Faking with the Fae King

Ferndale Falls Forever

Book One

Cover Art by Phantom Dame

Cover Design by Krista Luna

Copyright © 2025 Krista Luna

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems—except for brief review quotations—without written permission from the publisher.

No AI was used in the creation of this book, and no part of this book may be used in any manner for the purpose of training AI technologies or systems.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

CONTENTS

DESCRIPTION

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

DESCRIPTION

I’ll do anything to save my magical small town, even fake marry a grumpy shadow fae. What could go wrong?

When magic floods my small town, it brings mayhem and turns me and my besties into newbie witches. As mayor, I haven’t got a clue how to handle pixie pranksters, walking tulips, or sexy shadow daddies swooping out of the sky. How the hell do I hide all these shenanigans from the non-magical world?

Enter King Severin, aka, sexy shadow daddy, aka, my future hubs.

Turns out that last one’s no joke! He offers to wrap my town in Faerie glamour to protect it from outsiders… if I agree to be his fake wife for a year.

It’s fine, totally fine. I’ll simply ignore his devastating cheekbones and sinful smirk.

But there’s a catch. I have to win a magical Bachelor-style competition to prove I’m worthy to be queen. Eensy problem? I don’t have any idea how to use magic.

The very first event? I fall flat on my face, literally.

Severin growls he’ll teach me magic so I can win. Suddenly, my “fiancé” is glued to my side, his every touch making my tummy flutter. And when he takes me flying? Hooo, boy. My foolish heart keeps forgetting all of this is fake…

Faking with the Fae King is a spicy cozy fantasy rom com featuring a grumpy shadow daddy in recovery from being morally grey, a sunshiny witch who doesn’t know the meaning of the word quit, a sassy talking fox familiar, an obsession with magical bakeries, and more witchy besties than you can shake a broomstick at.

Welcome to Ferndale Falls, the magical small town where heart-melting romance, toe-curling spice, humor, magic, low-stakes adventure, and a warm hug of a found family combine into stories you’ll devour.

Dear Reader, I write fun stories full of consent, and I want you to have a safe reading experience. This book contains strong language and explicit spice. I don’t want to spoil anything else here, so if you’d like to see the full tropes and content guide, please find it on my website.

CHAPTER ONE

Hannah

High-pitched giggles shriek past the side of my head in a blur of movement, and I fumble the cookies I’m carrying as I jerk to an abrupt halt. My mental list for the town-meeting agenda evaporates as I snap back to the here and now.

A few feet away, a flutter of bright-blue wings darts around the corner of the town bookshop I Touch My Shelf.

“What the heckity heck was that?” It moved like a butterfly on a caffeine bender but was way too big. “A bird?”

“No bird,” a cooing voice says, echoed by two others. “No bird.” “No bird.”

“Who said that?” I spin. One of the reasons I can walk down Main Street without paying much attention to my surroundings is that my sleepy small town has gone downright catatonic in recent years. The sidewalks are empty but for a few mourning doves, pecking at the pavement in perpetual hope.

The tiniest shiver of magic ripples through the air. It’s a feeling I’ve been getting off and on for the last month, ever since fae and magic returned to Earth. Things have been fairly quiet since then, but what if the big butterfly is something magical?

My ballet flats slap the sidewalk as I dart forward. The alley beside the bookshop stands empty, and I sag in relief. It’s probably some kids playing with a drone. Ferndale Falls can remain a peaceful little town without magic or fae causing problems.

I fish out the seed cracker I saved from lunch, crumble it, and scatter the crumbs for the doves, who waddle over, dark eyes bright as they descend on the treat.

My phone chimes an alarm. I’ve got five minutes to make it to the town meeting, and I hate being late. It’s hard enough to be Ferndale Falls’s youngest mayor, and I never want to give anyone reason to doubt voting for me. I brush my long brown hair out of my face and run a hand down my tailored pink shirt, smoothing it back into place. Then I hurry down the sidewalk.

The buildings lining the street are cute as can be, with lots of colorfully painted wood siding and gingerbread trim, but far too many of them stand empty and closed. The bustling tourist hot spot of my childhood is long gone, stolen when a new highway rerouted traffic away from this part of the state. Nothing I’ve done to halt Ferndale Falls’s slow slide into becoming a ghost town has worked, and it makes my heart hurt.

