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I dare myself to peer up at his face. His cheekbones cast deep shadows on his strangely vibrant skin.

The angles of his jaw and chin look sharper, his mouth fuller.

It’s like every feature that makes him good-looking has been dialed up to ten.

He’s so stunning I can hardly breathe. Rime too.

I’m mesmerized by the both of them. They’re wildly, savagely beautiful.

Like wolves or panthers. Or rugged, snow-capped mountains.

Rime gapes. “She can see us.”

Topaz’s gasp comes from somewhere nearby. “But you two are glamoured.”

Calmly, Rime crouches in front of me. “What do you see, little psychic?”

“This can’t be real.”

“What do you see?”

They’re going to think I’ve lost my mind. “Your eyes—and your faces—they’re different.” I look back and forth between them. Golden eyes, red eyes, radiant skin, chiseled features.

Rime turns his head to the side and uses his long fingers to comb back his hair. “And these?”

I blurt, “Elf ears.”

He sucks in a sharp breath.

“You can see everything,” Leo whispers, stunned.

“They’re not real,” I insist. “They can’t be real.”

“They’re real,” Rime says. “Touch them.”

No way.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise. ”

Rime’s ear is soft and delicate, just like mine or anyone else’s. But as I trace a wary finger along the outer edge of the shell, I feel a sharp point at the top, instead of a curve. This is no hallucination. His ear is warm and smooth and very real.

Rime rubs his jaw and stares at me in awe. “She’s incredibly powerful.”

“I know.” Leo clutches one of my hands to his chest. “Betts, look at me.”

Look at me . What he said to me last night, mere hours ago, when we were together in bed, both of us lost in the throes…

I choke on a gulp. “What are you?”

“I’m not human.”

Rime cuts in, “We’re fae.”

Fae. “Faeries?”

They both nod.

I shrink back, shaking my head. God, what the fuck was in my cup of coffee?!

“Betts—” Leo pleads. “It’s true. We’re real.” He reaches for me as I crab walk away, but Rime thrusts an arm out to block him.

“But…but how?” I splutter. “Where…?”

“We’re from a place called Nàdar,” Rime answers. “The Northern Isles of the Tuatha Dé Danann.”

What the ever-living fuck?

I ladle through the soup in my brain, trying to dredge up any knowledge of the fae.

I’ve heard those words before, Tuatha Dé Danann.

I’ve streamed the shows, seen the movies, read the most popular fantasy-romance books.

Supposedly, faeries live underground or beyond the mist. They’re powerful, amoral, and hundreds of years old.

In stories .

Because faeries. Aren’t. Real.

I splutter, “Are you immortal?”

“No,” says Rime. “But we usually live a decade or so longer than you. ”

Laughter burbles out of me—hysterical, maniacal laughter. “What about Santa? And the Easter Bunny?” I’m coming apart. “Oh, I know—werewolves! Are they real too?”

Rime and Leo exchange frowns as Topaz edges into my peripheral vision. All three of them are so horrifyingly, breathtakingly beautiful.

“Wings?” I blather. “Where are your wings? Aren’t you supposed to have them?” I do. They still sit atop my bookshelf, only half-mended.

Leo says, “We don’t have wings.”

All the legends and myths tangle in my mind. “But you can go out in the sun. It doesn’t hurt you.” No wait, that’s vampires. I give a wild shake of my head. I’m so stupid. This is so stupid.

Leo scoops me up into his arms. “Give me a minute,” he tells the others.

I’m in too much shock to fight him as he carries me down the hall and sets me on his bed. I lie back, roll to my side, sit up. But no matter what position I’m in, I can’t breathe.

Leo lowers himself down in front of me.

“The gold in your eyes—” I reach out with trembling fingers, like I can catch the stars in his dark irises. “I’ve seen it before. Why do they do that?”

Those twinkling stars flash even brighter. “You’ve seen it before?”

I try to swallow, but my throat doesn’t work. I barely manage a nod.

“When?”

Oh god, when? I don’t know, I can’t think. But then it comes to me. “When I drew from you.”

He takes me by the shoulders, eyes widening in wonder. “Your power’s getting stronger.”

He’s talking nonsense again. And he still looks like a faerie.

“How do you do that? How do you make yourself look like that?”

“I don’t. You’re seeing through my glamour. You’ve been seeing through my glamour, that’s how powerful you are.” He waves a hand in front of his face, but nothing happens. He does it again and I see—Yes! There he is. Warm brown eyes, softened features. My Leo. “Do I look normal to you now?”

I nod, relieved. See? It was just a dream.

“This is a glamour. And this—” With a mere flick of his hand, he becomes radiant again. Gold in his eyes. Pointed ears. “—is what I look like without it.”

No.

No, no, no.

