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Summer

I stare at the screen as the phone continues to vibrate. Cautiously, I swipe my thumb along the bottom, accepting the call.

“H-hello?”

“Little fae.”

I relax immediately as the stranger’s voice sends a trickle of warmth down my spine.

“Stranger.” I exhale.

“What’s wrong?”

“I get a call from a blocked number while playing cat and mouse with a serial killer? It’s going to freak me out.”

The stranger laughs darkly, and I relax.

“How did you get my number?”

“I’ve always had it.” I hear his smirk.

“Right. Good with computers,” I say wryly.

He laughs again, and then I hear him sit down. “Is everything all right?”

I sigh. “Yeah.”

“Doesn’t sound like it?”

I stare up at the ceiling. “Can we just talk about… anything else for a while?”

The stranger clears his throat. “Anything?”

“Anything,” I whisper.

“Would you like to hear about my last trip to Faerie?”

My heart skips a beat, and I roll to my side, pulling my twig from Faerie out and holding it to my chest. “Please.”

I hear the stranger exhale as if he had just lifted something heavy, and suddenly, my room is no longer my room. I sit up in my bed and look around at the forest now surrounding me. Blue and white fae lights line the pathway between the trees, and the canopy is so thick that barely any natural light penetrates. There is the faintest scent of evergreen and pine, and I eagerly sit up and move to the edge of my bed. I put my feet down, expecting to feel the soft soil of the outdoors, but I can still feel my plush rug.

Fae wander through the trees and go about their business. I have never seen anything more beautiful than this place. Tucked back into the forest, on the outskirts of the town, I can see magical little houses with wicker roofs and stone paths leading to their doors.

“I wanted to escape, and it was easy to slip away here.”

The stranger’s voice grounds me in the present, but my attention is on a young boy running across a grassy meadow. He’s blurred, and I can only see enough to know he’s maybe around eight or nine. There is a muffled shout, and the boy looks back. Whatever he sees propels him forward, sprinting as fast as his young legs can manage.

I watch, completely captivated, as he gets deeper into the forest and slows. The boy stops in front of a towering trunk and stares up at it. Though I can’t see his expression, I can feel his awe at the sight of the great tree. He reaches out and presses his small hand to the bark, and I gasp when a door appears. He looks around furtively before slipping through, and I eagerly follow him on his journey. The path is dark, but he traverses it with confidence, and I gasp again when the tunnel opens to reveal what can only be described as a magic library.

The Great Library of Faerie.

“I knew the great library was there, but I never knew how to find it. I’m unsure why it opened for me, yet it did, and it was the most incredible sight I had ever seen. To this day, it remains one of the most wonderful things I’ve ever seen.”

After the darkness of the path, the light is blinding for a split second before everything comes more into focus. Trees have molded and wound around the books, forming shelves, supports, and nooks. Their branches are adorned with words in Ancient Daoine Sith as if the books and the words within have become fully entwined with nature. Fae lights bounce through the stacks, illuminating titles written in every color imaginable. I catch sight of something written in Elder Daoine Sith, and I gasp and squeal at the same time. The boy and I stand together, looking around in awe.

This library is a living entity.

The boy walks through the library, ignored by the few fae inside. He explores the stacks, taking in the ornate beauty of the tomes. The projection is so potent that I swear I can smell the musky, heady scent of old books. The boy stops, and I feel his confusion as he stares at a pedestal in the center of the library. It glows, faint and then bright, pulsing as if it is the heartbeat of the library.

“I couldn’t resist,” the stranger’s voice croons as the boy walks closer.

The book is one that I immediately recognize. It is the one the stranger gifted me at Yule, the one I have yet to destroy. The one still burning a hole in my wardrobe.

The boy’s fingers tremble as he reaches for the book. He is expecting pain, but the book just continues to beat steadily. He picks it up, and the pulse starts to slow. It feels like something is dying. The boy panics and clutches the book to his chest, running from the library in fear.

“I was afraid I would get in trouble. So I kept it.”

The boy runs back through the woods, and I can see his legs are threatening to give out. A spike of fear shoots through me when I see a tall, blurry figure in the distance. The boy falls to the ground, landing hard, and the whole world starts to shake. He looks around, and I can feel the surge of his fear. The tremors grow more intense, and I imagine I can feel the vibration through my feet. The ground directly beneath the boy’s hand cracks and parts, the very fabric of Faerie eroding around him.

I cling to the twig, a tear sliding down my cheek as grief and fear tear at me.

“I should have stayed close. I shouldn’t have gone exploring by myself.”

I hold my breath as the story continues to play out. The world rocks again, and the boy lets out a scared yell as he gets to his feet and starts running again. In his panic, he runs into a girl not much older than him, with light blue eyes just like mine. She’s holding a bundle of blankets, and she looks at the boy, her chest heaving. She says something, but I can’t make it out. The boy concentrates on something, but this memory is fractured, and I can’t tell what is happening.

Suddenly, my room looks like my room again. I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding. The stranger is silent on the other side of the line.

“What happened then?” I ask, feeling like the story ended on a cliffhanger.

“I don’t know.”

I look down at the twig.

“Little fae?”

“Hm?”

“I just thought… you should see a glimpse of your home.”

We sit in silence for a long moment. “Stranger? How did you know to call me?”

