The Unseelie King (The Kings Book 6) Read Free Page A

men like him, there were some things he would never get used to.
    He just had to make certain no one else knew that.
    Caliban eyed the white door for just a moment, the hair standing up at the back of his neck. Then he turned and stared the bound man in the eyes. “Caeoren, you’ve betrayed my realm, my people, and most importantly, myself,” he said softly. “I hope the reward was worth it.”
    The traitor swallowed audibly, but could not reply. Caliban knew good and well that there was nothing he could say. No matter what the Shades had promised him, nothing was worth what the Unseelie King was about to do. Nothing was worth this particular punishment. Which was why Caliban had to do it. The only way to rule over a nation such as his own was with an iron fist. Unseelie fae were like hungry sharks in a sea devoid of fish. All it took was one whiff of blood, one show of weakness, and the feeding frenzy would begin.
    Caliban took a deep breath and decided to put an end to the terrible anticipation that filled the room. He lifted his head, nodded at the nearest guard, and the guard came forward to place his hand on the knob of the single white door.
    The prisoner, Caeoren, straightened in his metal bindings, which were partly iron. Caliban could smell his skin scorching under the touch of that particular metal, which was caustic to nearly all fae, seelie and unseelie alike. The only fae, in fact, who had ever proved immune to its effects were the Wish Fae. Why, no one knew.
    A newly acquired ring on Caliban’s finger protected him from the iron, should he touch it. He’d worn a ring like this for thousands of years and had been fortunate that a replacement was available for the one Minerva had destroyed. Thus far, the young Wisher was the only creature alive who’d been capable of ridding him of it.
    Caeoren turned to look at the white door, and stiffened. The man holding him tightened his grip on the prisoner.
    Everyone but Caliban and the guard took a step back. Caliban gave the guard another nod, small and meaningful. The guard turned the knob, and the door swung inward, opening with slow precision. Sunlight flooded the white room, filling it with the same glow that had outlined the white door. Caliban gazed into the landscape beyond, taking in the forbidden forest he’d only glimpsed a handful of times in his long existence.
    Motes of light captured airborne blossoms that cascaded from bloom-filled willow trees to carpet the thick green grass of the forest floor. A large stream ran clean and pure through a clearing, babbling invitingly as it tumbled over river rocks and pebbles. Mushrooms of rainbow hues gathered in bunches along the river’s banks, along with plush, cushiony mosses.
    Butterflies flitted here and there, capturing sunlight that caused their wings to momentarily glow. Birds chirped, and a pleasantly fragrant breeze gently touched the petals of flowers bearing impossibly beautiful markings.
    The bound man turned to Caliban with new fear in his eyes. “Please,” he said, and the single word felt as if it were bound to his soul. “ Please ,” he repeated. “Show mercy.”
    The king looked back down.
    The prisoner was sweating, moisture darkening his blonde locks and marring his otherwise perfect fae complexion. He was clearly not used to the show of weakness, and it was clearly all he had left. “Kill me instead,” he pled in a whisper.
    The room stilled, holding its collective breath. Caliban’s lips turned up mirthlessly, and his piercing eyes hardened into beautiful stones. “If you’d wanted mercy, Caeoren, you should have chosen to live in my brother’s realm.” He shook his head, just once. “Unfortunately for you, you chose mine.”
    He turned away from the prisoner. “See him in.”
    The forest beyond the white door was the most beautiful in the fae ream, yet its beauty was balanced out with an equal measure of ugliness.
    The prisoner began to struggle. The heels of his boots