The Fall Of The King (Lightness Saga Book 3)

by Stacey Marie Brown

  “I am not ashamed.” My chin clicked up.

  “And neither am I,” he volleyed back. “I may have had money, but you had love.”

  “I didn’t think demons cared about such weaknesses.” I gripped my glass, rolling back my shoulders.

  “Do you say that because you believe fae are not capable of love? Would it make us too ‘human’ for you?” He shifted, turning to face me. “Or do you not want to think of me as able to love?”

  Heat blazed across my cheeks. The Dark Demon King talking about love? No. I couldn’t even entertain that idea. I stirred in my seat, feeling pinned beneath his gaze.

  “Yes.” I peered down the bar, willing James to be done with his other customers and save me.

  “Yes to which one?”

  “To both.” I cleared my throat, looking at him. “It was how I could understand your cruelty to others, to anyone or anything less in your eyes. How you could let my people be slaughtered.”

  “Thinking of you unable to love was also how you could rationalize your own actions. How you could slaughter hundreds of fae. If we had no families, no soul or love, it wouldn’t matter.”

  “I was just following your lead.”

  “Except I didn’t harm your people.” He slammed back the rest of his drink. “But I won’t defend myself. I let it happen. I apologize for my part.”

  My glass fell from my hand, dropping on the bar with a clatter. People turned to look at us, but I didn’t care. “I’m sorry, did I hear you right? Did you just apologize and admit you were wrong?”

  He smirked, turning my glass upright. “As much as I despise it, a good leader is willing to admit when they are mistaken. But I do not dwell on the past. It is done. We move forward.”

  That wasn’t so easy for me. I actually was a bit envious of his outlook. The past constantly rode my shoulders, consuming my life with the need for revenge. To honor my parents. Could I ever find peace if I didn’t? I never thought what I’d do if that day ever came. My life’s ambition was to avenge the Druids. I had nothing besides my anger and hate. But now, sitting next to one of the enemies I had contrived to destroy once, everything felt unstable and unsure. I didn’t like either sensation.

  “I thought we came here to forget all this shite?” I shook my shoulders, trying to release the dark mood tensing my back.

  “Yes, we did.” Lars smiled, giving me a nod, tipping up his glass to the barkeep. “I think we need another then.” The movement made him sway, and he slipped off his stool into me.

  “Whoa there. I think you’ve had enough.” I chuckled, shoving him back on his chair, the odd mood dissipating like vapor.

  “I can handle my liquor.” He frowned.

  “Looks like it.”

  “You are the size of a pint glass. How the hell are you still fine?”

  “My superpower.” I winked, earning a deep chuckle from him. His laugh warmed all the bits of me, and a huge smile curled on my face.

  James walked toward us at last, his gaze flashing between us, then zeroing in on me. “Another, lass?” He leaned over the bar, inches away from me. He had asked when we first got there if Lars and I were together. We both were extremely adamant in our “no,” Lars firmly adding, “She works for me.”

  Since then, James flirted and stared at me ceaselessly. Tempted? I wanted to be. I wanted to leave Lars and go home with this guy, to forget earlier. But even while angry with him, my body was so highly aware of Lars it was frightening. And magnetic. With my consent or not, my body inched closer and closer to him. Images of his mouth on my breast, his hands running up my body, kept flickering in my mind. My skin still pulsed with his touch.

  “Yes.” I practically threw the glass at James. Please help me drown any additional dirty thoughts I have of this man. What was wrong with me? This was Lars, the King I had studied and grew to hate with a deep-seated passion. The one just a moment ago I wanted to punch in the face.

  Mr. Dimples grinned at me as he poured my refill.

  “You can drink.” He winked, impressed with my intake. We Irish, and Scots too, prided ourselves on our level of consumption. “I get off work in a bit if you want to get another somewhere else?” He licked his lips. “I have a bottle of whisky over a century old at my flat.” The implication was very clear.

  He was fricken’ adorable. I would squash him.

