Page 7 of Fairy’s Forbidden Touch (Wings & Whispers #2)
“You’re humming,” Pix observed, hovering near my shoulder as I prepared a complicated order for what appeared to be a cluster of tiny forest sprites. “And smiling. It’s disturbing the customers who expect surly human service.”
“I’m not surly,” I protested, carefully adding a sprinkle of what Fern had assured me was edible glitter, not actual magic.
“You were when you started,” she countered. “All sarcastic comments and eye rolls. Now you’re practically glowing.”
I glanced across the café to where Thalen sat in what had become his regular spot—directly at my section of the counter.
He was reading something from a thin crystal tablet, his expression serious, but looked up as if sensing my gaze.
The slight softening around his eyes when our gazes met sent a ridiculous flutter through my stomach.
“Oh my godmother,” Pix groaned. “You’ve got it bad.”
“Got what bad?” I asked innocently, serving the sprites their tiny drinks.
She flitted directly in front of my face, wings vibrating with irritation. “Don’t play dumb. You’re in love with him.”
The word sent a jolt of panic through me. “We’re just… exploring things.”
“For a month now,” she pointed out. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed how he watches you when you’re not looking. Like you’re some rare treasure he’s afraid might disappear.”
I busied myself wiping down the counter. “It’s complicated.”
“Because he’s royalty? Or because he’s fae and you’re human?”
“Both. Neither. I don’t know.” I sighed, lowering my voice. “We haven’t exactly discussed where this is going. We’re just enjoying what we have.”
Pix gave me a look that suggested she found humans particularly dense. “He’s the crown prince of the Winter Court, Jesse. He doesn’t ‘just enjoy’ anything. Everything he does has implications.”
That pulled me up short. “Wait—crown prince? As in, next in line for the throne?”
She stared at me. “You didn’t know? I thought surely he would have… oh dear.”
“He introduced himself as just ‘Prince Thalen,’” I said weakly. “I didn’t realize he was THE prince.”
Pix’s tiny features scrunched in concern. “Maybe don’t mention I told you? Royal fae can be touchy about their titles and positions.”
Before I could respond, Thalen himself approached the counter, crystal tablet tucked away. Up close, I could see subtle tension in his features—something bothering him that he was trying to conceal.
“Jesse,” he greeted me, my name still sounding exotic in his accent. “May I speak with you? After your shift.”
“Of course. Everything okay?”
He glanced around the café, aware of the many ears listening. “Yes. Merely a matter I wish to discuss.”
“I’m done in about an hour,” I told him.
He nodded. “I will wait.”
As he returned to his seat, Pix gave me a significant look. “See? Implications.”
The rest of my shift dragged by, my mind spinning with questions. Crown prince? What did that mean for whatever was developing between us? And what did he want to discuss that had him looking so tense?
When closing time finally arrived, Thalen remained in his seat, waiting patiently as Fern and Pix completed their closing duties. They both gave me knowing looks as they left, Pix making an unnecessarily suggestive gesture behind Thalen’s back.
“So,” I said once we were alone. “What’s up?”
Thalen’s formal posture relaxed slightly now that we were private. “I have a request that may seem… presumptuous.”
“Okay,” I said cautiously.
“I would like you to accompany me to my residence in the fae realm. Not the small dwelling we have visited before, but my actual home.”
This was unexpected. “Your home? In the fae realm?”
He nodded. “The transition between realms is simple for those under my protection. It would be for… an extended visit. Perhaps two days in human time.”
“Like a weekend trip?” I clarified.
“Something similar, yes.”
I studied his face, sensing there was more to this invitation. “Why now?”
He hesitated, fingers absently adjusting one of the silver cuffs on his ear—a nervous habit I’d come to recognize. “There are aspects of my life I wish to share with you. And privacy we cannot fully achieve in the human realm.”
The implication sent heat through me. Despite a month of increasingly intimate “exploration,” there were still boundaries we hadn’t crossed—namely, actual intercourse. Thalen had been hesitant about that final step, though whether from inexperience or some fae cultural factor, I wasn’t sure.
“When would this trip happen?” I asked.
“I had hoped… tonight? After your work tomorrow, we would return.”
It was impulsive, potentially unwise, and definitely another entry in my catalog of questionable decisions. But the vulnerability in his expression—the prince who was uncomfortable making a simple request—made my answer easy.
