Page 32 of The Wind and the Wild (The Keepers of Faerie #1)

His lips twitch. I’m uncertain if this pleases him or he thinks me silly. Either way, I like what it does to his eyes.

“ What are you looking at over here?” I ask, boosting myself farther up against the rough bark.

Leaning over the nearest branch, I realize what’s caught his attention: two people with a wagon, and their horse has apparently thrown a shoe.

Whatever they are hauling is covered with cloth blankets, but it’s likely something for midsummer.

I consider leaving Aidyn here and going to offer help when I recognize the voice bouncing off the forest trunks.

“ . . . to the village . . .”

“ What is it?” Aidyn asks, plucking a leaf.

My smile must have dropped. “ Nothing. Let’s avoid them.”

His eyebrow rises.

“ You said we must have missed something. Should we circle back?”

“ Why?”

“ Why what?”

“ Why are we avoiding them?”

“ Why shouldn’t we?”

A smirk joins the eyebrow.

“ You’re not supposed to be seen here, you know. And I very much shouldn’t be seen with you. ”

He readjusts against the tree, getting comfortable, one foot resting over the other. “ Your pretty smile fell.”

Stars is he blunt. My cheeks grow hot anyway. “ What?”

“ You no longer look happy.”

I sigh, closing my eyes and resting my cheek against the rough bark I’m clinging to, acutely aware of his closeness. If I open my eyes, he will be so very near. “ I do not like those people. Must we linger?”

“ We mustn’t,” he supplies. “ I wonder why you don’t like them.”

Of course he does. And I wonder why he’s dwelling alone in a library. “ Sometimes people are not so terribly honorable.”

He cocks his head. Hooves on dirt, snorting horses, and the faint voices of the two men still drift through the trees. Aidyn leans over to look again, glances at me, and hoists himself off the tree, heading along the side of the road in their direction.

“ Aidyn!” I hiss, dropping down and scrambling after him. “ What are you doing?”

He turns momentarily to give me his finger over his lips. Taking one of the mushroom stems from my pocket, I throw it at him. It bounces off his lower back, and he only smirks at me.

Emma would be appalled by my behavior.

Then again, so would Mam and Da.

So would Una and Niall.

Well, a little late for that consideration.

“ Aidyn,” I hiss again, worried to make my voice more than a whisper. We’re quite close now, and I slow so my footsteps aren’t heard among the normal noises of the woods. Aidyn keeps his pace without making a sound. How unfair.

Eventually, I catch up to where he’s peeking through the trees.

I’m torn between wanting to give his arm a smack and being too nervous of touching him so casually.

Instead, I stand by his shoulder and glower at the side of his face, ignoring the path he’s observing so intensely.

His eyes catch mine from the side, and he appears to be withholding a smile as he ignores me, returning to the men along the path.

He can be as endearing as he likes—I’m not smiling in return.

When I’m ignored for more than a minute, I sigh and chance a glance to the side.

A small mossy embankment stretches down to the dirt path, thick trees on all sides hiding us.

Still, I’m worried about my dress—a pale red, but a different-enough hue from the trees they’ll probably see me if they look this direction.

Mister Haskel and Blain are bent near the horse, discussing, not giving us any notice. When I turn back, Aidyn is watching me. I glower as best I can, which isn’t much.

What? I mouth.

Leaning over, he whispers against my ear, “ Which one makes you unhappy?”

Startled by the sudden closeness, I lose most of the glare. His face is a finger’s breadth from mine, so close that when I attempt to glare his way, I see the filaments of silver in his large eyes, the little flecks of green I never noticed.

“ None of your business,” I whisper in return, though I don’t think it carries much weight. If I lean forward a little, I would brush against his cheek—

You can show me Faerie? I didn’t think any girls weren’t frightened of Faerie. I wince, but the voice those words belong to is down on the path, not near me.

I glance down, stepping away from him. This is the human side of the woods, but I am not entirely comforted.

Aidyn cocks his head again, like a cat, curious.

Peering back over the nearest branch at the path, he gets a little glimmer of something in his gaze I don’t particularly think is a good thing.

My throat is tight, but I open my mouth to tell him off, considering just walking away to see if he’ll follow—

He flicks his fingers in a little circular gesture, and I’ve no idea what he’s trying to tell me until a yelp sounds from the path. I start, pushing a branch away so I can better see.

Blain spits out a leaf, swearing and coughing while his father looks on in confusion.

Aidyn’ s magic.

Aidyn, who is currently smirking in my direction.

Stop it , I mouth, but I don’t believe I look angry.

It’s . . . a little funny.

There’s a sudden swoosh of wind through the leaves, and hundreds of fallen oak leaves smack into Blain.

Mister Haskel yelps and takes cover behind the cart while Blain stumbles onto the ground, sitting up too fast when the leaves die a moment later, covering him.