  “Sounds tempting—”

  “James, is it?” Lars growled, cutting me off. He sat up in his seat, not waiting for the boy to respond. “Won’t your mummy be mad if you miss curfew?”

  My mouth dipped open, surprised at the unconcealed sarcasm in his tone. Very un-kingly.

  “I’m over four hundred years old,” James huffed, his shoulders rolling back.

  “Exactly,” Lars snorted diversely. “I have furniture older than you.”

  James looked back and forth between us, raising his arms. “Hey, man. You told me you weren’t together. She’s smoking hot. And she seemed interested in me too.”

  Lars’s head snapped to me. His black swirled into his pupils.

  I blinked, unsure how to respond.

  Lars returned to James with a snarl. “She’s not.”

  “I think the lady can answer for herself.” James kept his voice even, but a nerve twitched in his neck.

  “Let me say it again.” Leaning farther over the bar, Lars’s back coiled into a ball. “She. Is. Not.”

  James took one step forward and magic smashed into him and slammed him into the back of the bar. Bottles rattled, then tipped over. Similar to dominoes, they fell and knocked each other over, crashing to the ground, blanketing the room in a mixture of alcohol and magic. James’s mouth and blue eyes widened with shock.

  Ah, shite. “All right. We’re done here.” I jumped up, grabbing Lars’s arm. He was locked on the bartender, all humor gone from his features.

  “Lars. We’re leaving now.” It took a few tugs before he broke away from James. He pulled out his wallet, took a wad of bills, and chucked them on the counter. With a huff, he twisted and stalked out the door with a bang.

  “Sorry.” I gave the cute bartender a shrug before running out after the King.

  Freezing air pinched my lungs as brutal rain stabbed my skin. The little light the streetlamp gave off did nothing to penetrate the darkness. The only sound was rain and the beat of our feet on the cobble.

  “Hey?” I tracked after the huge figure in front of me. “Lars?”

  He didn’t stop or falter in step.

  “Hey, arsehole!” I bellowed, catching up with him. “What the hell was that?” I grabbed his arm, yanking him to a stop. “Lars?”

  He stopped but kept his head forward.

  “Look at me.”

  Slowly his head turned, his chartreuse eyes glowing in the dark.

  “Are you going to tell me why you just tossed our bartender, ruining all that precious alcohol? You never, ever hurt the liquor.”

  Lars’s lids lowered partway as he licked his bottom lip, staring off again.

  “Hello?”

  He sighed, looking down at me, swaying like a boat. “Chalk it up to a bad day.”

  I cocked my eyebrow, my hands on my hips.

  “I need you to focus on getting the cauldron, not taking a pubescent boy for a ride, Ms. Cathbad,” he stated, only slurring slightly. “Let’s go.” He stumbled down the alley, knocking into the walls.

  I pointed my face up at the sky, letting the cool drops tame the heat of my temper. Lars had to be my greatest lesson in patience and in keeping my hot temper from exploding all over.

  He was becoming my greatest test in everything.

  ~~

  If Lars didn’t know he was drunk before, the walk home made it clear. He drooped and dragged. Getting him up the stairs took some effort, even with his arm around my shoulders.

  “Last one,” I grunted, getting him up the final step. A light we left on in the entry wall sent murky shadows on the walls. The rooms looked as though a bomb had hit it,
the casualty of our fight, with most of the furniture in pieces.

  “Bed,” Lars mumbled, leading us toward another set of stairs up to the bedroom. It was a large, gorgeous flat with only one bedroom. I guess there was no reason he would need two. Either he was by himself or his “friend” would be staying with him. His guards were probably on duty or slept on the pullout sofa in the living room, which was now broken.

  The floor was mine. I wasn’t picky. I had slept on a lumpy old mattress in a drafty loft space since I was nine.

  “Wow.” I flicked on the light to the bedroom, the elegant space coming to life. A chandelier hung over the gigantic bed, with dark luxurious wallpaper featured on one wall. Every piece of furniture was unique and massive in an antique sort of way. The room was sexy. It made you want to crawl on the bed naked, letting the deep gray silk sheets slide over your body.

