The Summer King Bundle 3 Stories - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,23

I reached over and placed a hand on her arm. The contact surprised her as she swung her head toward me. “I’m sure your cousin is fine.”

Faye held my gaze. “I hope so. After losing his father….”

A slight frown pulled at my brow as Faye trailed off. She tilted her head slightly as a hush descended over the lobby and then she turned back to where we came from. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Tanner turn back as well.

“You should leave now, Brighton,” she whispered.

An acute shiver danced over my shoulders and the tiny hairs along the nape of my neck rose as I stared down at her dark, bowed head. Don’t turn around. Keep walking. That’s what I kept telling myself. I was done here, and Faye was right, I should leave now.

But I turned around, because some primal instinct inside me already knew who had arrived. And some insane, disturbed part of me just had to see him.

The Prince had entered his lobby, dressed very much like he had been Saturday night. Dark pants. Dark thermal. He wasn’t looking at Tanner or Faye or any of the other fae.

Pale, ancient eyes fixed on mine. He didn’t recognize you. That’s what I kept telling myself as a wave of goosebumps spread along my flesh.

I took a step back. Wrong move. Oh God, total wrong move.

The Prince’s eyes narrowed.

Tanner murmured something in his native language, and the Prince spoke. I didn’t understand a single word he said, but his voice was deep and booming and yet quiet somehow.

The fae turned to stare at me, because the Prince… the Prince hadn’t taken his eyes off me.

My heart hammered in my chest as I opened my mouth to say what, I had no idea, because the words turned to ash on the tip of my tongue as the Prince strolled across the lobby, heading straight for me.

Chapter 9

My first reaction to seeing him was the realization that there was a good chance I was going to have a massive heart attack. Dead before thirty-one, right here in the grandiose lobby of Hotel Good Fae.

Which, I guessed, was only a little bit better than dying alone at home, suffocated by stacks of dusty books and piles of handwritten maps.

My second, and probably the most troubling of reactions, was that rollercoaster dip in my stomach in response to seeing him, followed by an acute wave of shivers that had nothing to do with who he was.

Goodness, he was just… I couldn’t find the right words other than he did some really stupid things to my hormones.

Somehow I managed not to go into cardiac arrest or punch myself as he stalked toward me with the graceful prowl of a predator. I was a hundred percent human with absolutely no special abilities, but I could still feel the leashed power rolling off him, filling every nook and cranny of the lobby. It was base survival instinct, I figured, alerting the human mind that they were in the presence of a predator.

He didn’t recognize you. I repeated that all the way up to the moment he stopped in front of me. He doesn’t know it was you he had his hands on—

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

Throat dry, I blinked once and then twice. “Excuse me?”

His pupils seemed to constrict in response to my voice. “I asked why you were here, Brighton.”

Air caught in my throat at the sound of my name. “You know my name?”

The Prince tilted his head to the side and the look that crossed his face made me think he was questioning my intelligence.

Okay, that was a stupid question. But in my defense, other than Saturday night, when I was confident that he had no idea that was me, I’d only seen him twice before, both times brief. And we’d never been introduced. Ever. And I couldn’t even be sure that I had seen him in the hospital. That could’ve been a hallucination. Or a weird dream. Like the dream I had Saturday night, when I’d been in his lap and he’d been—

Oh my God, my eyes widened as I felt heat blast my face. I was so not going to think about that when I was standing in front of him. Because it was weird. Totally weird and stupid, but I swore I could feel the warmth from his hands on my sides and his lips—

Good God, I really needed to stop thinking.

Those pupils seemed to constrict