Page 7

May

Despite my protest, Aldronn pulls me away from the elderberries and hoists me onto Starfall’s back.

“Really ripe elderberries have very little of the pre-toxin,” I say. Mom always showed me how to wait until the tiny berries were a dark purple-black before letting me eat a few when we picked them for jelly.

“You keep saying that word as if it means nothing.” He settles in behind me. His thighs clamp around mine, his large body engulfing my back.

A shiver of awareness goes through me, and I can barely squeeze out, “What word?”

“Toxin,” he growls.

“I know what it means! I studied!” You don’t backpack around the world without learning everything you can about the places you’re going to. I like to visit nature preserves as much as big cities, and knowing what you can eat in the wild is an interest I picked up from Mom. “The leaves and flowers are much more dangerous, and the berries when they’re green are bad, too. But with ripe ones, you have to eat a lot for it to be a problem, and there’s no way I’m eating three pounds of elderberries in one go.”

He grunts—fucking grunts —but doesn’t say anything as the unicorn takes off again.

“Why are you going all He-Man on me?”

Aldronn growls, “I don’t know what that means.”

“Why did you overreact about the elderberries?”

“I did not overreact—I acted decisively. There’s a difference.”

“Not much of one from where I’m sitting,” I say.

Starfall snorts. “She has a point.”

“I can’t bear the thought of you injured in any way.” His fingers dig into my stomach as he pulls me more tightly to him, and he leans over to growl in my ear. “The mate bond tugs me this way and that, demanding I protect you, until I am a puppet dancing on strings.” His deep voice drops impossibly lower, the sound raising goosebumps all over my body. “I am a king, unused to being commanded, unable to be gracious about it. Yet know this, my little queen. I will protect you unto my dying breath.”

My heart skips at the promise in his words, but my rebellious nature won’t let it go. “You literally just met me.”

“It doesn’t matter. We are already bound. I am yours.” His breath washes hot over my ear, sending tingles rushing through me. “And you are mine .”

Is he telling the truth? I grip my crystal and scrunch my eyes closed, but no matter how hard I try, nothing happens. Stupid power. Why is it so erratic? Then I snort. It’s me, the hot mess. Why would my magic be any different?

If Aldronn’s not used to being commanded, I’m not used to anyone having my back. Sure, at home in Ferndale Falls, I’ve got my friends and my dad and the entire town watching out for me. But when I travel, all I can count on is me. Every stranger might be truly nice… or waiting to take advantage. This mind reading thing would have been really useful over the last few years. Sometimes it’s so hard to walk through the world as a woman alone, and it totally sucks.

The streets of a new city that looked so happy in bright daylight turned sinister after sunset, when there aren’t enough lights. The youth-hostel host who stared at my backpack just a little too hard when I asked if I could leave it for the day, making me weigh the pros and cons of lugging it around versus “losing” an item or two.

All of it’s worth it, though. Because otherwise, I never would have met the elderly woman on the train in Belgium, who shared some of the best chocolate I’ve ever tasted. Or the boy at the Taj Mahal, who offered to take my picture and—instead of running off with my phone like the guidebooks warned—played with the camera settings until he got professional-level shots better than anything I can do. A thousand little kindnesses, all out there, waiting to be found.

Nothing tops the way Aldronn fought the ogre for me, though. Everything he told me about this new world makes it clear that Mom’s stories covered only the sweet side of Faerie. It’s far more dangerous than children’s tales.

And I need to learn a lot more about it.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“We’re traveling south, toward the Dular Mountains, where we’ll meet Naomi, so she can take us back to Moon Blade Village.”

“Wait. Naomi?” He can’t mean my best friend, can he? Excitement zips through me, and I twist in my seat to stare at him. “Did you say Naomi?”

“Yes, she’s the human witch with the ability to far travel.”

“And what’s far travel when it’s at home, lounging on the sofa on a Sunday?” I glance over my shoulder.

“Is this another of your colloquial expressions?” He frowns down at me. “Faerie’s translation magic is very literal. Those never make sense.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get your knickers in a twist.” I wave a dismissive hand and purposefully use another “colloquial expression” I picked up in China, where English is more heavily influenced by the UK than the US. “I just asked what far travel means.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he says in that haughty way he has.

God, could this guy get more arrogant?

“It means she can travel far distances in only a second. She uses a word similar to the human one for your power, teleport.”

“Teleportation!” Can it really be my friend? Is this the “exciting new job” Naomi wouldn’t tell me about over the phone? “That’s amazing!”

“Humph.” Starfall shakes her head. “You’re not the one who has to shift into a lesser form to do it.”

“Shift?” I ask. “As in shape shift?”

“Unfortunately,” she says dryly. “As if any other shape could be as glorious as my natural unicorn form.”

“Starfall doesn’t enjoy her fae form,” Aldronn says.

“Why should I? Being a biped is pitiful compared to the real me. That form doesn’t have a horn and can’t run anywhere near as fast.” As if to prove her point, she speeds into a full gallop, the forest racing by in a blur.

Aldronn leans forward, pushing me lower over the unicorn’s neck, his huge body wrapping around me to take the sting of whipping branches.

