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“How?”

“How what? How is it complicated? Curses often are.” He tilted his head, regarding her closely. “Aren’t they? Cryptic messages, injustices. The cure often something just out of reach, if not unobtainable.” He lowered his head to hers. She thought he’d kiss her to stave off her questions. Instead, he asked just above a whisper, “What’s your curse, Niera? Last I checked, woodland fae don’t have a severe aversion to the ocean.”

The shock that ripped through her fueled her resistance. She broke free of his grip, punched the sweater into his chest, and bolted for the boardwalk.

The entire way back to Annise’s condo, barefoot and cold, she kept a close eye on her trail. Anticipating Alistair at her heels. Waiting for a furry, four-legged, magical talking cat to trot up to her and cast a spell. The joy from the parade crowd tinkled in the distance, but did nothing to bring the Christmas spirit her way.

She had to leave.

No more delays.

After drawing a few curious glances due to her bare feet, Niera paused to tug on her sand-coated sneakers and picked up her pace to a jog until she reached her friend’s condo.

Niera dug out the spare key and let herself into the empty abode. Darkness and shadows shrouded the small living space, except for a single light over the stove. She pulled her phone out of her jacket—thankfully sand-free—and punched in a driver request using her Uber app. Ah, good. She had twenty minutes to gather her meager belongings and hustle to the edge of town.

After scribbling a rushed apology and leaving it on the kitchen counter, she locked up, replaced the spare key in the planter on the stoop, and headed to the designated meeting spot.

The sooner she left all of this behind, the better. The forest called to her, begging her to return. To replenish the energy stores the ocean sapped from her spirit and the crystals couldn’t completely preserve.

She reached Tabby Road, where her journey began earlier that day. The excitement from the crowd along the parade route down the road reached her ears. A pang of regret touched her chest. When she turned to face the festive trail of colors, sparkles, songs and sights, that pang erupted into a dull ache. When was the last time she enjoyed a Christmas? When was the last time she enjoyed anything for herself, period?

“Make sure the curse isn’t cast, and then I’ll have time for me.”

The twin headlights of an approaching car rolled over her. She followed her driver’s path on her app until the car pulled up beside her.

The doors clicked open and she dropped into the back seat. Her driver—Ed, per her app—smiled over his shoulder.

“Missing the grand parade in the Cove?”

“Not really a parade person.”

“Shame. There’s a little-known tradition at the end of the parade, right before the gala at Sherwood Manor. Supposedly, coins are hidden all over town. Anyone who finds a lucky coin can make a wish. Heard those wishes actually come true. Friend of mine found one a few years back.” Ed sighed before he faced forward and asked, “Where to?”

Anywhere but here.

“Daytona International Airport, please.”

“Gotcha.”

Niera settled back into the plush seat, watching the parade’s rainbow lights fade as Ed turned the car around and steered away from town. The poignant floral scent of an air freshener washed away whatever ocean breeze remained in her lungs. Her tension subsided, starting with her shoulders and moving to her legs.

She closed her eyes.

It’s over. No more talking cats or falsely woven Fate strings. No more illusions of sea fae or debilitating weakness.

She swallowed, only to have a lump bob up in her throat.

No more Alistair.

“Headed to warmer or colder climes?” Ed asked, slowing at a red light before A1A. The light changed from red to green before he came to a complete stop, and he turned onto the highway.

Faded silver flashed before her eyes, blinding her briefly. Her body jerked, twisted, and suddenly she felt impossibly light, like she was floating in the air.

Then, she plummeted, and landed splayed on her back, staring up into a star-studded sky with a waxing moon illuminating the night.

She gasped, gulping in a breath as an ache unfurled from her feet to her head. She cringed, but the pain was gone as quickly as it came.

After a few blinks and controlled breaths, she saw a shadowy head loom over her face. It took her a few moments to realize the sound of rushing blood through her head wasn’t blood at all.

It was the lazy lapping surf of the ocean.

The looming head tilted and a set of glowing green-silver eyes met hers. A small paw rested lightly on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Niera. But you can’t leave. Not yet.”