  “Here you go.” I led Lars to the bed. He fell on the comforter with a groan, his body taking up most of the bed. I wanted to relish in his future headache, but fae were fast to absorb alcohol and get through a hangover.

  He would probably sleep right through it and wake up refreshed.

  Bastard.

  He tried to reach down, to untie his shoes, but he resembled a turtle caught up on a rock.

  “Damn, I wish I could record this,” I muttered to myself, reaching for his boots.

  “Don’t even think of it.” His words were muffled from the comforter.

  “Sorry, too late. I already thought of it about seven times tonight.” I smirked, tugging his right boot off.

  He twisted his head, so he was looking at me with one eye, his gaze sparking with amusement. “I’ve got to watch my back with you, don’t I?”

  “That’s what I’ve been telling you the whole time.” I grinned, taking off his other shoe and tossing it on the ground. The way he looked at me was so direct I had to turn away. “Okay, you sleep it off. I’ll see you in the morning.” I took a step for the door.

  “Wait.” He lifted his head, climbing higher on the bed.

  I pretended I didn’t hear him, needing to be far away from him so I could breathe again.

  “Fionna?”

  My feet stopped, my chest falling toward my knees, hearing the sound of my name and the husky, soft way his tongue wrapped around it.

  “Yes?” I croaked out, my hand on the door.

  “Sleep here. We destroyed the sofa,” he said matter-of-factly. I couldn’t explain the pang of disappointment in my gut. It felt more of an order or formal request than an offer.

  “I promise I don’t snore.” He struggled taking off his coat, tossing it on the ground with force.

  “You’re okay with sleeping next to a Druid?” I turned back, mockery drilling my words. “Don’t we have cooties?”

  He lids narrowed, shaking his head. “Do whatever you want.” He sighed, flopping back on the bed.

  Walk out, Fionna.

  I didn’t move.

  Seriously, walk out now.

  Nothing obeyed me.

  “Either get in or go out. Don’t fuss by the door; you’re making the room tilt.”

  I barked a laugh, and my toes inched back toward the bed. It did look incredible, as though it would envelope me in cuddly softness. The sound of the rain pelted the window rhythmically. I’d probably sleep like a baby in here.

  Screw it. The king-size bed could contain us both without even getting close. I kicked off my boots and tugged off my jeans. “Sorry, I can’t sleep in trousers.”

  “Me neither.” Lars exhaled, like he was hoping I’d say that. “I actually sleep naked but thought it might come across as impolite.”

  I snorted. I’d seen him fully naked already, but still I couldn’t help snatch a glimpse of the impressive package contained in his boxer briefs as he pulled off his jeans.

  I climbed into the bed and groaned as the mattress snuggled around my form, the sheets sliding delicately up my bare legs.

  “Damn, this bed is amazing.”

  “Only the best.”

  I leaned over to reach the light on the wall and slid right off the silk sheets and out of the bed. “Ahhhh.” I hit the floor with a thud.

  A deep howl of husky laughter erupted from the bed.

  “Slippery.” I giggled and got on my knees, seeing Lars’s silhouette in the dark, laughing his arse off.

  “Do I need to strap you in?” His laughter ebbed away.

  “Possibly.” I climbed back in the bed, moving a little away from the edge of the bed.

  “I am finding you extremely amusing, Ms. Cathbad.”

  “Back to Ms. Cathbad, huh?” I rolled on my side, staring at his glowing eyes.

  He twisted his head to me. His gaze locked on me. He watched me for a long time, finally saying. “It’s safer that way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “First names are personal, breed comfort and familiarity. Two things I cannot afford, nor should any person dealing with me. This keeps things in their place.”

  “But I call you by your first name. Most fae don’t have last names.”

  “Fae understand the subtle way we verbalize names. Humans…and Druids…do not.”

  “Explain.”

  “What is your response if I call you Ms. Cathbad?” He peered up at the ceiling, his voice formal. “And what is your response when I call you Fionna?” His voice didn’t change, but it felt like a zap between my thighs.

