opened my mouth. “That need is not drawn from some sense of guilt or remorse. Don’t get me wrong, I feel a whole lot of that, but it is not what drives my actions.”

“Then what does?” I challenged, feeling the prickle of irritation, which was far better than anything else I was feeling. I latched on to it, wrapping the anger around me like the fuzziest, softest blanket. “You’re engaged, Caden. Something you failed to tell me before you fucked me, both literally and figuratively.”

“I did not fuck you. Not literally. You did not fuck me.”

“Oh, okay. What then? We made love?” I coughed out a harsh laugh. “Pretty sure you don’t make love when you’re going to marry someone else.”

Caden’s jaw hardened. “This is not the time to talk about this.”

“Damn right,” I snapped, pushing myself upright because arguing while lying prone in a bed really made me feel like I was at a disadvantage. It cost me, though. The flare of pain told me it was time to investigate that pill bottle that had been sitting on the nightstand after I’d stepped out of the shower. “There’s no point talking about any of this at all.”

“Oh, there’s a whole lot of points for why we need to talk about this.” Making a sound under his breath, he stepped forward and then halted. “Can I help you?”

“No.” I moved again, gasping. I slumped back, my heart pounding from the exertion of sitting up and failing.

Caden crossed his arms. “Do you not want me to help because you don’t want to be touched or because you’re angry with me.”

Both, but mostly the angry part at this point. I was being ridiculous. To eat, I needed to sit up. And I needed to eat because I was hungry, and I needed to get my strength back. “Fine. Whatever. You can help me.”

“You sure?”

I shot him a dark look that promised murder.

He smiled at me, and it was a real one. The kind that softened the beauty of his face and brought fire to his amber eyes.

My breath caught.

I hated myself.

Caden chuckled under his breath, but then he moved toward me. I braced myself, but when Caden carefully slid an arm under my shoulders, I didn’t freak, so bonus points there. He lifted me up, helping me lean against the fluffed pillows.

“Thank you,” I muttered, about as gracious as a spoiled child.

“You’re very welcome.”

Caden backed off, retrieving the food. “Luce wanted you to start with something light.” He placed it down, and with its little, sturdy legs, the tray was the perfect height. “It’s chicken soup with rice mixed in, and Luce said if you tolerate this well, we can move onto something more substantial.”

Staring down at the bowl, I realized there was cutlery. God, when was the last time I’d even used silverware? I could almost see the stewed beef staining the tips of my fingers. I started to reach for the spoon but stopped when I became aware of my arm shaking. Tremors coursed throughout my entire body.

I stared at the bowl,