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I take Callie’s hand without preamble, pulling her away from her “friends,” who think they can get some sort of contact high on our relationship by getting close enough to us.

Our relationship. My back tingles where my wing roots are. Shit, it’s frightening how easily I could get used to that phrase.

“Where are we going?” Callie asks, trailing behind me.

“Dance floor.” There I can hold Callie close and pretend for a night that we are everything that I’ve denied myself.

Couples part when they take the two of us in. Even here amongst budding supernaturals, we’re a species apart.

Callie catches up to my side. “That was insanity back there,” she says, referring to the students who decided at the eleventh hour that she might actually be worth getting to know.

Screw this place.

“That was hellacious,” I say, “and I’m used to events like this.” Fairies are duplicitous bastards, one moment ingratiating themselves to you, the next trying to ruin your life. These kids would give even them a run for their money. “Thank fuck I never went to high school.”

I step onto the dance floor, the twinkling candlelight dappling us. This is my kingdom—sweat and dancing, alcohol and adrenaline-spiked decisions. Even though I don’t rule over humans, the magic thickening the air zings along my skin, drawing my most feral side closer and closer to the surface.

“You never went to high school?” Callie asks.

The smell of Arestys’ cloistered caves, the sound of clashing swords as I cut through my enemy, the look on my father’s face when I killed him—

“My upbringing was a little more unconventional,” I say.

The song blasting around us ends, and the melody that follows is sweetly slow and painfully human. It’s so unlike the music of the Otherworld. There our songs are a driving force, they spin spells and move magic.

In an instant, Callie’s eyes are large and panicked as she listens to the love song. I almost smile at the sight.

I place my hand on the small of her back, her bare skin warm against mine. She stands stiffly in my arms, afraid to move.

“Put your arms around my neck,” I tell her gently.

It takes her nearly an eternity to do so, and I feel every second of it. But the moment her fingertips brush the nape of my neck, I can feel myself slipping, my fae urges spurred by the feel of her.

She flashes me a nervous smile, and I am the wolf about to gobble up Red Riding Hood.

My mate is ripe for the taking, and this is a night for carting away brides.

I shut the thought down, and all that’s left is the throb of my heart in my chest.

“Relax, cherub.” I stroke the skin of her back.

My chest burns fiercely as I feel her body against mine.

Love. This is love.

It’s being bewitched by the curve of her lips and the way the light makes her eyes glitter. It’s enjoying her vulnerability because only Callie could spend a hundred nights with me and still be unsure about my feelings for her. It’s wanting to buy her a cup of coffee and some macaroons just to see her smile, or making her homework dance around her desk so I can hear her laugh. It’s all those nights I fled her room because I was afraid of her seeing me just as she has every other man in her life. It’s holding her close when she cries because her pain is my own and the world won’t be right until it’s gone. And it’s being absolutely certain that things cannot go on like this for another year.

I can’t continue being just her friend. Truth be told, for the last several months, I haven’tbeenjust her friend. I’ve let us become something more, and I never should’ve. Callie deserves to live the rest of her high school years getting hounded by idiot boys. She deserves some semblance of normalcy, and she’s never going to get that with me.

Honorable as my intentions might be, I’m no saint. It’s not in my nature to keep my mate at arm’s length. I’m a fairy; I take what I want when I want it. I encourage debauchery, sex and romance, and right now Callie is all my worst vices rolled into one.

She furrows her brows. “What’s wrong?”

I stare down at her. “Everything, cherub,” I say. “Everything.”

May, 7 years ago

The rest ofthe evening falls somewhere between pleasure and pain. By the time we leave the dance, Callie’s cheeks are flushed and a sheen of sweat coats her skin.