I cut across the town green, the name ironic now that it’s more of a dirt plot than a mini-park. The town cut the budget for its upkeep two mayors ago, and all my attempts to seed grass on my own have failed. Grass, it turns out, is a complete pain in the butt, growing everywhere you don’t want it and nowhere you do.

At least Town Hall still looks grand, the burgundy siding trimmed in fanciful blue curlicues of wood. It’s the only building in town with a third floor, which houses the giant clock that looks out over Main Street, the movement of its ornate brass hands counting us through our days.

I cross the lobby to enter the wood-paneled meeting room, already set up with folding wooden chairs. After all my worry about being late, I’m still the first here, but not by much. Rustles of cloth and footsteps sound behind me as I spread the oatmeal chocolate chip cookies out on a plate. Once everything’s ready, I fill a paper cup with coffee.

A powerful pulse of magic sizzles through the air, zipping across my skin in a buzz of electricity.

I yelp and drop the coffee, splashing the front of my dark jeans. Shit! Thank god one of the burners in the old coffee urn stopped working a year ago. My thighs are mildly warm instead of scalded. RIP my caffeine addiction, though. A tight budget only allowed me to make enough coffee for the usual number of people who come to the monthly town meetings.

“Hannah, are you okay?” Skye hurries over, concern turning her usual smile upside down and washing the color from her light skin. Short and plump and platinum blonde, my friend totally makes it work for her by dressing like a 1950s pinup girl. She pulls a napkin out of the flared skirt of her bright-pink dress and hands it to me. Smart to bring her own. Napkins are another thing I had to axe from the budget last year.

“I’m fine.” I dab at the worst of the spill. My dark jeans barely even show the damp. Even though I always try to look nice, it’s not like the town expects me to dress up as mayor. Hell, half the time, I’m on a ladder somewhere changing light bulbs or tightening screws so I don’t blow any money on repairs. My college class on governmental fiscal responsibility sure never covered becoming the town’s handyman.

Autumn edges up on the other side, looking casually elegant in one of her boho-chic peasant blouses and flowing linen trousers. Excitement fills her pretty, freckled face. “Did you feel that?” she asks, bouncing on her toes and making her long, wavy red hair sway. She throws an arm wide, her golden bangles chiming. “What was that?”

“You felt it, too?” I ask, keeping my back to the room to try to create a bubble of privacy.

They both nod.

Damn. A month ago, a visiting fae told me there are lots of witches in Ferndale Falls and I’m one of them. I kind of brushed it off, since I sure haven’t manifested any magical powers.

But this new pulse of magic is way too big to ignore. How am I supposed to deal with magic in my town? And what if the rest of the world finds out? I’ve seen the movies—those sorts of things never end well, with the government or a big corporation coming in and shipping everyone off to a lab.

“Hannah, what are you thinking?” Autumn says. “You’ve got ‘oh no’ face.”

I take a deep breath. If I’m going to find a way out of this, I need help. Who better to start with than my besties? “I think it was magic,” I murmur.

“Magic!” Skye’s perfectly lipsticked mouth makes a round O.

“Is that what I’ve been feeling this past month?” Autumn asks. “Like electricity in the air?”

I nod and throw a glance over my shoulder. Townspeople file through the open doors of the meeting room, and several head toward the coffee table. “We can’t talk about this here. Let’s chat after.”

Reginald stomps up to the table and grabs a cookie, his tan, weather-lined face set in the perpetual scowl he’s perfected as the town grump. “Not homemade.”

“Sorry.” I give him a sheepish smile. “I didn’t get my grandmother’s baking gene.”

He frowns harder. Here it comes, the question he asks at every meeting. Autumn rolls her eyes behind his back, and Skye fights down a giggle.

“When are you going to get more tourists for the town, young lady?” Reginald grumbles. “In my day, Ferndale Falls was busy and popular.”

My smile slips. I’ve worked overtime for years, trying everything I can. “I—”

“Hannah!” Jared yells, then catches himself and adds my title. “Mayor Wylde! You have to come quick!” He races up the central aisle and vaults a wooden chair Mrs. Greely left in the way, the thick muscles of his thighs straining his black lycra cycling shorts. That’s not exactly shocking—anytime he isn’t glued to his racing bicycle, he moves quickly, as if he’s so addicted to speed he can’t stand to walk like a normal person—but the panicked look on his perpetually sunburnt face is new.