Scrambling to his feet, he keeps on swearing and glancing into the woods.

Aidyn giggles softly. I try to glare, but I’m forcing down both a smile and pure mortification.

“ Are you satisfied? Can we leave now?” I whisper, gathering my courage and tugging on his sleeve.

Blain is looking our way. I go utterly still, gazing back, uncertain if he sees us or merely senses our presence.

Would I sense a faerie right beside me in the woods? I hope so, but I’m uncertain. His eyes narrow.

Aidyn huffs, and a twig smacks straight into the side of Blain’s cheek.

A little scream yelps out of him, and I clap my hand over my mouth, face burning but the built-up nerves bursting forth all at once.

Aidyn’s soft chuckle turns into a breathless belly laugh, and he shrinks down behind the tree before he can shake the branches.

“ You idiot,” I hiss, but he’s successfully made me laugh, my face hot but a strange satisfaction sitting in my chest nonetheless.

Aidyn is entirely too pleased with himself.

Footsteps crunch our way, and all amusement dies in my chest. I open my mouth to say something about running, but Aidyn puts his finger back to his lips, suddenly weaving his arm about my shoulders, pressing me against the tree, half hiding me with his body.

My cheek brushes his arm, and I don’t have time to be properly embarrassed before Blain stops right before us.

I put my hand over my mouth, hiding my breath.

Aidyn is utterly still before me, head cocked, inspecting the other human.

The second human he’s ever met, I suppose?

Frowning, Blain turns in a full circle, looking directly at us.

Light dapples past the trees, and the grasses sway.

Aidyn’s fingers tug absently on the hem of my sleeve, fingertips brushing the underside of my arm, leaving tingling traces along my skin.

His hair slips from his shoulder in a slight breeze, further covering me.

Some part of me understands there is magic wrapped around him, and therefore around me pressed so close, but I find it strangely comforting.

My heart is beating loud enough I’m sure both men must hear, but Blain only scowls in deeper confusion.

Turning, he says to his father, “ Damn things shouldn’t have so much magic with so few manners. I hardly pity them. Must’ve been something small. It ran from me.”

I frown. I suppose he wouldn’t like the fae either, having been scared out of his wits when I was. His reasoning doesn’t seem as deserving. My hand aches—pressed against the warmth of Aidyn’s back, it feels securely hidden.

Wiping remnants of leaves from his shirt, Blain stomps back down the incline.

Aidyn snorts.

Blain spins on the spot, but more leaves rush upon them, spooking the horses and sending them scattering down the path, both men chasing after and yelling.

Once they’re so far down the road there’s no chance of hearing, the built-up laugh chokes out of me.

Aidyn joins in, and with his back pressed against me, I feel him shake happily.

My cheeks go back to red-hot; they’re going to be fixed that way, it seems.

“ You’ re a fool ,” I hiss again. “ How did you do that ? ”

“ Hmm? ” He seats himself on the roots of the tree, chin in hand, twirling his cane.

“ How did you make him not see us?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “ It is an innate magic. Not difficult.”

It hits me how there is a large chance of many fae being in these woods at any time—we would not know it. I’ve always known they are sneaky and able to hide from human eyes, but I did not realize it was quite so strong. Any faerie could be right across from me, and I would be none the wiser.

“ Have I frightened you?” he asks, suddenly sober.

It’s such a strangely sweet concern that my lips pull back up. “ No, I’m just... I don’t know what I am. Not frightened though.”

He brightens once more, leaning against the roots. I expect him to ask me again why I did not like Blain and Mister Haskel, but he leaves it at that, warmth in his smile. My own stretches in return.

“ You’re correct, ’tis turning late. I know a much easier way back—” He glances at the path, and his words die, expression freezing.

My stomach drops, though following his gaze, I see nothing among the trees. “ What is it?”

My mind jumps at once to hunt hounds, but Aidyn rises with care, stepping from the trees and making his way down the mossy slope, crossing the path.

I scramble after him, skirts in hands—casting glances down each side of the road lest someone be venturing toward us—and press through the thicket on the other side of the path, hoping not to lose him.

He doesn’t venture far and kneels among some grasses sprouting amid the thorns.

I suspect he’s found another faerie circle but see nothing.

“ What is it?” I ask again, voice a mere whisper.

He glances back at me, expression twisted in such a way I halt my approach.

Carefully, he takes my hand and draws me down beside him, guiding my fingers to touch something soft against the earth.

I half attempt to pull back, but there is nothing to see, and he has not caused me harm a single time, even if my hand is still aching from my own memories.

The woods have gone utterly quiet, not a birdsong or warble to be heard, not even my own breath.

My fingers brush something strangely like fur, and I see the monster lying among the grasses.