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Story: A Strange Hymn

Rather than make good on his word and take a bead, Des releases my face, strolling forward once more.

All the tension that drew my body taut now releases. I stand in place for several seconds before I pull myself together.

“I want to renegotiate this bond,” I finally declare.

“Sorry, cherub,” he says over his shoulder, “but that sore ass of yours is mine whether you like it or not.”

I make a face at his back.

“Saw that.”

“Good,” I say, and then I proceed to ignore him.

I don’t know whether Des is still working his illusory magic because people aren’t fawning over him, but me…me they’re checking out.

Their eyes linger on my wings and my forearms, but I don’t see fear or pity in their eyes. If anything, they look…mesmerized.

Self-consciously, I reach around myself and run a hand over one of my wings.

“They don’t see your features as you do,” Des says, still not turning from where he strolls ahead of me.

I furrow my brows.

He stops, waiting for me to catch up to him. “Fae come in all shapes and sizes,” he explains. “Seeing someone who looks as you do does not seem strange to us. You’re a beautiful human with wings, and that’s both strange and appealing.”

I glance down at what I can see of my dark wings, the iridescent feathers shimmering green under the light. It’s hard to wrap my mind around what he’s saying and even harder to try to reframe how I see myself.

Beautiful. Appealing.Those words are a far cry from the ones that come to mind when I look in the mirror:Monstrous. Mutated.

I’m ashamed to admit those appreciative stares soothe a part of my broken self-confidence.

“You should really remember that, cherub,” Des says, “especially when you meet some of the elites from other realms. They’ll find you just as attractive as all these fairies do—perhaps more so because you’re mine—but they will try to mask whatever they feel with disgust or some other emotion to make you feel small.”

These fae sound like charming people…

Wait.

I glance at Des. “WhenI meet other elites?”

Chapter 11

No, I’m not about to meet other elites.

Yes, I likely will at some point in time.

No, not tonight.

Yes, Des cares about my feelings.

No, caring about my feelings won’t get me out of meeting said elites when the time comes.

Apparently, meeting important fae is part of this whole soul mate package I signed on for.

Bleh.

If I could live my life without meeting another high-powered fae, I’d consider it a win. Des is more than enough.

Des stops me in front of a tavern, and I give it a good once-over. It looks just like the others. Same carved-wood façade, same bright lights strung up over its awning, same gummy look that suggests the place has endured decades of beer spills.