“It’s almost an instinct. I felt like you needed to talk.”

I return the twig to my drawer and lie down again.

“It’s weird. It’s almost like hearing your voice in my head,” he says thoughtfully.

“I was about to call you, too.” I take a deep breath. “Can I ask you something? And I need you to be really honest with me.”

“Of course.”

“Are Connor and I moving too fast?” I know the question is unfair. But I also believe that someone who understands me as deeply as he does will know the answer. While Alice’s answer mollified my worries, she’s only seen a snapshot of my darkness. She doesn’t really understand its magnitude.

The stranger is silent for so long that I wonder if he’s ended the call.

“Stranger?”

“What would you be like today if you had never met him?” he asks.

My brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

He clears his throat. “Do you think he’s changed you?”

I shift to lie on my back. “Yes. I’m definitely warmer now. More open and learning how to trust and be trusted.”

“Do you think he’ll continue to do so? Change you?”

I pause, honestly considering the question. “I’m not sure.”

“Then, yes. You’re moving too fast.”

My heart sinks, aching with the truth. “What?”

“He’s not going to challenge you to change, to become more. To fulfill your potential.”

“Right,” I whisper, trying to truly hear what he is saying and not reject his words outright.

“You’re young. I think you’re rushing things,” the stranger continues, and I close my eyes. “You must sense it too, or you wouldn’t have asked.”

“I tried to talk to Alice about it.”

“And?”

“She doesn’t understand. She asked if there was someone else.”

“Angels aren’t like fae. They don’t have predestined mates. I don’t know if he’s the one for you.”

“Mates,” I say, rolling my eyes. That’s all barbaric and misogynistic bullshit.

“What?”

“Nothing.” I need to change the subject because, truthfully, the only time I feel like we’re rushing things is when I’m not physically with Connor. So, it might just be nerves, and I have to believe it’s just nerves. “Look up TuathaToday .”

“What? Why?”

“Just type it in.”

I hear him shift and then typing on his laptop. The silence changes from comfortable to rage-filled. “What is this?” he hisses, the anger in his voice sending a thrill to my core.

“You know how the headmaster has a stalker page? This one is for fae.”

“These are all pictures of you,” he growls, the sound deadly.

“Stranger?”

“I have to go,” he snarls, and the line goes dead.

I sit up, staring at the dark screen in shock. Finally, I set the phone aside and start to get ready for bed. Undressing, I pull on one of Connor’s t-shirts, wash my face, and brush my teeth. The entire time, I am replaying the sound of rage in the stranger’s voice. There might be something really wrong with me because a dark, wicked part of me… liked it.

I just slipped back beneath the covers when my phone alerts again. I unlock it, and a live feed opens, showing an alleyway somewhere in what looks like Camelot. Through the gloom, I see a shifter leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette. I am pretty sure his name is Jake.

Suddenly, he is jerked off his feet and thrown, smashing into the opposite wall. I jump and nearly drop my phone. I rest my hand on the pillow and watch in horror as an invisible entity beats him to within an inch of his life. His shifter friends arrive but struggle to help, given they can’t see the attacker. I look around, trying to figure out what I need to do. Should I contact the headmaster? He is off school grounds. Maybe I should contact law enforcement in Camelot. My phone vibrates again.

Incoming call:

Unknown.

I answer the call.

“It’s taken care of,” the stranger snarls down the line. I pull the phone from my ear and search TuathaToday. It looks like it has been wiped from existence. I can’t find even a trace of it.

“I… Was that… you?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, but then he growls, “The page is down.”

“Stranger,” I whisper. “It was you.”

He pauses for a long moment. “Yes.”

I expect to feel fear, disgust, and horror, but my stomach flutters, and my skin tingles.

“Are you afraid?” he asks darkly, and I swallow my moan.

“No.” I silently curse at how low and husky my voice sounds. Fuck. Stop it, Summer. This is dark.

“No?” he asks, a rumbling purr of interest edging into his voice.

“No.”

“What are you then?” he asks dangerously.

“I… Boundaries!” I know it reveals too much, but it is all I can muster.

“Oh. I should hang up, right?”

“Probably,” I grate out.

He doesn’t hang up, and neither do I.

I relax my hand on the phone when it creaks, unsure when I started holding it in a death grip.

“He had a video of you… changing,” he says, his voice furious and so damn sexy.

“What?” I hadn’t seen that on the page. How the fuck did he get that?

“He had more than was on the page,” he growls.

“Did you watch it?” I ask, unsure what answer I want to hear.

“No. I shattered his phone, skull, and then his hard drive. Once I saw it was your face, I couldn’t continue.”

“Oh.”

“I wanted to kill him,” he growls darkly.

I swallow, knowing that a shifter would heal from a broken skull, but damn, it would be painful and slow. “Because he made the page?”

“Because he saw you naked. Because he got to see what does not belong to him.”

My breath hitches. “Stranger…”

“Because he saw what belongs to me ,” he snarls, sounding feral. “You belong to me .”

“W-What?” My whole body tenses.

“You can enjoy the boy because I am held in check by circumstances, but in the end, it will be you and me.” His voice sounds even darker and more dangerous.

“Stranger,” I warn, but my voice shakes. I will never admit it to anyone else, but it’s not because I am afraid.

“Your name will never be Summer Morningstar,” he snarls, and the line goes dead.