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“The Queen of the Fae Realm.”

“What is her name?”

“I cannot speak it here. A spell prevents me from speaking her name and revealing her identity in this land for her protection. None of the Court Royals can be identified by name here,” Sorin said. He still stood casually in the doorframe, his hip braced against it. She could feel his gaze on her, watching her carefully.

Scarlett took a bite of a pear and finally looked at Sorin. “So when you wear my mother’s ring, you can do magic?”

Sorin looked down at his closed hand. “Yes. When I wear your ring in this realm, I can access my magic.” He opened his hand and fire appeared in his palm. Scarlett jumped slightly, startled by the flame. She looked from it, back to Sorin, his eyes fixed on her.

“It doesn’t burn you?” she asked, stepping closer to examine the flame he held.

“No. My gifts are fire from the goddess Anala,” Sorin explained.

“What else can you do?” Scarlett asked, leaning in close over the flame.

Sorin gave her a wicked grin as flames encircled them. Scarlett screamed a little, and Sorin laughed. He closed his fist, and the flames vanished. When he opened his hand again, tiny flames danced. He rolled them along his knuckles and around his wrists.

“Open your hand,” Sorin said.

Scarlett’s eyes went wide, and she took a step back from him. “Absolutely not.”

“Trust me,” he said gently.

Sorin’s eyes shone in a way Scarlett had never seen, almost as if flames themselves glowed in them. He seemed more alive than she’d ever seen him, like his magic gave him life. Scarlett slowly opened her palm and closed her eyes tight.

She heard Sorin chuckle softly again as he whispered, “Open your eyes.”

Scarlett gasped as flames danced in her palm. She turned her hand over,and the flames rolled along onto the back of her hand. “You are doing this?” she asked, her eyes fixed on the flames. “How do they not burn me?”

“Yes, I control it. It does not burn you because I will it not to burn you. Just as I will the fire in the fireplace not to emit heat,” Sorin said. She looked up to find him watching her, a faint smile on his face.

“This is amazing,” Scarlett said, her voice filled with awe as the flames skittered around her wrist, up one arm and down the other.

Sorin danced the flames along her for a few more moments before he snapped his fingers, and they disappeared. He waited patiently, watching her, and letting her process everything she was seeing and learning in her own way, giving her the space and time.

“I didn’t know what to expect when you said magic, but it wasn’t that,” Scarlett finally said, leaning against the counter. “Do all Fae have magic?”

Sorin nodded. “Yes, but they do not all possess fire magic. Fae are blessed by the elemental gods — fire, water, wind, and earth. The strength of their gifts vary.”

Scarlett considered this, then said, “You really can’t use your magic here without my ring?”

“I cannot.”

“What other kinds of magic are there?”

Sorin tensed at that question, the flames seeming to darken in his eyes. His smile faded. “Let me make some tea. Go sit, and I will tell you what I can,” he said.

Scarlett walked out to the great room and took up a place on the sofa, tucking her legs under her, staring at the fire that emitted no heat. Magic was here. In the mortal kingdoms. She had always suspected as much. She had seen too many strange things in her time spent in the shadows, but seeing and believing were two entirely different things.

Questions raced through her mind. She couldn’t sort through them all fast enough. The clock on the mantel told her it was nearing midnight when Sorin placed a cup of tea in her hands. It smelled delightful, and the first sip warmed her bones. There was a hint of something she couldn’t quite place and she asked,“What kind of tea is this?”

“You realize you are well over five questions by now, don’t you?” Sorin said with a smirk, settling onto the couch beside her. His leg pressed against her folded knees, and she stiffened slightly at his closeness, but her soul seemed to sigh as the scent of cloves and cedar enveloped her. She vaguely remembered him holding her in the dark when she was in and out of consciousness, but if words were exchanged, she didn’t recall that.

Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Must you always keep score?”

“I am very competitive that way,” he mused, his gaze locked on hers. She stared into his faintly glowing eyes. It had to be the fire magic flowing in his veins.

“Tell me about the other forms of magic,” Scarlett finally said, taking another sip of tea.