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“That you would take me to bed.”

Minutes later, he had me sprawled beneath him in front of the burning hearth. I arched, naked and writhing to the tempo of his body, the roll of his waist, the thrust of his pelvis. He’d seized my wrists and pinned them above my head, my knees widespread around him while he rocked inside me, an undulating rhythm that ground me into the rug. Moisture gathered on his forehead, down the muscles of his abdomen, across his lower back.

I moaned, “And what do you say now, Aire?”

“I love you, Aspen,” he hummed.

“Tell me again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

And again. And again.

Later, we would rest by the fire and whisper. Later, I would boil water for tea, and he would ask to court me, and we’d make plans. We’d remain in this cottage, tearing down and rebuilding the walls, our hands and lips everywhere, our bodies tireless.

Until then, like a little thief, I stole each sweet moan of his. Everything condensed to the place where we joined, where our hearts slammed, where his words found a hollow in my chest and filled it.

Together, we made the most honest sounds we ever had.

A husky noise escaped him as he scooped my face into his palms, his lips parting me, our tongues gliding. The lurch of Aire’s hips gained speed, the hardness pitching into me, hitting a place that sent me flying.

We drove each other into oblivion.

I brought him to earth. And he tossed me into the sky.

Epilogue

Fantasy

Once upon a time, there lived a liar.

In the Kingdom of Autumn, she’d been crafted from the trees and had a nut-shaped heart. She was conceited. She was mean.

And yes, she told lies. A hell of a lot.

Why would this girl deserve a fairytale of her own?

Girls like her didn’t merit their own stories, much less earn happy endings. They neither reaped the glory, nor enticed the honest, noble knight. They weren’t meek enough, or gentle enough, to be rewarded.

To be desired. To be loved.

That’s what fairytales wanted the world to think. Because usually, fairytales were stupid.

But not this one. This tale was different.

As different as the girl herself. The girl made of trees.

It ended like this: She journeyed to a woodland of fairytales, she made unlikely friendships, and she fell in love.

Best of all, she learned to love herself. She learned to love her woodskin.

She learned to give more than take, though she still told fibs here and there. She was still learning, because there was always more to learn.

And in the land of falling leaves, there lived a knight.

And this knight believed in only three things: chivalry, bravery, and honesty.