“What is it, Jared?”

“A palace!” He shoves his fancy wrap-around sunglasses up onto his head, leaving him with a reverse raccoon of pale skin around his eyes. Jared jabs a finger toward the north, in the direction of the waterfall that gives the town its name. “It appeared out of nowhere! It’s massive!”

What the hell? Forget worrying about big butterflies and feelings of electricity in the air. There’s no way I can hide a whole freaking palace!

Shock spins me around so quickly a lock of hair gets stuck to my lips. I push the strands away as I dart forward. In no time at all, I’m back outside.

Before I make it more than a few feet, Jared stampedes past me, only to come to a dead stop. I crash into his spandex-covered back and bounce off. I’m tall at almost six feet, but Jared’s thighs alone have more muscle mass than I have on my entire body.

“Oww, Jared.” I rub my smarting nose. “That hurt.”

Instead of offering any kind of apology, he points into the sky.

I squint upward into the bright blue of a clear summer day.

The rest of the townspeople from the meeting fill in behind me. Someone gasps, “What’s that?”

After blinking a few more times, I finally make out a dark dot that grows larger the longer I stare at it. Black wings furl wide on each side of the body, but…

“What the hell is that?” I ask, forgetting to say heckity heck, the kid-friendly phrase I normally use in public. “That’s no bird.”

I expect tsks and titters for the strong language, but none of the town elders say a thing, which says a lot about how shocked everyone is.

A man descends from the heavens like a dark and sinful god, smoke wings cupping the air to either side.

His cheekbones are so sharp they can cut glass, and the wind lifts his long black hair until it flows around him with a life of its own. Damn, he’s got great hair. I always thought I had pretty good hair, but his is on a whole other level.

He’s dressed in skin-tight black leather pants and a white shirt that’s unbuttoned so far down the front it looks like it would fall off if it weren’t for the pinstriped blue waistcoat molded to his broad chest.

Whoa. Who knew waistcoats could be so hot?

He’s rolled the shirtsleeves to his elbows, showing off muscular forearms, which are covered in flowing tattoos, dark against his fair skin. Matching tattoos also decorate what I can see of his chest. Is he tattooed everywhere? What does a girl need to do to find out? I volunteer to lead the exploratory team—for science!

As he comes closer, more details become clear. His ears are pointed, and his wickedly sinful smirk shows off a pair of fangs.

Hands raise phones all around me, aiming them at the sky.

“He’s an angel!” Skye breathes.

“Or a demon,” Autumn says. “One of the sexy kinds.”

“No,” I say. “He’s a fae.”

A month ago, I met a few fae orcs and shifters, but it’s been quiet since then, so I hoped the fae would continue to stay away from Ferndale Falls.

But this new guy squashes that wish flat. More fae have found their way to Earth. Only, what kind is he? I’ve never seen one with shadow wings. And if the silver crown on his head is any indication, he’s a king.

King or not, I don’t care how hot he is—he’s not going to endanger my town!

I step onto the green, putting myself in front of the rest of the townspeople. “What do you think you’re doing?” I yell up at him, hands on hips. “You can’t just go flying around like that! People on Earth don’t know about magic! The government will lock us all up if this gets out!”

“Are you the leader here?” He scowls at me, which only makes his cheekbones look even more amazing. How is that fair?

“I’m the mayor,” I say.

His hand slashes through the air.

All sound goes muffled. I spin to find everyone behind me waving dead phones, their mouths moving, even though I can’t hear them.

“What did you do?” I jab a finger toward the townspeople.

“I turned off their devices and wrapped the two of us in illusion to give us privacy.”

“Why?”

“I am King Severin, ruler of the shadow fae, and I come to make you an offer.” He hovers in the air above me, his eyes spearing me in place. “Give me and my people a place here on Earth, and you will be amply rewarded.”

Rewarded? Ferndale Falls could seriously use a major cash injection, no matter where it comes from. I say, “Explain.”

“I will do better than mere words.” He spreads his hands wide, and the ground beneath my feet stirs.