“I’ll need to text Maya so she doesn’t worry,” I said. “But yes, I’d like to see your home.”
The tension visibly drained from his shoulders. “Thank you. It… means a great deal to me.”
The process of entering the fae realm was both simpler and stranger than I’d imagined.
Thalen led me to what appeared to be an ordinary stone wall behind the café, placed his palm against it, and murmured words in a language that seemed to slide around my comprehension.
The wall shimmered, then seemed to melt away, revealing a path that definitely hadn’t been there before.
“Stay close to me,” he instructed, taking my hand. “The passage recognizes you as under my protection, but it’s best not to stray.”
The path twisted in ways that made my eyes hurt if I tried to follow them too carefully.
Lights that weren’t quite lights illuminated our way, and the air felt thicker, filled with scents I couldn’t identify.
After what might have been minutes or hours, the path opened into a clearing surrounded by impossibly tall trees with silver bark and leaves that seemed to glow from within.
“We’re here,” Thalen said, a note of uncertainty in his voice. “My home.”
I looked around, confused. “In the forest?”
He smiled slightly. “Look up.”
I tilted my head back and gasped. Above us, suspended among the massive trees, was what could only be described as a palace.
Gleaming structures of crystal and some material like polished wood spiraled around the enormous trunks, connected by bridges that seemed made of solid moonlight.
The entire complex glowed with the same subtle luminescence as Thalen’s skin.
“You live up there?” I asked, unable to keep the awe from my voice.
“The Winter Court resides in the trees,” he confirmed. “It is… our way.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said honestly. “But, um, how do we get up there?”
In answer, he wrapped an arm securely around my waist and made a gesture with his free hand. The ground beneath us shimmered, and suddenly we were rising, standing on a platform of what appeared to be solidified air. I clutched at him instinctively.
“I have you,” he assured me. “You cannot fall while in my hold.”
The platform carried us upward, through layers of glowing foliage, until we reached one of the moonlight bridges. Up close, it appeared to be made of the same material as the “woven moonlight” garments Thalen sometimes wore—solid but with an inner luminescence that shifted and flowed.
As we stepped onto the bridge, I became aware of figures watching from various points in the palace complex—fae of different sizes and appearances, all with that same otherworldly beauty, all regarding me with unconcealed curiosity.
“They’re staring,” I whispered.
“You are the first human to enter these halls in many centuries,” Thalen explained. “And you are with me, which makes you particularly interesting to them.”
I suddenly felt extremely self-conscious in my café uniform—black jeans and a Moonlight Brews t-shirt with a crescent moon logo. “You could have warned me to dress up.”
“You are perfect as you are,” he said simply.
He led me through a series of increasingly grand spaces—rooms with ceilings that opened to the sky, corridors lined with what appeared to be living plants that moved subtly as we passed, open areas where fae of various types went about activities I couldn’t begin to comprehend.
Everywhere we went, conversations hushed as we passed, only to resume in excited whispers behind us. I caught fragments of a language that sounded like wind through crystal, occasionally interspersed with English words: “human,” “prince,” and most frequently, “touching.”
Finally, we reached a massive door made of what appeared to be silver but with those same shifting patterns I’d come to associate with fae magic. Thalen placed his palm against it, and it swung open silently.
“My private quarters,” he explained, ushering me inside.
The room beyond was breathtaking—spacious and elegant, with walls that seemed to shift between solid and transparent, offering views of the forest canopy all around us.
The furniture was minimal but beautiful, crafted from materials I couldn’t identify.
A large bed dominated one area, draped with fabrics that shimmered like the night sky.
“This is… wow,” I managed, turning in a slow circle to take it all in.
“It pleases you?” he asked, that hint of vulnerability creeping back into his voice.
“It’s incredible,” I assured him. “Though it makes my cousin’s apartment look pretty pathetic in comparison.”
He smiled, moving closer to take my hands in his. “I have been wanting to bring you here. To share this part of myself with you.”
There was weight behind his words, a significance I couldn’t fully grasp but could definitely feel. This wasn’t just a weekend trip—this was Thalen letting me into a part of his life he kept separate from the human world.
“Thank you for trusting me with this,” I said, squeezing his hands.
Something flickered in his expression—relief, perhaps, or gratitude. “There is more I wish to share with you. But first, would you like refreshment? Or to rest?”