Page 3 of Fairy’s Forbidden Touch (Wings & Whispers #2)

A week passed, and Prince Thalen continued his nightly visits to the café. If anything, he stayed longer, always the last customer to leave at closing time. But something had changed—he’d moved from his isolated spot to a seat directly at my section of the counter.

He never mentioned the touching incident, but I caught him staring at my hands when he thought I wasn’t looking. Sometimes our fingers would brush when I served his tea, the briefest contact that seemed to startle him every time.

The other customers had noticed the change too. I’d caught snippets of whispered conversations:

“—unnatural—”

“—never lets anyone that close—”

“—what’s different about that human?—”

I’d been pretending not to notice, keeping things professional while internally analyzing every interaction for hidden meaning.

Tonight, though, something was different.

Thalen seemed… tense. His perfect posture was even more rigid than usual, and he kept fidgeting with one of the silver cuffs on his ear.

As closing time approached and the other customers filtered out, Thalen remained, staring into his empty teacup.

“We’re closing up,” I said gently, wiping down the counter near him. “Can I get you anything else before you go?”

Those violet eyes lifted to mine. “How do humans touch each other?”

I nearly dropped my rag. “I… what?”

“In what ways do humans typically make physical contact?” he clarified, his tone formal but with an undercurrent of something I couldn’t identify. “For what purposes?”

Is this a trick question?

“Um, lots of ways,” I said carefully. “Handshakes for greetings. Hugs between friends. High-fives for celebration. Kisses for… various reasons. It depends on the relationship.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “And it doesn’t harm you? The contact?”

“No, of course not. Unless someone’s trying to hurt you intentionally.”

“Fascinating.” He studied his own hands, turning them over as if seeing them for the first time. “I have never experienced prolonged contact with another being. Not since I was very young, before the magic manifested fully.”

The sadness in his voice made something twist in my chest.

“That sounds lonely,” I said before I could stop myself.

His eyes snapped back to mine, surprised. “It is… the way things are.”

“But not with me,” I pointed out. “I touched you, and nothing happened.”

A long silence stretched between us. Around us, Fern and Pix were finishing their closing duties, pretending not to eavesdrop but definitely listening to every word.

“No,” he finally said. “Not with you. I don’t understand why.”

I hesitated, then extended my hand across the counter, palm up. “We could… test it again? If you want to be sure it wasn’t a fluke.”

Thalen stared at my offered hand like it might bite him. Slowly, with visible trepidation, he reached out. His fingertips hovered just above my palm.

“It’s okay,” I said softly. “I’m not afraid.”

The café had gone completely silent. Even Pix had stopped flitting around to watch.

His fingertips touched my palm so lightly I barely felt it. Then, growing bolder, he pressed his entire hand against mine. His skin was cooler than a human’s but not cold, and smoother than seemed possible, like polished stone warmed by sunlight.

“Nothing,” he whispered, wonder filling his voice. “No reaction.”

“Told you,” I said, smiling at the childlike amazement on his face.

Without warning, his other hand came up to grasp my wrist, as if afraid I might pull away. His thumb brushed over my pulse point, and I couldn’t suppress a small shiver at the contact.

“Your heart is racing,” he observed.

Because you’re touching me and you’re gorgeous and I’ve been having extremely inappropriate dreams about you for a week.

“Natural reaction to weird magical situations,” I deflected.

His lips quirked in what might have been the ghost of a smile. “Will you meet me after your shift ends? There are… questions I would like to ask. About human things.”

Behind me, I heard Pix drop something and swear softly.

“Sure,” I agreed, trying to sound casual while my heart threatened to pound right out of my chest. “I finish in about fifteen minutes.”

He nodded, still holding my hand and wrist, seemingly fascinated by the simple contact.

“Um, I need my hand back to finish closing,” I said gently.

“Of course.” He released me reluctantly. “I will wait outside.”

True to his word, Thalen was waiting in the alley behind the café when I finished my shift. The night was cool, and he stood motionless in the shadows, moonlight catching on his hair and the silver accents of his clothing.

“So,” I said, shoving my hands in my jacket pockets. “Questions about human things?”

He stepped closer, and I caught that scent again—winter air and night-blooming flowers. “I have been observing humans for some time. Your kind fascinates me. The casual way you touch one another, without fear or consequence.”