I shriek like an overheated tea kettle and leap backward onto the sidewalk, destroying any hope of keeping my mayoral poise in front of King Severin.

But who the hell can blame me?

The bare dirt of the green churns. Small trees thrust upward, growing as they go, branches spreading and breaking out into a riot of leaves. I don’t recognize all of them, but the dogwoods bloom with familiar, cheerful white flowers. Bushes come next, azaleas with rich pink blooms and other plants I can’t name. Local ferns dot the ground in the shade of the trees, and beds of flowers break into bloom. Thick grass—the kind of grass I dreamed of every single time I sowed another batch of seed—covers the open spaces.

In only seconds, the town green looks even better than it did when I was a child. It’s perfectly landscaped, with a large enough grassy area for kids to play. I can picture picnic blankets spread out on sunny days and music nights with Jared strumming on his guitar. The breeze picks up the smell of flowers, their sweetness teasing my nose. The brightly painted shops on Main Street appear transformed, looking instantly cheerier due to the restored green. Tears prickle my eyes. It’s like seeing everything I’ve ever wanted for my small town, peace and prosperity written in lush plants that vibrate with beauty and life.

In a gust of wind, the fae king lands directly in front of me, and his shadowy wings disappear into his body, the tattoos on his chest moving as they do so. God, he’s even more gorgeous up close, his eyes a rich emerald that matches the leaves of the trees he just conjured. He’s also taller than me, at least six-and-a-half feet, and his shoulders are deliciously wide.

Long dormant butterflies stir to life in my tummy. In a flash, my lady bits let me know I haven’t dated anyone since I got back from college. There hasn’t been time. I’ve spent every moment of the past few years doing everything I can to save Ferndale Falls, and the dating pool has only gotten smaller since high school, because most of the people who went off to college had to take jobs elsewhere instead of being able to come home.

“Well?” Severin cocks an imperious eyebrow.

“It’s beautiful,” I admit. At his smirk, I add, “But pretty flowers won’t solve Ferndale Falls’s problems. We need shops and cafés and customers for them. We need money.” God, it hurts to admit that to him and his calculating gaze, and heat flares across my cheeks. Dammit. When I blush, I blush hard, and it’s really freaking embarrassing. But I swallow my pride and lift my chin. I’ll do anything for my town. “And we need magical protection. You just put on quite the show—one that could get everyone here in trouble. I refuse to let my town become some kind of government science experiment.”

“I can provide all of those,” he says, his voice beautiful and resonant and beguiling. “For a price.”

I stop myself from swaying forward, a thread of caution cutting through this attraction I feel. “What price?”

“You are the leader of this place?”

“Like I said, I’m the mayor.”

“And you have magic?”

“Yes.” I hide a wince. It’s not a total lie. Even if I have no idea what my powers are, I’m pretty sure I’m a witch.

“I’ll do everything within my power to save and protect your town.” His smirk turns positively wicked.

“All you have to do is marry me.”

CHAPTER TWO

Severin

The beautiful witch gapes at me, her brown eyes so wide I could lose myself in them. The power of her magic called to me as I flew overhead, and close up, she’s even more beguiling. She’s taller than many of the other human women, almost as tall as a fae. Yet she’s curvier than the women of my kind, so the open vee of her pink shirt offers an alluring glimpse of cleavage.

Her light tan skin blushes a fascinating pink as she snaps her mouth closed and swallows. Her every thought shows on her face in the most fascinating fashion. After years surrounded by calculating fae, her candor is refreshing. This one will indeed be fun to dally with.

“You want me to marry you…” she says each word slowly.

“For a year and a day.” Exactly the amount of time needed for the marriage to be sanctified as official in Faerie. And an official marriage is the only thing that will satisfy the fae leaders of the other realms that the shadow fae can be trusted.

The marriage will also cement my claim to hold land on Earth.

My eyes flick past the witch to the trees I called into being, ash and rowan and a local tree, whose seeds sang to my magic from within the ground. Four-petaled white flowers cover its round shape in a profusion of blooms. The flowering bushes my magic conjured have blossoms the same rich pink as the witch’s vibrant blouse.

