Taken (Fae's Captive #5) - Lily Archer Page 0,1

and try to catch my breath. “Why are you wearing that get-up to a party?” I shout and down the rest of the wine.

“I came straight from my duties.” Phinelas casts a glance to a changeling who sits at one of the long tables, his eyes downcast as he munches on some fruit. He’s dirty and bruised, but he’s alive, likely thanks to Phinelas.

“Setting that one free?” I try to play off my heart attack.

“Of course.” His dark eyes glint as he gives me a once-over. “You’re looking a good bit better than you were when I saw you in the Gray Mountains.”

“If that’s a compliment, I’ll take it.” I return the once-over. Phinelas is a fine fae—tall, dark, lanky. “Hey, you into changelings?”

A grin twists his full lips. “Why? Do you know one who’d be interested in me?”

I step closer and tilt my head back to look up at him with the finest flirt I possess. “Maybe, but she’s not sure just yet.”

“What will it take to convince her?” He moves so close we’re almost touching.

“A demonstration.”

“I think I can arrange that.” His gaze turns heated, but he glances at the new changeling. “Have her meet me in the sitting room near the castle entry in 15 minutes.”

“I’ll see what I can do. She’s a real wild one. Never know what she might do next, so pinning her down won’t be easy.”

He leans toward me, his lips close to my ear. “Tell her pinning her down will be plenty easy for me.”

Sexy fae. I step back as he turns to the changeling boy and offers him a goblet of water and more food.

I hum as I make my way out of the merry hall and wander down the main corridor with another glass of wine in hand. I stop and admire the snowy view a few times, the mountains fading away in the distance as the sun sets on the winter realm.

My pesky thoughts keep returning to Gareth. Where is he? I’ve passed plenty of revelers, but he wasn’t among them. Not that I was looking intently for him or anything. Is he with some pretty fae celebrating the king’s mating ceremony? I push away the sting I feel and remind myself he doesn’t like me. He never has.

“For the longest time, I thought maybe he did like me, but he was just, you know, pushing down his feelings because ‘me winter fae, me big strong male, me have no emotion’ blah blah blah. That kind of thing.” I frown at my wine and finish it off. “But nope, he made it clear once we arrived here that he wants nothing to do with me. He didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. He avoided me the entire way back from the Gray Mountains, and he hasn’t made any effort to see me now that we’re somewhere safe.” I swallow hard. Saying it out loud hurts more than I thought, even if I’m only telling it to an empty glass.

Maybe Phinelas is just what I need to shake it off, to forget about broody Gareth. I stumble through a room with beast heads mounted on the high walls. Coming face to face with an ice bear in mid-snarl isn’t enough to kill my buzz, so I pet its head and continue toward what I think is the front of the castle.

Has it been fifteen minutes? He said fifteen minutes, right? I set my glass down on some sort of important-looking paperwork on a desk in the next room. No guards in sight—everyone is at the party—I continue on my trek for male attention. But each step is a bit more halting, because the truth is … I don’t want Phinelas’s attention. Not really.

“Gareth isn’t going to give you what you want.” I lean on the wall inside a room full of ceremonial armor and peer at my warped reflection in a breast plate. “He just isn’t. Better to stop thinking about him.”

Onward I go, my resolve fading, my head spinning. I should go back. Phinelas will be disappointed just like I am, but he’ll live. There are plenty of pretty things at the party. He can take his pick. I glance at my arms, the puncture wounds visible even in the low evening light. I’m not a pretty thing. Maybe I could have been, but Granthos scarred me too badly, too often. Maybe that’s why Gareth isn’t interested. I’m too damaged for him.

My feet continue onward while my