Page 21

Summer

S moke curls through thick rays of afternoon light, wafting the delicious smell of cooking fish toward me, and my stomach growls like a bear waking from hibernation.

“Food’s almost ready,” says Wyn, grinning as he glances up through long, dark bangs.

“Brilliant. I was about to start munching on the firewood. I’ll go wash up in the river before we eat.”

“Summer, be careful. No talking to any stray creatures.”

“Creatures? Where?” I scan the surrounding trees, searching for anything with claws or sharp teeth hiding in the woods. “What sort exactly?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “Sluaghs or redcaps. Their bites can be fatal.”

“Oh, okay. But I wouldn’t recognize either of those if I face planted on top of one,” I say.

As I stroll away, I hear him call out. “Don’t talk to anything, then. Not even yourself. Go quietly. You never know who’s listening. ”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going far,” I shout over my shoulder, already breaking one of his rules.

I’m still reeling from discovering he can read my thoughts sometimes. Which is bad. Very, very bad. Also, Wyn might be the most overprotective male I’ve ever met, and I once owned a boy cat that bit anyone who so much as breathed on me.

Growing up with parents who just weren’t that into me, I’m not used to being fussed over and worried about. It’s a strange experience, and I’m still not sure if I like it.

When I reach the bank, I’m startled by a man bathing in the middle of the river, the water caressing his slim waist as he sways gently from side to side, as if in a trance. An alarm bell goes off inside me, and I glance back toward the camp, reassuring myself the fire smoke and Wyn are close by.

I should leave. Or call out for Wyn. But I don’t do either. A molten warmth spirals through my veins, anchoring me in place. The woods around me are silent. No birds chirping or insects buzzing.

As I study the fae, the scent of damp earth fills my lungs. His elegant fingers trail through ripples of water, and his bare skin sparkles in the sunlight, as if his body is carved from gold-flecked river stone.

Midnight hair hangs in wet ropes over his shoulders. He smiles when he catches me staring, but his eyes remain cold, bottomless black pits.

Mesmerized, I smile back.

A thought slams into my mind: Don’t speak to him. Then it’s instantly washed away by the delicious warmth infusing my chest, making my head light, my mind euphoric, and my limbs heavy .

What a beautiful creature, I think, dizzy with pleasure.

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” the man says, his voice light and airy.

I shake my head and whisper, “No. Of course not.”

“Good. The water temperature is just right for humans. Why don’t you join me?”

“Is it safe?” I ask, even though I have no intention of taking my clothes off and swimming with a stranger.

His gaze skims the treetops, considering my question. “For some, yes.”

That strikes me as a perfectly acceptable reply, and my pulse slows as I step toward the water’s edge.

“What’s your name, child?” he asks, wading closer to the bank. Closer to me .

Again, I shake my head and try to remember why I should leave. Why it isn’t safe to speak. There’s definitely a reason. I just can’t seem to hold onto it, and it slips away every time I try.

My lips part before I can stop myself. “Summer,” I tell him, and his eyes narrow to slits.

“Not your true name, which is a shame.” His slick head tilts in a slow, unnatural arc, reminding me of a lizard or a snake. “Still, you should hurry and get in the water.”

“I shouldn’t,” I reply.

A dry chuckle rattles from his pouting lips, as though my resistance amuses him. “You shouldn’t, but you will . The water is lovely, and you’re a tasty little surprise to find mere hours before dinnertime.”

“Tasty?” My voice sounds weak, but I’m not afraid, even when my gaze blurs for a moment and an image of a gaping grin and jagged teeth superimposes itself over his handsome features.

In the back of my mind, I know I should run like the Wild Hunt’s breathing down my neck, go anywhere but here, but that thought dissolves in a wave of incoming euphoria, and I clutch the cloak around my throat, and whisper a single word.

“ Wyn .”

A faint metallic scent wafts from the river, coppery, like blood. The water darkens around the man’s legs, ribbons of weeds twisting beneath the surface.

“Come a little closer,” the fae says, his hissed words dripping with kindness. “So I can admire you properly.”

A far-away part of me wills myself not to move, but I ignore it and step off the grass, my feet making a loud sucking sound as they sink into the mud near the water’s edge.

“My friend will be angry if I swim with you,” I say.

The fae lets out a growl, sniffing the air like a hound on the trail. “What friend?”

A bright light flashes to my left, then there’s someone standing beside me. Wyn. His expression is calm, but a dark energy, like restrained violence, vibrates off his body. Just his presence clears my foggy mind a little.

“Enough,” he says, the word ringing through the air. “Step away from her, or I’ll tear your fucking throat out.”

A vicious snarl splits the fae’s lips as the water churns violently around him. “You dare interrupt my meal?” he hisses. “She’s mine. She was coming to me willingly . Those are the rules you must abide by.”

With a deep growl rumbling in Wyn’s throat, he takes a single step forward, slow and deliberate.

“She will never be yours. You’re not worthy enough to even look at her.

She’s belongs to me. I claimed her years ago.

Don’t you realize you’re speaking to a prince of Faery?

This girl walks under my protection. That makes her untouchable.

