"Holy shit! Those are fairies' homes!" I lower the binoculars and turn to Luther, who's grinning ridiculously.
"Why didn't you tell me they lived so close to the castle?" I swing back around to stare at a fairy emerging from a hive, her wings spanning outward in brilliant reds and golds. There are so many of these gorgeous fairies, all buzzing about like bees, popping in and out of the homes and then vanishing into the canopy tops. "We need to come here at night. Can you imagine how stunning this will look?" I lower the binoculars and glance over at Luther. “Can we go there?”
"If anyone gets near the tree, they attack and kill them. Even the Bloodcursed are afraid. Many fear and hunt them down to ensure they don't swarm the kingdom. We're under a kind of unspoken agreement that we each stay on our side of the land." He gives me a wonky smile, almost awkward, almost apologetic.
"They are super protective of their homes. I don't blame them." I turn my attention back in the tree's direction, taken aback by the beauty this realm holds. I think back to the stories I've been told about the fairy queen, the tragedy she encountered, the history behind the fairies’ existence. The reactions from fae when fairies are mentioned, including the princes.
They are feared.
But also misunderstood.
I think of Hiss and how she helped me, of the hundreds of fairies that bowed and sang to me. Those are not the actions of a wild, vicious race. They are trying to survive in this terrifying world that hunts them down, exploits them. They are direct descendants from the fairy queen herself, pushed aside by the Unseelie and Seelie alike. I recall the Ash King's mother gloating about her bloodline being directly linked to the fairies. Then why don't they embrace them into their court?
My mind runs rampant with injustice.
Luther closes in behind me, his hard chest pressed against my back as his arms wrap around my waist. His breath is on my neck. "To answer your earlier question, it's only after our recent trip that I realized how closely connected you are to them. They recognize you as one of their own."
The reality of his words is too much, except deep down in my gut, I know it's true. From the first time I encountered them, they saved me. One of them talked to me in my mind. One word, but still—communication.
"Are the fairies known for having abilities other than devouring the flesh from a person's bones in seconds?" I ask.
"Not that I'm aware of, though the fairy queen carried incredible power. She tapped into elemental magic, the legends say. It's why fae have such a varying array of powers. But most have been diluted over the generations."
The more I discover about this realm's history and inhabitants, the more it starts to piece together and somehow seem normal to me.
"I like the fairies," I admit.
"Yes, I know," he answers and kisses my cheek. Warmth spreads over my body from his affection.
Twisting my head, I glance back at him, but he surprises me, sliding a hand across my jaw and kisses me.
Powerful and intoxicating, he knows exactly how to distract me and make me forget about what I'd been thinking about seconds earlier.
When he breaks away, I melt my back against his chest and hold onto his arms locked around me.
"I knew the first time I found you that there was something special about you," he muses.
"Well, of course. I was the girl with a curse," I answer with sarcasm.
His hold squeezes lightly around me. "Not what I meant. When I enter someone's mind, I can feel their aura. I can't explain it, but I sense in my heart how pure their soul is, and you are untouched."
"Untouched?" I turn around in his arms to face him.
"Nothing stains your soul. Everyone has some level of corruption or darkness in their aura. It's part of who we are. Except you. I've never seen that before."
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I’m unsure what to ask.
He cups my cheeks and kisses my nose. "I think it means you are destined for something unimaginable."
"That sounds terrifying." My breath quickens. "I have yet to see when anything in this realm is filled with butterflies and rainbows rather than death and blood."
"These hardships will shape your legacy, little wolf."
I half-laugh at the motivational quote. "You are confusing me with someone else. Everyone wants me killed."
He leans in closer and whispers in my ear, “You got that backward, beautiful. Anyone with a death warrant is direly important. Even if you don't realize it yet.”
I frown and tilt back my head to look at him. "Do you know something I don't? Tell me; don't talk in circles, please. I've had enough of secrets."
"You are special, that part is obvious. Exactly why or how is still unclear, but it doesn't take anything away from you."
When his mouth grazes mine, I press myself against him and kiss him, tired of the merry-go-round conversations that leave me uncomfortable. I've never been anyone important, and I refuse to believe that somehow that has changed. I've experienced enough to know how the universe works. When it gives me something good in my life, it usually comes with a sucker punch. And I just feel like I haven't felt its full brunt yet. Luther telling me otherwise is his way of distracting me, to placate me.
With no answers, I prefer not to talk about this anymore.
I focus on how amazing Luther tastes instead, how his hands slide to my ass, fingers digging into me with a possessiveness I adore.
On my first time in this realm, I kissed Luther up in the treetops, so it fits perfectly that we find ourselves high up on a hill, overlooking the land, in each other's arms.
An icy breeze washes past, ruffling