“Most of us don’t have magic skin that burns people,” I pointed out.

“Indeed.” He was close enough now that I could see the silver flecks in his eyes even in the dim light. “May I… experiment further? With your permission.”

My mouth went dry. “What kind of experiment?”

“I would like to touch your face,” he said simply. “I have observed this is common among humans who are… familiar with one another.”

Holy shit, is this really happening?

“Um, yeah. That’s… that would be fine.”

He raised his hand slowly, telegraphing his movement as if afraid of startling me. Cool fingertips brushed my cheek, then traced the line of my jaw with feather-light precision. His touch was hesitant, exploratory, like someone touching a butterfly’s wings.

“Your skin is warm,” he murmured. “And there is roughness here.” His finger rasped against my stubble.

“I need to shave,” I said, then immediately felt stupid for such a mundane response to this surreal moment.

“No, it’s… interesting. Different.” His thumb brushed over my lower lip, and I had to stifle a gasp. “Humans do this before kissing, do they not? Touch faces?”

Is he asking what I think he’s asking?

“Sometimes,” I managed. “Usually when they’re interested in each other. Romantically or… physically.”

His head tilted slightly. “And are you? Interested?”

The directness of the question caught me off guard. “I… yes. I am. But I didn’t think you—”

“I have watched you,” he interrupted. “More closely than the others. There is something about you that…” He frowned, searching for words. “You are different. Not just because you can touch me. Your energy is… chaotic but bright.”

Is that a compliment?

“I’ve been thinking about you too,” I admitted. “Probably more than I should.”

His hand was still on my face, thumb tracing small circles near the corner of my mouth. “Will you show me?”

“Show you what?”

“A kiss. How it’s done properly.”

My heart hammered against my ribs. “Are you sure?”

Instead of answering, he leaned forward slightly, clearly waiting for me to close the distance.

I moved slowly, giving him time to pull back. When our lips met, his were cool and impossibly soft. The kiss was gentle, chaste—just a press of lips as I gauged his reaction. He remained perfectly still, as if cataloging the sensation.

When I pulled back, his eyes were wide, pupils dilated.

“That’s the basic version,” I said, my voice embarrassingly husky.

“There are variations?” he asked immediately.

I couldn’t help laughing. “Many. Very many variations.”

“Show me another,” he commanded, and there was something almost princely in his tone—accustomed to having requests fulfilled.

This time, I cupped his face in my hands, marveling at the smoothness of his skin.

I kissed him more firmly, gently coaxing his lips to move with mine.

When I tentatively traced the seam of his mouth with my tongue, he made a startled sound but didn’t pull away.

Instead, his lips parted, allowing me deeper access.

The kiss turned from exploratory to heated in seconds. For someone who claimed to have no experience, Thalen was a remarkably quick study. His hands moved hesitantly to my shoulders, then slid into my hair, mimicking my earlier movements.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing harder. His perfect composure had slipped, eyes wide and lips slightly swollen.

“That was…” he began, then seemed at a loss for words.

“Yeah,” I agreed, equally eloquent.

He was staring at me with a new intensity. “What else? What other ways do humans touch?”

Is he asking what I think he’s asking?

“There are… many ways. Some more intimate than others.” I cleared my throat. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private than an alley?”

He nodded immediately. “My residence is nearby. Will you come with me?”

Warning bells should have been going off—following a magical prince to his “residence” after knowing him for only two weeks seemed like exactly the kind of impulsive decision that had led to me crashing on Maya’s couch in the first place.

But all I could think about was the possibility of more touching, more kissing, more of whatever this was.

“Lead the way,” I said.

Thalen’s “nearby residence” turned out to be a townhouse that seemed normal from the outside but opened into a space that couldn’t possibly fit within the building’s dimensions.

The interior was spacious and elegant, decorated in the same midnight blues and silvers as his clothing, with furniture that looked beautiful but not particularly comfortable.

“Nice place,” I said inadequately, taking in the strange architecture and stranger décor—including what appeared to be a small fountain of luminescent liquid in the center of the main room.

“It serves its purpose.” He seemed suddenly uncertain, standing just inside the door. “Would you like refreshment?”

“I’m good, thanks.” I took a step closer to him. “So… more questions about touching?”