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Story: A Strange Hymn

“Obviously,” she says, laying her hands on my wings. She closes her eyes, humming low under her breath.

Almost immediately, I feel Temper’s magic at work. Where Des’s magic is sultry darkness and coiling shadows, hers is like heat from a furnace.

When she opens her eyes again, they glow. She continues to hum, the low bars of her voice sounding eerie.

“Bargainer,” she says, “tell me what happened.”

He and I share a look. The last time Temper was pissed off on my behalf, she blew up a portal.

“What do you already know?” Des asks.

“Only what Malaki told me—”

Malaki told Temper about this? That fairy is officially smitten.

“That Callie was injured and we might be leaving soon.”

“Whoa,” I say, beginning to sit up. “We might beleavingsoon?”

Temper pushes me firmly back down. “What else did I miss?” she asks.

Before Des can explain, I cut in. “They wanted to whip a human who’d been raped,” I begin.

I proceed to tell Temper the rest of the story, from the moment Des first exited the throne room to the moment he carried me out of it.

By the time I finish, Temper’s mended my broken wings completely. They itch where the new skin and bone growth has occurred, but itchiness aside, they might as well be brand-new.

I exhale a shaky breath. “I owe you one,” I say softly, trailing a hand over one of my wings. She’s healed me before but never to this extent. I feel shaken but so unbelievably grateful.

“Well, I think I owed you one after you used your glamour to get me that deal on my car, so you know, we’re even now,” she says, her expression soft. It hardens a moment later as a thought comes to her. “Now that you’re all better, where is thefuckingmonster who did this to you?” she demands, referring to Mara. “I will kill her.”

Her words have Des smiling nefariously, and oh my God, the only thing worse than these two being enemies is them being friends.

A knock on the now doorless doorframe interrupts Temper’s rant.

Outside, a human servant waits, his head bowed. In his hands is a bouquet of wildflowers.

“Yes,” Des says, moving to the doorway.

“I have a gift for the Night King’s mate,” he says, lifting the flowers a little as he speaks.

I push myself off the bed. “Callie,” I say, crossing the room. I take the bouquet from him. “And thank you for the flowers.”

His head hesitantly lifts, and I stare into his cool-green eyes. “Thankyoufor what you did,” he says softly. “None of us will forget.”

He doesn’t need to clarify whousis.

He dips his head again, and then he leaves, heading down the steps.

“Wait!” I call out, stepping onto the walkway beyond the suite.

He swivels back to me.

“You don’t have to live like this,” I say. “None of you have to. There’s a place for all of you on earth.”

He smiles. “We appreciate you and your strange ways. Perhaps one day we will leave. Until then…” He tips his head then resumes walking once more.

I feel my shoulders deflate. Rome wasn’t built in a day and all, but still, it’s a hard pill to swallow, knowing these humans will continue to live here, where they have precious few rights.