Earth plant life is so alive, so full of potential that it hums in my blood, a giddy song of growth and joy. Today is the first time I’ve used my plant magic to its greatest extent, and I’m drunk on it and in love with this place already. I set my palace down directly outside town, moving aside the plant life to create a denser barrier of forest around it. So many trees in such a small area! The feeling is heady.

It feeds a need inside me long starved. The Dark God made my elfin ancestors shadow fae even as he stripped our realm of sun and life. I did many evils in his service, yet knowing he deprived me of the natural world that should have been my birthright makes him the true villain.

I need to remain on Earth.

And this pretty little witch can give that to me.

If it comes to it, I’ll seduce her. Our history is full of tales of humans succumbing to our charms, and she’s bewitchingly attractive with her obvious blushes and expressive eyes. Perhaps I’ll seduce her for the pure pleasure of it, whether it’s needed to seal the bargain or not.

“You don’t even know my name,” she says.

“Then give it to me.” I step closer, loving the way her pupils dilate at the movement.

“Hannah.” She squares her shoulders. “Mayor Hannah Wylde, since you’re clearly into titles.”

“Hannah,” I murmur. The lovely name slides across my tongue like silk. Being a palindrome, it speaks of magic and games. How appropriate for a fae queen, even a temporary one. “You may call me Severin.”

“So, Severin.” She gestures to the surrounding buildings. “If I marry you, you’ll protect the town?”

Interesting that she speaks of her town first instead of herself. I can make use of that.

“When you said no one else on Earth could know about magic, I placed a magical shield around the town.” My main magical power might be tied to plant life, but all shadow fae have a range of abilities.

“You trapped us here?”

“No.” I scowl, horrified by the thought. After being forced to serve the Dark God, I’d never imprison anyone against their will. “No one will be trapped. You have my word.”

“We can’t lose contact with the outside world.” Worry stains Hannah’s pretty brown eyes. “But we also can’t let everyone know about all this magic.”

“Fae magic can be quite complex. Anyone not magical themselves or accepting of magic will see a glamoured façade that appears completely mundane.” I gesture to some of the people behind her. “It’s already happening.”

She turns to take in the rest of the townspeople. Several, many of them younger women, have crept closer to the garden I just conjured. Others have already begun to wander off, brows creased in mild puzzlement. I relax the silencing spell for a moment.

“Why did we go outside?” an old man grumbles. “I thought we were having a town meeting.”

“I think the young people wanted to look at the azaleas,” a middle-aged woman answers.

“Why?” He snorts. “Those flowers were here yesterday, and they’ll be here tomorrow.”

“I don’t mind,” the woman says. “Our Hannah has done a lovely job restoring the town green. It deserves to be enjoyed.”

As they move out of earshot, Hannah turns back to me, wonder brightening her gaze. “They think the town green’s been like this? How the hell do they not remember that you did this only five freaking minutes ago?”

“Magic. In fact, everyone who can see magic now thinks it’s completely normal for fae to be on Earth.” I smirk, wrapping us in silence again. “They also think we’re having an adoring lover’s chat right now.”

“What?” she shrieks, spinning to wave a hand in front of the face of a short, blonde woman with pale skin. “Skye! Talk to me, Skye!” Then she gestures at a woman with freckled, light skin and red hair. “Autumn?”

Neither woman reacts.

“They can’t see the real you,” I say. “They think you’re standing right in front of me, staring at me with adoration.”

Hannah turns to face me. “Why?”

“No one can know our marriage is fake.”

“I can’t lie to my best friends!” She shakes her head, her long, straight brown hair swaying. “I won’t.”

Ah, scruples. How very inconvenient.

“I will allow you to tell two people.” I hold up the correct number of fingers to reinforce my point. “But the spell will not allow them to speak of it with anyone but you.”

Emotions flicker across her face in a fascinating display. Does she know she shows every single thing she’s thinking? Her look settles on one of determination. “Let me tell three people, and I’ll do it.”

“Agreed.” A part of me likes that she made a demand of her own. An entire year with a pushover would be boring.

“I’m going to release the illusion now. It’s time to start playing your part.” A pulse of magic radiates outward. I grip Hannah’s hands in mine and walk backward, pulling her onto the grass. Stopping beside a bed of tulips that match the bright pink of her blouse, I sink to one knee.

