Page 13 of Fairy’s Forbidden Touch (Wings & Whispers #2)

Three months later

“You’re late,” Maya announced as I let myself into her apartment for our weekly dinner. “The pasta’s getting cold.”

“Sorry,” I said, dropping into my usual chair at her small dining table. “Court politics ran long. You would not believe how much debate can happen over the proper protocol for seating arrangements at a solstice celebration.”

She shook her head, serving generous portions of her signature garlic pesto pasta. “Still weird hearing you talk about ‘court politics’ like it’s normal.”

“Tell me about it,” I agreed, digging into the food. After weeks of fae cuisine—beautiful but often lacking in familiar flavors—Maya’s cooking was a welcome return to normalcy. “How’s the new job going?”

“Good! The firm’s talking about putting me on the Anderson account, which would be huge.” She studied me across the table. “You look different. Again.”

I self-consciously touched my hair, which had grown longer than I’d ever worn it before—a concession to fae aesthetics. “Too much?”

“Not that,” she clarified. “Just… you’re still changing. Something about your eyes.”

I avoided her gaze, focusing on the pasta.

The physical changes had started subtly about a month after the bond acknowledgment—my skin taking on a barely perceptible glow in certain lights, my eyes developing tiny flecks of violet that were noticeable only up close.

Thalen had explained it as the natural consequence of the bond—my human physiology gradually adapting to accommodate the extended lifespan and magical connection.

“It’s the bond thing,” I admitted. “Apparently, it’s still… settling.”

Maya took a sip of her wine. “And how’s married life treating you? Or bonded life, or whatever you call it.”

“It’s good. Complicated, but good.” I twirled pasta around my fork, considering how to explain the reality of dividing my life between realms. “Thalen’s been amazing, helping me navigate all the court stuff.

And I’m teaching him more about the human world—we’re working our way through the Marvel movies. ”

She laughed. “How’s he liking those?”

“He has very strong opinions about Thor’s portrayal. Apparently, the real Thor is ‘much more dignified and significantly less prone to emotional outbursts.’”

“Wait—Thor is real?!” Maya nearly choked on her wine.

I grinned. “Different realm, but yeah. Most of the old gods are real beings from various realms that intersect with ours. That’s been one of the weirder revelations.”

“Jesus,” she muttered. “Next you’ll tell me Santa Claus is your neighbor.”

“Winter Court adjacent,” I said casually, then laughed at her expression. “Kidding! Probably.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe my disaster of a cousin ended up magically married to fairy royalty.”

“Fae,” I corrected automatically, earning an eye roll.

“Whatever. The point is, you went from crashing on my couch to living in a crystal palace in the trees. That’s quite the upgrade.”

“I still have my apartment,” I reminded her. “We split time between realms. The café even kept me on for three shifts a week.”

“How’s that working out? Having a prince serving coffee to other fairy—sorry, fae?”

“He doesn’t actually work there,” I clarified. “He just visits during my shifts. And Pix loves it—says having royalty hanging around is good for business.”

We continued catching up—Maya filling me in on family gossip and her dating life, me carefully editing my tales of fae court to keep them somewhat believable.

Despite the extraordinary turns my life had taken, these normal moments with Maya remained precious—anchors to the human world I was determined not to leave behind.

After dinner, as we were cleaning up, Maya asked the question I’d been dreading: “Have you told Mom and Dad yet? About any of this?”

I winced. “Not exactly. I mean, they know I’m seeing someone serious, but I haven’t gotten into the ‘he’s from another realm and oh by the way I’m going to live for centuries’ part of it.”

“You’ll have to tell them eventually,” she pointed out. “Especially once the physical changes become more noticeable.”

“I know.” I sighed, leaning against the counter. “Thalen’s actually been pushing for it too. He thinks we should invite them to a formal introduction in the fae realm.”

Maya raised her eyebrows. “Mom would absolutely lose her mind. In a good way, probably.”

