Page 4 of Accidentally Ever After (Wings & Whispers #1)

The next morning, I woke to find a garment box on the table in my sitting room with a note in elegant script: “For comfort. -C”

Inside was clothing in the human style—jeans, t-shirts, and button-ups that looked suspiciously like they’d come from my own closet.

“Had these brought from your dwelling,” Melronna explained when she arrived. “His Highness thought you might feel more at ease.”

The thoughtfulness of the gesture made something warm unfurl in my chest. I chose jeans and a simple blue button-up, immediately feeling more like myself.

When I emerged from my rooms, I found Caelen waiting in the corridor, dressed more casually than I’d seen him before in a simple tunic that left his arms bare and those clingy fairy pants that seemed to be standard issue.

“You look more comfortable,” he observed.

“I feel more like me,” I admitted. “Thank you. That was… thoughtful.”

He inclined his head. “I may have been overeager to see you in Seelie attire. Your comfort matters more than court aesthetics.”

“Though the court might disagree,” I said, noticing the disapproving glances from passing courtiers.

“Let them,” he said with a surprising edge to his voice. “You are my consort, not theirs to judge.”

The possessive statement should have annoyed me. Instead, it sent a thrill down my spine.

Definitely the magic , I thought firmly.

Caelen had planned a tour of the palace gardens, which turned out to be more like an enchanted forest than any garden I’d ever seen. Plants responded to our presence, flowers turning to follow our movement, vines extending to offer fruit that tasted like liquid sunlight.

We were examining a pool filled with tiny creatures that looked like seahorses with butterfly wings when a commotion at the garden entrance caught our attention. A group of fairies entered, led by an elegant female with wings like stained glass and an expression of barely concealed disdain.

“Ah,” Caelen said, his posture stiffening. “Lady Ellaria. How unexpected.”

“Your Highness,” she said, her voice musical but cold. “I simply had to meet your… acquisition… for myself.”

Her eyes swept over me, lingering on my human clothing with obvious disapproval.

“Consort,” Caelen corrected sharply. “Blake Morgan, may I present Lady Ellaria of the Crystal Spires. She serves on my father’s council.”

I offered what I hoped was a polite nod. “Nice to meet you.”

“How charmingly rustic,” she said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Tell me, human, what qualified you for such an… elevated position? Beyond your exotic species, of course.”

Before I could formulate a response that wouldn’t get me turned into a toad, Caelen stepped slightly in front of me.

“The matchmakers’ selection is not to be questioned, Lady Ellaria. As you well know.”

Something like anger flashed in her perfect features before she masked it. “Of course, Your Highness. I merely wonder what special qualities this human possesses that the matchmakers found so… compelling.”

The implication was clear—she thought I was nothing but an exotic bedwarmer.

“I make a killer mushroom puff,” I said dryly.

Caelen’s wings twitched in what I was beginning to recognize as amusement, but Lady Ellaria looked affronted.

“You allow your consort such impertinence?” she asked Caelen.

“I value honesty and wit,” he replied coolly. “Qualities in short supply at court, wouldn’t you agree?”

The fairy lady’s wings fluttered in obvious agitation. “If you’ll excuse me, Your Highness, I have matters to attend to.” She swept away, her entourage following like perfectly coordinated shadows.

“I’m guessing she’s not a fan,” I said once they were out of earshot.

“Lady Ellaria had… expectations… regarding her own potential as a royal match,” Caelen said diplomatically.

“Ah. I stole her man,” I translated.

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Crudely put, but essentially correct. Though I was never hers to steal.”

We continued our garden tour, but I could feel Caelen’s mood had shifted. His wings were held more rigidly, his responses more measured.

“Does it bother you?” I asked finally. “Having a human consort instead of someone like her?”

He stopped walking, turning to face me fully. “Why would you think that?”

I shrugged, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “She’s one of your kind. Understands your customs. Probably knows which fork to use at fancy dinners. Doesn’t need flying lessons.”

Caelen studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, in a movement almost too quick to follow, he reached out and caught my hand in his.

“Blake,” he said, his voice lower and more intense than I’d heard it before, “the matchmakers do not make errors. If they selected you, it is because you possess qualities that complement me in ways Lady Ellaria and her kind never could.” His thumb traced small circles on my palm, sending shivers up my arm.