I heave in a breath, but it doesn’t quite fill my lungs. I have to be dreaming. Or maybe this is all some elaborate prank. Is it April Fool’s? No, it can’t be. It’s cold out. I think it’s February.

“Betts.” Leo gently takes hold of my head.

“Faeries aren’t real.”

“Most people think psychics aren’t real either, but you know they are.”

Why won’t he back down? Why does he keep on torturing me? I grab at his hands, trying to peel them off my face. “You’re not a faerie. You’re Leo.” My eyes swim with tears. “Just Leo.”

He replaces his glamour. “I’m the same Leo,” he insists, sensing my rising panic. “The one you sit and read with in the library. The one who understands your gift. The one who’s always tried to protect you.”

“No. Leo’s not a faerie.” My Leo is human.

“Betts.” His eyes chase down mine. They’re merciless. Insistent. “I’ve glamoured myself invisible so Zander and your friends wouldn’t see me.”

I gulp as memories replay in my mind. Zander not seeing Leo when we came out of the O-Chi pantry. Lara’s double take when Leo and I were getting too close at the Halloween party. The fact that Zander didn’t see Leo last night in the library until Leo was close enough to grab him.

Leo’s voice drops to a strangled whisper. “I’ve healed you.” He cradles the arm Zander bruised, brushing a thumb gently over the area that, thanks to him, is healthy and unmarred. “So why is this so hard to believe?”

Tears drop onto my cheeks. Glamours, healing, playing tricks on people’s eyes? How else has he enchanted me? What’s magic and what’s real? “It’s not that I can’t believe it, it’s that I don’t want to.”

His thick brows dip, shadowing the anguish in his eyes. “Betts?—”

“Zander was right. You’ve been lying to me for months.” Philly? Oxford? Robin? Humiliation scrapes my heart raw. “I thought faeries couldn’t lie.”

“That’s a myth.”

“How am I supposed to know what’s true? Why should I believe a single thing you say?”

He groans my name and pulls me into his arms. “I made a mistake. I should’ve told you a long time ago. I wanted to, but I was so afraid of scaring you away. And then the closer we got—” He pushes back, desperately searching my eyes. “—the harder it was to tell you the truth.”

When he claims my mouth, my mind goes blank. But only for a heartbeat. Who—or what —is kissing me?

His eyes fill with pain when I push him away. “I’m a coward, Betts. I’m sorry. I was just so afraid of losing you.”

I tumble off the bed, somehow landing on my feet. “I can’t. I just—I can’t.” With my sleeve, I swipe at my tear-soaked face. Looking at that bed, looking at him, and thinking of last night—I can’t do it. My heart is imploding.

“Betts—” He makes one last attempt to hold me, but I twist out of his arms.

“I need to go.”

Without a backward glance, I escape down the hall.

In my peripheral vision are the shapes of Topaz and Rime, but I can’t bear to look them in the face.

Leo comes after me, calling my name, begging me not to go.

But he knows better than to physically restrain me.

I snag his keys from the coffee table and grab my backpack as I open the door.

Leo pleads, “Betts, don’t.”

“I’m taking your car. I’ll get it back to you…somehow.” I can’t think that far into the future. I need to get out of here, now.

Out on the landing I hear Topaz’s voice, coming from inside, “Let her go.”

“Give her a day or two,” Rime sagely adds.

Leo resists following me as I scramble down the metal stairs.

The inside of his car smells like him—like autumn leaves—that scent that I always found so calming. The man I found so calming. It was probably all a spell.

And since when do faeries drive cars?

This is insane.

I can’t even.

I make it all the way out of the apartment complex and into town before I fall apart.

I pull into the deserted municipal lot by the downtown playground, throw open the door, and vomit into the grass beside the still-running car.

When my stomach is empty and the clamminess fades, I drop my head onto the steering wheel and sob.

I don’t know how long I cry in Leo’s car, but eventually I run out of tears.

I’m hyperventilating like a four-year-old after a tantrum, sucking in my bottom lip and shuddering.

Splotches cover my cheeks, and my eyes are rimmed in red.

I don’t know what to do or where to go. There isn’t a soul on earth—or fucking Fairyland—that I want to see or talk to right now.

But I don’t need auto theft on my record either.

I drive out to East Main and parallel park like a true suburbanite. It’ll have to do. Heart racing and feet pounding, I hurry up the hill and down the stairs to Avery’s apartment door. With fingers crossed, I slip Leo’s keys through the mail slot, then tear up the steps and out of sight.

I don’t stop jogging until I’ve turned the corner onto Main. There, I shoot Avery a text: I parked Leo’s car in front of the copy shop and put his keys in your mail slot. Please let him know. As I make for my dorm, I slip my phone into my backpack. I’m not answering any replies.

World Religions starts in half an hour, but I’m in no shape to attend classes. I’m in no shape to do anything. My whole world has just gone up in flames and there isn’t a single piece of me that didn’t get burned.