Page 37 of Never Kiss a Fae

Fuck, I really do believe this, don’t I?

I shivered, not wanting to admit to the logic flowing through my mind. This sort of shit was impossible. Or it should be. Yet, I couldn’t deny all the magic flowing around me, the fact that flames literally shot out of my hands, that I’d destroyed a wall of, uh, vines? I shook my head, trying to clear it.

Titus caught my chin, tilting my head back to stare warmly down at me. “You’ll learn to control it, Claire.”

“Will I?” I countered. “I didn’t even know any of this was real until today, or yesterday, or whenever it was that Exos kidnapped me.” It felt like a lifetime ago, my existence forever changed by this new world. “I don’t even understand why these powers, or whatever they are, didn’t manifest until recently. Or how to begin controlling them.”

“It’s rumored your mother hexed you,” he replied, his fingers gliding along my jaw and down my neck before dropping down to his side. “Exos would be much better at dictating the history, as he sits on the Council of Fae, but I can tell you what I know.” There was an edge to his voice when he spoke of Exos, but it didn’t reflect in the kindness of his features.

“I’d rather you tell me,” I admitted. Something told me Exos would be blunt, and perhaps purposely harsh. And I couldn’t handle that right now. I needed someone who would break me into this gently. Someone like Titus.

He palmed the back of his neck and let out a breath. “What all do you know?”

I sat on the bed, which was admirably soft considering the base was made of a tree trunk. “Uh, well…”

I considered the minimal information my grandmother gave me, while toying with the charm dangling from the chain around my neck. An old habit whenever I thought of her, as it’d been one of the last gifts she’d given me before she died.

Pinching my lips to the side, I shrugged. “Honestly, not much. I don’t remember her at all. My grandmother said she left when I was a baby and never came home. Then claimed my father died of a broken heart.”

He grimaced and leaned against the tree trunk across from me. “Right, we’ll need to go back to the beginning, then.” He crossed one ankle over the other, his hands tucking into his jean pockets. “So your mother—Ophelia Snow—was a Spirit Fae. Very powerful, as is the case with most female Spirit Fae of a certain birthright. Mortus, another Spirit Fae, was her chosen mate. They never completed the vows because she met your father soon after and created you.”

He looked extremely uncomfortable when he finished, but I had to ask: “Chosen mate? Like my mother cheated on this Morty guy?” That didn’t sound good.

“Mortus,” he corrected. “And basically, yes. When fae mate, we mate for life. There’s a power exchange that essentially binds the essences together, and she’d begun that process with Mortus before she met your, uh, father. The rumors say she ventured into the Human Realm on some sort of assignment, then refused to come home after meeting your father. Mortus, being her intended mate, issued an edict that she return and atone for her crimes. So she did, and then she fought him.”

A chill shivered down my spine. “And…?” I prompted, my voice barely a whisper.

Titus ran his fingers through his auburn strands and sighed. “When fae agree to a power binding, it’s irreversible. To do so causes a disruption in the balance. That’s why he called her home, to finish the bond because the elements were already fracturing due to their unresolved vows. Of course, this is all hearsay. I wasn’t there when it all happened. But my familiarity with the rituals suggests the truth behind this.”

“Rituals?” I repeated. “I don’t understand thebondpart.”

He seemed thoughtful, as if searching for the words. Then he pushed off the tree to stand before me, holding out his hand. “Touch me.”

I wasn’t sure what this had to do with anything, but I pressed my palm to his, curious. “O-okay.”

Titus slid to his knees, his gaze kind as he stared up at me. “Close your eyes and just describe the sensations rolling over your skin.”

Swallowing, I allowed my lids to fall, confused as to why he’d derailed our conversation. But he clearly had a point to make about something.

“What do you feel, Claire?” he asked, his voice soft. “Tell me what you sense.”

“I…” I licked my lips, focusing on the heat spiraling up my arm, the caress oddly familiar after only a few hours of knowing him. “Hot,” I whispered. “And…” I bit my cheek, fighting the urge to lean into him, to seek comfort from his known intimacy. Some foreign part of me trusted him despite my mind rebelling against the notion.

I don’t really know him.

But I want to.

I like him.

“It feels… natural… to touch you.” My cheeks warmed from the admission. It also felt natural to touch Exos.

“Because you feel the connection blossoming between your essence and mine,” he whispered, his opposite hand cupping my cheek. “Fae are essence-based. We rely on our links to the elements to guide us, and when we find someone we are compatible with, we gravitate toward that person. My Fire calls to yours, and vice versa. Just as it seems your Spirit is intrigued by Exos. Definitely not common, but nothing about you is ordinary.”

“O-oh,” I breathed, unable to say more. While his words made sense, they also didn’t. He’d essentially just implied that I was attracted to two men.

Two men I hardly knew.

Two men who couldn’t be any more different.