  My gaze darted above, my tongue slipping over my lips, my chest tight. “Got it.”

  “With all people, I need to keep up my guard.”

  I faced him again. “What I saw in the tunnel...?”

  I heard his teeth grind against each other. “I apologize for that.”

  “No. That’s not what I meant.” The dark may have hidden my blush, but it also created intimacy. “What happened, Lars?”

  He twisted his head, facing the window. He was silent so long, I thought he passed out.

  “You remind me of someone,” he finally said. “Your accent. The way you speak…”

  “Ash.” I hated the sinking feeling in my stomach, the only reason he tried to kiss me or hooked up with me after our fight was because I reminded him of her. “You called me Ash.”

  His arm lifted, his hand running over his face.

  “You loved her.”

  “With a fierceness,” his voice strained. The emotions I felt under his declaration froze me in place.

  “We were the ultimate star-crossed lovers. I couldn’t imagine loving anyone as much as I loved her... but I still let her go. Opted to rise in power instead. She ended up falling for my brother. Their love was sweet and comfortable. Safe. She and I were similar to a tsunami. Breaking each other and everything in our path. When she was killed, my brother couldn’t handle it.” Lars sucked in a deep breath. “I had to challenge him.”

  “You mean kill him,” I said. I was in awe. Not only was he grieving for her as well, but he had to, by fae law, kill his own brother. What must it do to a person?

  “Yes.” He adjusted the pillow under his head. “He went insane. I was the only one left in my family. It remained up to me. He was my best friend. The one who kept me sane. The last words he said to me? Aisling was always yours. I’m sorry for falling in love with her. I love you, brother. And I watched the life drain from his eyes.” He cleared his throat of emotion. “Just like my father had to do to his own brother…we both murdered our twins. Insanity runs in our family.”

  “What?” I lifted my head.

  “My uncle was the rightful King, but power went to his head and became a liability. My father, on a pretense of getting away together for a weekend, murdered his brother and claimed the crown. When my father died at war, he had declared my brother his successor.”

  “But you wanted to be King.”

  “I thought I did.” Lars’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “But I gave up so much to get it. I’m not sure if I would do the same again. She’d probably be alive if I chose her. I l
ost the years with her... with my daughter.”

  I blinked away the moisture in my eyes, feeling similar pain of regret. “Something I know all too well,” I whispered.

  His head turned to me, our gaze meeting. “Why did you give up your daughter?”

  I tucked my hand deeper under my pillow, my chest clenching. “I would say it was to keep her safe.” Tears filled my lids. “But if I stayed home with her, it wouldn’t have been an issue, right?” My heart had held the guilty secret for so long. The truth was too harsh to face. But I didn’t look away, locking on Lars’s gaze.

  “I craved power and revenge more than I wanted to be a mother.” My voice broke and it took me several swallows to continue. “I kept telling myself it was because I wanted a better life for her, which was true. But deep down, I wasn’t ready to be a mum. Not the way she would need me. Give up all I worked for? After years of training and being in hiding, I felt my destiny was to be the leader of the Druids. I didn’t want that for my daughter, the way I had grown up until I went to Olwyn’s. I guess I thought it best for her.”

  He rolled onto his side, moving closer to me. “Something I know all too well.” For a moment we stared at each other, realizing how similar we actually were. Two creatures full of regret, who’d traded in love for power.

  Saying it, sharing my deep shame with him, lifted a tiny piece of the burden inside.

  Lars shifted his head on the pillow, his voice low. “Aisling and Devlin have been haunting me. They’re who I think I see.” He swallowed. “It’s so real… And no one can afford a leader who is not fully focused.”

  “You mean insane. You’re scared you’re losing your mind. That it really does run in the family. And now it has affected you.” None of these were questions.

  “Yeah.” He focused back on the ceiling.

  Nothing I could say would reassure him, not without sounding false. I hadn’t seen anyone, but no doubt something very real was taunting him.

  I reached out and placed my hand on his. “We’ll figure it out.”

  His head jerked to me, his gaze scouring me. “We will?