“Hannah, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

The look of shock on her face is perfect. She’s either a better actor than I credited her for, or she didn’t expect that I would propose so quickly. Yet I refuse to give her time to back out of our arrangement.

I squeeze her fingers, even as soft gasps come from the crowd.

“Yes,” she whispers.

Shrieks fill the green as I stand, and the other women surge forward with a babble of congratulations. They hug Hannah, some of them even crying a little, though these appear to be happy tears. In all my years of battle, I’ve seen tears many times, but never ones of joy. Goddess, it’s confusing.

Thankfully, none of the women hug me. A couple of them start toward me, arms wide. At my scowl, some long-dormant survival instinct kicks in, and they abruptly change their minds. Thank the goddess. I don’t do casual contact. I don’t do casual anything.

“Where did all of this come from?” Skye waves an arm toward the rest of the new garden. “The flowers, the trees!”

“I did it with magic. It’s my engagement present for Hannah,” I lie. “I wanted to propose to her in a beautiful place.”

A chorus of awws come from all the women.

“You can remember him remaking the green?” Hannah asks them.

“Like that’s something you forget,” Autumn says.

“This confirms that you’re both attuned to magic.” Hannah turns to the rest of the women crowded behind. “Everyone who can remember the way the green just came back to life, step closer.”

Several of the women huddle around her.

“There’s a lot we need to talk about. Can everyone meet at eight this evening at the bookshop?” When they nod, she turns back to me. “I’ll see you then. I need to talk to my… fiancé.”

Most of the women move away, heading into the garden I just created, but the blonde and redhead remain by Hannah’s side.

“Come.” I stretch out a hand. My shadows writhe under my skin, setting my tattoos dancing. They long to reach out and coil around her and snatch her to me. “We need to finalize our engagement.”

“Where are we going?”

“To my palace.” Moving my palace to Earth without any type of formal agreement was a bit of hubris. It cannot remain past today unless I bind myself to her to anchor it here.

“You’re the reason there’s a new building on the outskirts of town? I should have known,” she says. “That land doesn’t belong to you.”

“On the contrary. I didn’t place my palace on your land.” Doing so would have destroyed far too many trees and other plant life. “I instead inserted it into your forest. The palace and its grounds are still part of Faerie.”

“That… that’s impossible.”

“No.” I smirk, extending my hand closer to her. “That’s magic.”

“I’m so happy for the two of you.” Skye clings to Hannah’s arm. “This is so romantic.”

“Does he have friends?” Autumn eyes me speculatively. “He’s got that whole bad-boy thing working for him.”

“Boy?” I rear back, lips curling from my fangs in a silent snarl. How dare she? I’ve conquered realms! Thousands have cowered at my feet, begging for mercy. “I assure you that of all the various appellations I may be aptly called, boy is not numbered among them.”

“She meant it as a compliment.” Hannah narrows her eyes at me. “And I don’t care if you’re a king. You don’t talk to my friends in that tone of voice.”

Magic sparks from her, strong for a human, even if no match for mine. Yet I admire her willingness to stand up to me. Not many would do so. Her words also remind me of where I am, who I am now. I’m no longer a warrior king, no longer a fighter. I left all of that behind once released by the Dark God.

I force my expression to ease and remember the part I’m meant to play. “I’m sorry, darling. I’ll try to watch my tone.”

Yells come from the green. One entire bed of tulips uproot themselves and run across the grass on root feet, waving their tall leaves like arms, their flower heads bobbing.

“Oh, god! Now we have flowers freaking running around? How can we explain them?” Hannah spins back to me, jabbing a finger toward the tulips. “Did you do that?”

“No,” I say.

Worry flares in her expressive eyes.

“Finalize our agreement, and I will protect your town.” I offer her my hand again.

Her shoulders go back, and her expression changes to one of determination. “Let’s do this.”

As soon as her fingers touch mine, a bolt of magic zips through me. My shadows leap from my skin, tendrils spooling outward to wrap around Hannah. My wings extend from my back, and I gather her into my arms.

She gasps as her human curves mold to me with bewitching softness, and the sweet smell of her fills my nose, something light and floral and as bright as sun striking water.

A chord thrums in my chest, an unusual feeling I cannot name.