“Or she’d think I’ve joined a cult with really good special effects,” I countered.

“True.” She finished drying the last plate, then turned to face me directly. “Seriously though, Jesse. Are you happy? Really happy? Because that’s all that matters to me.”

The question made me pause and really consider the whirlwind my life had become.

The daily navigation between worlds, learning fae protocols while teaching Thalen human customs, the occasional political tensions that still surfaced around our bond.

It was complicated, exhausting sometimes, and unlike anything I could have imagined for myself.

And yet…

“I am,” I said with absolute certainty. “Happier than I’ve ever been. It’s not easy, but it’s right. He’s right.”

She studied my face, then nodded, apparently satisfied with what she saw. “Good. That’s all I needed to know.”

As if summoned by our conversation, the crystal communication device in my pocket chimed with Thalen’s distinctive tone. I pulled it out to find a message floating above its surface:

Proceedings concluded earlier than anticipated. May I join you at your cousin’s dwelling? I have acquired the “ice cream” you recommended for social gatherings.

I smiled, typing back a quick affirmative. “Thalen’s on his way,” I told Maya. “Hope that’s okay. He’s bringing ice cream.”

“The fairy prince is bringing dessert to my apartment,” she said with a laugh. “Sure, why not? My life has gotten way more interesting since you started dating outside your species.”

“Very funny,” I said, though I couldn’t help smiling.

Twenty minutes later, a precise knock announced Thalen’s arrival.

I opened the door to find him standing there in what he considered “casual human attire”—perfectly tailored trousers and a simple silk shirt, his silver hair in a loose braid over one shoulder.

He held a bag containing what appeared to be several pints of premium ice cream.

“Greetings,” he said, then after a beat, added a more casual, “Hello.”

Three months of exposure to human customs had made him more comfortable with informality, though he still slipped into princely formality when nervous or tired.

“Hey,” I said, leaning in to kiss him briefly. “Come in. Maya and I were just finishing up.”

He stepped inside, offering the bag to Maya with a slight bow. “I brought frozen dairy confections in various flavors. The shopkeeper assured me these were of superior quality.”

Maya accepted the bag, peeking inside. “H?agen-Dazs. Definitely superior quality. Thanks, Your Highness.”

“Thalen, please,” he corrected gently. “Titles are unnecessary among family.”

The simple statement—acknowledging Maya as family—made something warm unfurl in my chest. Through our bond, I felt Thalen’s sincerity, his genuine affection for my cousin who had, in his words, “nurtured Jesse through difficult times.”

“Well, Thalen,” Maya said, getting bowls from the cabinet, “you’re just in time to help me convince Jesse to tell our parents about your whole situation.”

He raised an eyebrow in my direction. “Indeed? I have been suggesting the same for some time.”

“Ganging up on me isn’t fair,” I protested as Maya began scooping ice cream.

“We merely wish for you to experience the support of your full family circle,” Thalen said diplomatically. “My parents have expressed interest in meeting your progenitors as well.”

“And that doesn’t sound intimidating at all,” I muttered. “Hey Mom and Dad, meet my boyfriend’s parents—the immortal king and queen of the fairy realm!”

“Fae,” Thalen corrected automatically, making Maya laugh.

“You two are adorable,” she declared, handing us each a bowl of ice cream. “Like an old married couple already, with your little corrections and inside jokes.”

Thalen looked pleased at the observation, the patterns beneath his skin brightening slightly—visible now even through his clothing in moments of strong emotion.

He had explained that this increased visibility was another sign of our bond strengthening, allowing his natural magic to express itself more freely in my presence.

As we settled in Maya’s living room with our ice cream, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—Maya’s latest dating disaster, Thalen’s ongoing fascination with human technology, my adventures in navigating fae court politics.

The easy flow of discussion, the way Thalen had integrated himself into this human setting, made something settle within me—a confirmation that bridging these two worlds was not only possible but rewarding.