“Your difference is not a liability. It is precisely what makes you valuable.”

The sincerity in his voice made my chest tighten. “You don’t even know me,” I said, but it came out weaker than I intended.

“I am learning,” he countered, stepping closer. “I know you value honesty. You face fear with humor. You see beauty where others might not.” His free hand rose to touch my face, cool fingers tracing my cheekbone. “And when you flew with me last night, you trusted me despite every reason not to.”

I swallowed hard, unable to look away from his hypnotic gaze. “That’s not much to base a marriage on.”

“It is a beginning,” he said simply. Then, his hand still cupping my face, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against my forehead—a touch so light I might have imagined it if not for the tingling warmth it left behind.

He released me and stepped back, leaving me slightly dazed. “Now,” he said, his tone lightening, “would you care to see the moonbloom pond? The flowers only open for those they deem worthy.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice, and followed him deeper into the gardens. My forehead still tingled where his lips had touched, and the ghost of his thumb tracing circles on my palm seemed burned into my skin.

It’s just the magic bond , I repeated to myself. But with each passing hour, I was finding that harder to believe.

The moonbloom pond turned out to be a secluded grotto hidden behind a curtain of luminescent vines. Inside, a small pool of silver-blue water reflected the strange light from above, and floating on its surface were closed buds that looked like water lilies made of mother-of-pearl.

“They’re beautiful,” I said, kneeling at the edge of the pond.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Caelen replied, kneeling beside me. “Place your hand just above the water’s surface.”

I did as instructed, holding my palm a few inches above the still pool. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, one of the closed buds drifted toward my hand. As it approached, the petals began to unfurl, revealing an interior that glowed with soft blue light.

“It likes you,” Caelen said, sounding pleased.

“How can a flower like someone?” I asked, fascinated as more buds began drifting toward us, opening as they came.

“Moonblooms respond to genuine souls,” he explained. “They can sense deception or malice. Many courtiers cannot get a single bloom to open for them.”

“So they’re like flowery lie detectors,” I said, watching as a particularly large bloom opened directly beneath my hand.

“In a manner of speaking,” he agreed. He placed his own hand near mine, and several more blooms opened in response, their glow intensifying.

“They really like you,” I observed.

“I am their prince,” he said with a hint of humor. “They are obligated to like me.”

“I doubt these flowers care about royal titles,” I said. “They just know you’re decent.”

He looked surprised, then pleased. “You think me decent?”

“Well, you haven’t had me executed for sassing Lady Fancy Wings, so that’s a point in your favor.”

He laughed, the sound echoing softly in the grotto. “I find your ‘sassing’ refreshing.”

As we knelt there, hands hovering over the increasingly radiant flowers, I became acutely aware of how close we were—shoulders nearly touching, his wing occasionally brushing against my back in a way that seemed almost deliberate.

“Can I ask you something?” I said, watching the blooms pulse with light.

“Anything.”

“Your wings… they seem really sensitive. When I accidentally touched one at the wedding, you reacted like…” I trailed off, unsure how to politely say ‘like I’d touched somewhere inappropriate.’

A flush of violet spread across his cheekbones. “Fairy wings are… exceedingly sensitive, yes. Particularly to the touch of one’s… matched partner.”

“So when I touched your wing, it felt…”

“Intimate,” he supplied, his voice dropping lower. “Very intimate.”

“Oh,” I said, heat rising to my face. “Sorry about that, then.”

“I am not,” he said simply.

Our eyes met over the glowing pool, and something electric passed between us. One of his wings extended slightly, the edge brushing against my shoulder blade with deliberate slowness. Even through my shirt, the contact sent a jolt of pleasure down my spine.

“Caelen,” I breathed, not sure if it was a warning or an invitation.

He moved closer, his wing now pressed more firmly against my back. “The bond recognizes compatibility,” he murmured. “It does not create attraction where none exists.”

“So you’re saying…”

“I am saying,” he continued, his voice velvet soft, “that if my touch affects you, it is because your body already desired it. The magic merely… heightens what is already there.”

To demonstrate his point, he let his wing stroke down my back in a slow caress. The sensation was unlike anything I’d experienced—a tingling heat that spread from the point of contact throughout my entire body.

