Lords of the Hunt (Wilde Fae, #1)

by Kate King

For my husband, John. I’m fucking obsessed with you.

The most honest people in the world were liars.

The Fae never lied, but they told more falsehoods than any human I knew.

They never downplayed their exhaustion, or told a friend they looked lovely to spare hurt feelings. They twisted their words into knots, taking pleasure in confusion and cruelty, while hiding behind the moral superiority of forced honesty. Lying well and often was a necessary skill in the high court of Elsewhere. It was our best weapon against the Fae. At least, that’s what my mother told me.

Mother had three cardinal rules: 1. Never make a bargain with a fairy. 2. Never enter the Waywoods on a hunting day. 3. Never give...

Lying was one of Mother’s unwritten rules. One should always lie, like one should never t...

Lying, though—that, I could get behind. Especially to guard my secrets. Especially to protect those I loved.

AS FLIES TO WANTON BOYS ARE WE TO THE GODS; THEY KILL US FOR THEIR SPORT. —WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, “KING LEAR”

At a distance, Prince Bael was beautiful. Almost angelic. His perfect square jaw, sensual mouth, and bouncing red-golden curls gave him the look of a tragic hero in an oil painting. As he got closer, however, that cherubic facade cracked. There was something unnerving and predatory about his cat-like, yellow eyes. Something cruel in his razor-sharp smile that sent shivers down my spine.

No matter what I did, the Fae always noticed me. They’d noticed my mother too, and they killed her for it.

Everyone believed that I carried bad luck with me everywhere I went. That I was dangerous. Cursed. I was starting to think they were right.

There were nine living members of the house of Everlast. Until the fall of this year, it had been ten.

He smirked down at me and bent to whisper in my ear. “You just won me a great deal of money, so I’ll let your violent urges go unpunished. This time.” He reached for my hand and began pulling me toward the glittering tents. “Come.”

“What violent tendencies you have.” He cocked his head at me, the corner of his mouth tipping up. “You’re a little monster.”

“It was after sundown,” I tried, forcing strength into my voice. “I have your crown. That makes me the queen.” “Yes, it does.” He turned and disappeared into the darkness of the corridor. “And let's see how well the crown serves you with no allies.”

IT WAS NOT THE THORN BENDING TO THE HONEYSUCKLES, BUT THE HONEYSUCKLES EMBRACING THE THORN. — EMILY BRONTË, “WUTHERING HEIGHTS”

The shadows always watched me; always whispered. Mostly, I tuned them out, but when they were this close to the surface their voices were deafening. Still, I wasn’t worried. I didn’t fear the dead. It was the living that scared me.

“Because, you need to know I’ll kill anyone who hurts you, little monster.”

“Normally, I would agree. With me is the most dangerous place to be.” His grin widened, and it reminded me somehow of a wolf. “But it would go against my best interest to hurt you, and I am selfish above all else.”

It reminded me of something my mother said: The most honest people were liars. And somehow, I found common ground in that.

THOSE WHO DREAM BY DAY ARE COGNIZANT OF MANY THINGS WHICH ESCAPE THOSE WHO DREAM ONLY BY NIGHT — EDGAR ALLAN POE, “ELEONORA.”

“My family has a longstanding tradition of rejecting our true mates in favor of a marriage to someone with more complementary magic, so our children will have stronger powers.”

THE ONLY WAY TO GET RID OF A TEMPTATION IS TO YIELD TO IT — OSCAR WILDE, “THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY”

“I’ll let you keep your lies for now, little monster. All I care about is that you’re safe.”

“You’re making it far too hard to stay away from you, little monster. It’s driving me fucking insane.”

“It doesn’t matter, though. Do you understand what would happen if I fucked you the way I want to right now? The way I know you want me to? That’s a completed mate bond, which would kill not only you but my entire house.”