Later, as Thalen and I walked back to my apartment (he still preferred walking to more magical forms of transportation when in the human realm, finding it “grounding”), he took my hand, cool fingers intertwining with mine.

“Your cousin is a remarkable human,” he observed. “Her energy is similar to yours—bright and resilient.”

“She’s the best,” I agreed. “Saved my ass more times than I can count.”

“And now you are finding your path,” he said with obvious pride. “The court advisors speak highly of your quick adaptation to our ways.”

I snorted. “You mean they’re surprised the bumbling human hasn’t caused a magical catastrophe yet.”

“They are impressed,” he insisted. “As am I. Few humans could navigate the complexities you have faced with such grace.”

Through our bond, I felt the sincerity behind his words—the genuine admiration that always made me feel both proud and slightly unworthy.

“I have good motivation,” I said, squeezing his hand. “Makes it easier to learn all those complicated protocols when there’s someone worth learning them for.”

The patterns beneath his skin brightened visibly, a pulse of light that momentarily illuminated our joined hands. Three months into our bond, and I still found new ways to make him react, new expressions of emotion to discover.

“I have been meaning to discuss something with you,” he said as we approached my apartment building. “A proposal of sorts.”

“Another one?” I teased. “I’m already magically bonded to you for centuries. What’s next?”

He smiled—those genuine smiles that had become more frequent since our bonding. “I was thinking we might establish a more permanent dwelling in the human realm. Something larger than your current apartment, perhaps with a garden where I could cultivate certain fae plants.”

I stopped walking, turning to face him. “You want us to buy a house? Together?”

“Is that not a common step for committed humans?” he asked, uncertainty creeping into his voice. “I have been researching your customs, and cohabitation in a jointly selected dwelling seems significant.”

The thought of house-hunting with a fairy prince—finding a place that could be truly ours, not just my apartment or his royal chambers—made something twist pleasantly in my chest.

“It is significant,” I confirmed. “And yes, I’d love to find a place together. But fair warning—my credit is still pretty terrible from all those bad decisions I made before meeting you.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “Financial constraints are not a concern. The royal treasury has a substantial allocation for cross-realm establishments.”

“Of course it does,” I laughed. “Must be nice being royalty.”

“It has its advantages,” he acknowledged. “Though none so valuable as the privilege of being bonded to you.”

Through our connection, I felt the absolute sincerity behind the somewhat formal declaration—the depth of emotion that sometimes still caught me off guard.

“Smooth talker,” I said, leaning in to kiss him.

What started as a gentle kiss quickly deepened, his cool tongue sliding against mine with familiar intensity.

After three months, we knew each other’s bodies intimately, yet the desire showed no signs of diminishing—if anything, the bond had intensified our physical connection, each encounter enhanced by the emotional feedback loop between us.

“Perhaps we should continue this discussion inside,” Thalen suggested when we finally separated, his pupils dilated and the patterns beneath his skin pulsing visibly through his shirt.

“Excellent idea, Your Highness,” I agreed, deliberately using the title that never failed to affect him.

His eyes darkened predictably as I led him up to my apartment—soon to be our former apartment, apparently. The thought of creating a real home together, a place that bridged our worlds just as we did, filled me with unexpected joy.

As Thalen closed the apartment door behind us and immediately pulled me into another kiss, I reflected on the strange path that had led me here. From one bad decision after another to the best decision I’d ever made—following Pix into that strange café and serving tea to the untouchable prince.

“I love you,” I murmured against his lips, feeling the words echo through our bond.

“And I love you,” he replied, the patterns beneath his skin brightening with emotion. “Across realms and centuries.”

As we moved toward the bedroom, already shedding clothing with practiced efficiency, I found myself looking forward to those centuries—to building a life that spanned worlds, to all the adventures yet to come.

Not bad for a guy who’d been crashing on his cousin’s couch just a few months ago.

Not bad at all.