“Fuck,” I gasped, my hand dropping to brace against the stone edge of the pool.

“Such language,” he teased, but his eyes had darkened to deep indigo, pupils dilated.

“You did that on purpose,” I accused breathlessly.

“I did,” he admitted without a trace of remorse. “I wished to demonstrate my point.”

“Which is?”

“That there is something between us beyond magical coercion.” His wing brushed me again, lighter this time, and I couldn’t suppress a shiver. “The question is, what do you wish to do about it?”

I should have backed away. Should have maintained boundaries. Should have remembered I was essentially a prisoner in this realm, married against my will.

Instead, I reached out and gently traced the edge of his extended wing with my fingertip.

The effect was immediate and dramatic. Caelen’s entire body went rigid, his eyes fluttering closed as a sound somewhere between a gasp and a moan escaped his lips. The wing beneath my finger trembled, and I could see the pearlescent patterns on his skin begin to glow faintly.

“Blake,” he breathed, my name like a prayer on his lips.

Emboldened, I stroked my finger along the membrane of his wing, marveling at its texture—like the finest silk but warm and somehow alive. His reaction was intoxicating—each touch drawing another soft sound from him, his body leaning toward mine as if magnetized.

“Is this okay?” I asked, suddenly uncertain.

His eyes opened, now so dark they were nearly black with just a rim of violet. “More than okay,” he said, his voice rough. “But dangerous.”

“Dangerous how?”

Instead of answering, he surged forward, one hand capturing the back of my neck as his lips claimed mine.

The kiss was electric—literally. A current seemed to pass between us, making my lips tingle and my heart race. His mouth was cool at first but quickly warmed against mine, and he tasted like wild honey and something otherworldly I couldn’t name.

I should have pulled away. Instead, I found myself kissing him back, my hand still resting on his wing, feeling it quiver beneath my touch.

Caelen made a sound deep in his throat and deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against mine in a way that made heat pool in my lower belly. His free hand found my waist, pulling me closer until I was practically in his lap.

His wings enfolded us both, creating a cocoon of iridescent purple-blue that caught and refracted the light from the moonblooms. The sensation of being surrounded by them—by him—was intoxicating.

When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, the moonblooms in the pool were glowing so brightly they illuminated the entire grotto like daylight.

“That was…” I started, then faltered, unable to find adequate words.

“Indeed,” Caelen agreed, looking as dazed as I felt. His hand was still on my waist, his wings still partially curled around me.

“Is this the magic?” I asked, needing to know.

He shook his head slightly. “The magic may enhance, but it cannot create what isn’t there.” His thumb traced my lower lip, still sensitive from our kiss. “This is us, Blake. Simply us.”

I wanted to believe him. Wanted to surrender to the attraction that had been building since I first saw him at the wedding. But a part of me still resisted.

“I need time,” I said finally. “This is all happening so fast.”

To his credit, Caelen immediately withdrew his wings, though he looked reluctant to do so. “Of course,” he said, composing himself with visible effort. “I promised not to rush you, and I meant it.”

The loss of contact was both a relief and a disappointment. My body still hummed with desire, and the taste of him lingered on my lips.

“We should return to the palace,” he said, rising gracefully and offering me a hand. “The evening meal will be served soon.”

I took his hand, allowing him to pull me to my feet. As we left the grotto, I glanced back at the pool. The moonblooms were slowly closing again, their glow dimming, but several remained open, tracking our movement like silent observers.

The walk back to the palace was quiet, both of us lost in thought. Occasionally our hands or arms would brush, sending smaller versions of that electric current through me each time.

What am I doing? I wondered. Kissing fairy princes in magic gardens? I should be looking for a way home, not… whatever this is.

But as we reached the palace and Caelen turned those incredible eyes on me once more, I had to admit—maybe being stuck in the fairy realm wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened to me after all.

“Until dinner?” he said, more question than statement.

I nodded, already anticipating seeing him again despite my better judgment. “Until dinner.”

As I watched him walk away, wings slightly extended in what I was beginning to recognize as contentment, I realized I was in serious trouble. Because fairy magic or not, I was definitely starting to fall for Prince Caelen.