Yep. I never thought I’d say it—and I’m sure as shit not admitting it out loud to Mr. Bossy Pants—but this being protected thing isn’t half bad.

We ride for hours, Starfall never needing a break. I’ve only done a little horseback riding, but it’s enough to know most horses can’t gallop safely for that long. When I ask her about it, she scoffs, “I’m no horse! I’m a unicorn .”

“What my old friend is trying to say,” Aldronn interjects, “is that unicorns have healing magic. They self heal as they run. It gives them amazing stamina.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She turns her head, spearing us with a crystalline-blue eye. “I’m amazing. You said so yourself.”

“It was never in doubt.” He pats her neck.

“Can you heal other people, too?” I wiggle on her back, my butt and thighs protesting the unusual strain of riding for so long. “I could use some healing right about now.”

“Only in special circumstances, which I hope to never need to use on you,” she says.

“Uh, okay.” I thought she liked me.

“Unicorns don’t have general healing powers,” Aldronn says. “Their magic only works on another person when that person is on the brink of death.”

“Oh.” I curl my fingers into her silky mane. “In that case, yeah, I sure as shit hope you never have to use it.”

Evening falls as we break through a stand of the gorgeous blue birch trees. A meadow opens out in front of us, tall grass bending in the breeze until the wind-tossed blades resemble a miniature ocean. Wild flowers add splashes of color, catching the last of the daylight to blaze in yellows and blues. Mountains smudge the horizon ahead in a jagged wash of purple, and orange and pink streak the deepening blue of the sky overhead.

It’s heart-stoppingly beautiful.

“We’ll camp here,” Aldronn says.

“I can continue.” Starfall doesn’t slow her pace, carrying us into the center of the meadow.

“You haven’t eaten well for days.” Aldronn’s tone rings with command. “And I need to hunt.”

“There isn’t any water.”

Yet as soon as the unicorn says it, her quick gallop brings us to the other side of the meadow, the tall grass parting to show a creek running along the border. She comes to an abrupt halt, and I sway too far forward. Only Aldronn’s hand on my stomach keeps me upright.

“You were saying?” he says with dry amusement.

“Fine.” The unicorn stomps the ground. “We’ll camp here.”

Aldronn slips from her back, then reaches up for me.

I groan as he pulls me from the saddle, my butt and thighs sore. I walk a lot when I travel, but the muscles used are different than riding.

“Are you all right?” His dark eyes bore into me, his hands gripping my shoulders. He stands easily, exuding power and strength, looking as if riding for hours means nothing to him. My gaze flicks down to where the leather clings to his muscular thighs.

No way in hell I’m admitting I’m sore to this god-like guy. I lift my chin. “I’m fine.”

He gives me one last look, so piercing I fight the urge to squirm—it feels like he can see right through me. Then he nods and releases my shoulders.

Starfall finishes drinking and starts eating, ripping up huge mouthfuls of grass and grinding them quickly between her jaws before going back for more. Aldronn was right—she clearly needs to eat.

A small smile curls my lips as he removes the saddlebags and saddle from her back and strokes soothing hands over where the tack rested. He might be bossy and grumpy, but he also really cares about others.

“Come.” He hoists the saddle onto one shoulder with effortless strength, even though both fully packed saddlebags still dangle from it. “We’ll make camp over here.”

He turns ninety degrees from the direction we were headed and strides toward one of the long sides of the meadow.

The grass swishes against my legs as I follow, and birds begin to sing, no longer disturbed by Starfall’s passage. Combined with the soft babble of the brook, it’s like one of those relaxing nature soundscapes you can get from an app. But it’s real.

He stops near the tree line, the light already lower among the pines.

“Why are we so far from the creek?” I ask.

“Two reasons.” He pulls a tent from one of the saddlebags and sets it up with the kind of smooth proficiency I wouldn’t expect from a king. Doesn’t he have servants who do everything for him?

“First, the ground near the creek might be wetter than it seems, and even though the tent is bespelled to be waterproof, there’s no point in packing it away wet tomorrow.” He opens another saddlebag, pulls out glossy, dark-brown furs, and spreads them across the tent floor. “Second, creeks attract animals, which in turn attract predators. There’s no sense inviting trouble if we don’t have to.”

“Gotcha.” Good to know. I might backpack around the world, but I rarely camp out in nature. I’m more of a “thank god there’s a shower and a bed” kind of girl.

Ugh. Shower. Why did I have to think about that? Now my skin itches all over. I can’t help it and give a full-body squirm.

“What is it?” Those sharp eyes of his sure don’t miss a thing. When I explain, he hands me a bright-white square of fabric. “This is a cleaning cloth. It’s imbued with magic. Use it, and when you wet it, it will become clean and ready to use again.”

“Over and over?” I take it from him, my eyes going wide.

“Over and over,” he repeats. “You can use it on your hair and clothes, too.”

“Yes!” I trot back toward the creek, my new favorite thing in hand. A moan of delight slips from my lips as I drag the cloth over my face, magic tingling across my skin.

Aldronn makes a strangled sound behind me, then stalks past without even glancing at me. “I will return with dinner.”

What’s gotten into him?

I stare for a few seconds until he disappears into the trees, then shrug and pull my T-shirt over my head.