The Summer King was nothing if not persistent though. He’d fought for nine centuries to reach the strength he had only just found. His sunlit skin glowed as he told her, “I can’t lie either, Rika: I do want to protect you. Make a vow of fealty to me, and I will keep you safe if the coming troubles reach the desert.”

“A vow? To you? No.” She stood and brushed the sand from her jeans. “Are we done here?”

“Other solitaries have joined my court. . . . It’s not so odd.” In that instant, Keenan looked so earnest—genuine and eager, so like the boy she’d loved. It hurt more seeing him looking at her so familiarly, but then she reminded herself that he had always sounded exactly like that when he’d successfully manipulated her. This time, he wouldn’t succeed.

“You could talk to the others out here,” he added. “The solitary fey will listen to you, and—”

“No,” she interrupted, foolishly hurt that he still saw her as a means to an end, a piece in a puzzle to be moved at his will. “I won’t ask them to join the Summer Court.”

As Keenan stepped closer to her, Rika had to grit her teeth to keep from backing away. Winds spun around them, as if it were just the two of them together, apart from the world, as she’d once believed it would be. He didn’t reach out to touch her as he would’ve when she was human, but in the same tone that had haunted far too many of her dreams over the years, he whispered, “I never meant to hurt you. You know me, Rika. It’s a simple vow. Then my court can step in if anyone needs—”

“Your court isn’t needed in my desert, Keenan. We handle things differently out here, and we have no business in court matters. The courts are a world away.”

“You’re being foolish, Rika. Letting grudges get in the way of what makes sense. Just talk to them.”

He obviously wanted a way in to the loyalty of the desert fey, and so he was here now whispering regrets and tender words, but she wasn’t a naïve girl, not now, not for decades. She turned and walked away from him, and she didn’t look back even though she could feel the swirls of sand stirring as he resisted his anger.

After a moment, a gust of wind lashed against her back, and she knew he’d left.

Melodramatic as always.

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2