To everyone. Including you. Understand this, whether broken or bloodied, as long as I can crawl, I’ll be the one keeping her safe.

And I will not fail. Do not test me on this. ”

Wyn claimed me? What does that mean? Saying it now must be his way of protecting me. He said he could lie in Faery, unlike other fae.

Wyn positions himself between me and the river, a soft golden light glowing in his palm. He turns his head just enough to speak to me over his shoulder, his voice low and gritty.

“Go. Back to the fire. Run.”

I hesitate, confusion rooting me to the spot until Wyn barks, “Now!”

I stumble a few steps backward, my legs shaking as the roar of churning water and a bitter, metallic scent fills the air. “Why, Wyn? He wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

“Fuck’s sake . Just trust me. Go ,” Wyn grinds out, and then the world explodes around us.

The river surges up, water winding in thick, writhing tendrils around the river fae’s body before whipping toward us. The water knocks me off my feet, but Wyn doesn’t flinch, his boots planted solidly on the ground.

I scramble up, grab his arm, and try to tug him away from whatever this is—some kind of fae pissing contest, but he slams a hand onto the bank, fingers splayed wide, and the earth beneath us shudders, then cracks. Tree roots burst forth like snakes striking, tangling and snapping on the riverbank.

I should do as Wyn says. Leave. Run. But I’m frozen, my breath caught in my chest as earth and water collide .

A shrill wail from the fae pierces my eardrums. He lunges, his hands slicing through the air, and Wyn spins out of his reach, raising an arm slow and steady. Dust coils up his forearm, veins glowing gold and green. Then the ground in front of him erupts, a wall of stone shooting up between them.

The fae’s water magic glances off the rock, but the impact sends cracks spidering through it.

“Stay back!” Wyn snaps at me.

“Let’s just leave,” I plead. “He didn’t hurt me.” I stumble again, feet slipping in the mud.

My pulse pounds in my ears, the erratic beat urging me to run. But I can’t move. I can’t leave Wyn.

The fae surges forward again, the entire river seeming to rise behind him, but Wyn’s hand twists, and the earth shifts underfoot.

A jagged spike of stone erupts from the ground, driving straight for the river fae’s chest, but he bends his body around the stone like he’s made of liquid.

He grins, his black eyes glinting with malice.

I scream as arrows of water magic skim Wyn’s arm, tearing through fabric and flesh.

Blood sprays, dark against the pale green of the water, splattering my arms and chest. Wyn hisses in pain but doesn’t falter.

He drops low, slamming both hands on the ground.

The earth shakes with a deep, resonating tremor that almost knocks me off my feet.

Then the ground beneath the river explodes with a grinding roar, like the land is tearing itself in two, a gut-wrenching sound that makes my stomach lurch.

Without warning, a blast of mud and stones shoots down the fae’s throat, and Wyn charges into the water, his hands closing around the man’s neck, shoving him under, choking him in a violent swirl of dirt and magic .

The fae thrashes, still resisting, but his strength is fading. He slumps forward, muscular torso draped over the bank, the river covering him from the waist down.

Moaning, I shield my eyes. “Stop. Please. You’re killing him,” I mutter through my spread fingers. “He didn’t hurt me.”

“He would’ve,” says Wyn not looking back at me as his words turn to snarls, and he continues strangling the stranger.

Murdering him right in front of me. “Anyone who even thinks about harming you will have to deal with me. And like this scum, they won’t survive for long.

I protect what’s mine, Summer. Always .”

Long, pale fingers scratch Wyn’s arms and chest, then the fae’s body goes limp and still. Dead.

The crashing waves have retreated, the river’s surface now smooth. A heavy silence wraps around us, and neither of us moves a muscle.

What the fuck just happened?

Wyn staggers from the water, blood dripping down his arm. He’s breathing hard, shoulders heaving with each gasp. But he doesn’t look at me, not yet. His eyes are fixed on the ground, waiting for me to speak first.

When I don’t, he says, “That went well. Ready for dinner?”

I take a trembling step forward, my voice barely above a whisper when I say, “What have you done?”

“Saved your life.” A beat of silence, then, “Do you think I killed him for fun?”

The water churns and bubbles again, and Wyn’s jaw tightens as he scans the body lying in the river, making sure the fae is dead. He presses his uninjured hand to the ground one last time. A deep crack echoes through the air as the water settles, and the river fae still lies motionless.

Wyn finally turns to me, his green eyes burning despite the exhaustion etched on his face. The act of wielding magic must sap his energy. Take a toll. Everything in life has a cost, I suppose. Even in Faery.

“How can you be so cruel?” I ask. “Aren’t you meant to be a prince of this land? Shouldn’t royalty act with honor?”

“Honor is a luxury humans pretend to possess. In Faery, survival comes first.”

“When you were an injured wolf trapped in my basement, I wasn’t afraid of you.

Even when you were a psycho naked guy making coffee in my kitchen like we were roommates, I felt safe with you.

But now, I don’t know what scares me more…

what you thought that creature was about to do to me, or what you did to him. ”

My vision blurs with unshed tears as I spin and walk away, each step faster than the last.

“Summer, wait,” Wyn yells.

I don’t wait. I start running.