My arms tighten around her as I leap into the air.

CHAPTER THREE

Hannah

Oh, god. Oh, god. I’m flying!

My heart races with a mixture of fear and excitement, like the feeling you get on a rollercoaster. His arms hold me close, magic tingling everywhere our bodies touch. Freaking shadow thingies emerge from the tattoos on Severin’s skin to coil all around me! The smoky-black tendrils are like nothing I’ve ever seen, but no matter how strange they are, their hold makes me feel more secure.

Wind whistles past, tugging on my hair and stroking over my skin, but his shadow wings are completely silent. Even in the fast-moving air, his scent surrounds me, leather and wood smoke and pine. It shouldn’t smell so good, but it does.

Clinging to his shoulders, I twist my upper body, my neck craning so I can see the town. Ferndale Falls looks pretty as a postcard from up here, the rectangle of the town green dotted with white and pink flowers. As we rise higher, more of the town comes into view, showing how Ferndale Falls doesn’t form a circle, like most towns. Instead, the residential area of Victorian houses and adorable cottages spreads south and west. To the north and east, the small downtown area butts up against forest, with the eponymous waterfall right in the center of the “do not build” area.

Or at least it was all forest.

Now, a fairytale palace rises from the trees to the left of the waterfall, full of fanciful spires and heavily carved decorations, all made of white limestone. A detached outer wall circles the main building, creating an open area in the front and a flower-dotted garden in the back.

I sure as hell see why Jared came running to get me. There’s no way I can hide any of this without Severin’s help.

“That’s your home?” It comes out as a shocked whisper.

“It is.” Pressed this tightly to him, his deep voice vibrates through me. He dives, his shadows adjusting their grip as I tip backward.

I let out an undignified eep and cling to his biceps as my cheeks go fiery hot. Shit. I have the blush to end all blushes when I’m embarrassed, and his cocky smirk says he’s seen it. Not that he needs to—he can probably feel the heat radiating off me in waves of mortification like heat lines shimmering over sun-baked summer pavement.

Then I’m twisting again, eager for a view of the waterfall from this height. We flash past the falls, the water cascading down the rock face in a froth that breaks into a million sparkling diamonds where the sun strikes it. The pool below spreads outward in a lovely blue, just waiting for summer swimmers to cool off on our handful of hot days.

Severin flies on, seemingly effortlessly. Treetops race below in a blur of green, suddenly broken by the straight line of the palace’s outer wall. In another abrupt change, he brings us back to vertical, his wings snapping wide to cup the air and slow us.

I make another undignified noise as my startled body instinctively tangles my legs around his, even though he holds me as firmly as ever.

“I’m unused to flying with anyone.” He lands in front of the palace. Thick green moss covers the ground between it and the outer wall instead of grass. “I will attempt to gentle my course adjustments for our future trips.”

“Future trips?” I force my legs to unwind from his and slide down to standing. How am I supposed to survive being plastered to his hard body on the regular?

“I will be carrying you rather often while we’re married.” He raises one eyebrow. “Unless you can fly?”

“Nope. No flying.” Oh, god. Did I just lie? Who the hell knows? I might be able to fly.

I spin away from him, ready to get a better look at the palace. The towers soar overhead, and the arched silver doors of the entrance look too heavy for a person to open. It’s easily the largest building in the entire town multiple times over. “You really didn’t damage any of the forest by bringing this here?”

“I really didn’t,” he says. “You now stand in Faerie. This is a piece of Avalon, my home realm.”

“But we’re on Earth.”

“We are.” He tips his head. “And we aren’t.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Why should it? It’s magic.” He smirks and offers an elbow. “Let me show you the palace.”

With my hand tucked into the crook of his arm, we walk toward the impressive double doors, which gleam like polished silver. They’re each twenty-foot tall and embossed with a flourishing tree. Animals and various small fae peep out from the leafy branches. Severin’s shadows whip out ahead of us and open the heavy metal doors easily, and he escorts me into a grand marble foyer.

Intricate carvings decorate almost every surface, repeating the nature motif of the main doors. Within them, tiny faces full of cunning and mischief peep from behind flowers. A massive chandelier fills the vaulted space overhead, blazing with what must be a hundred candles. Twin staircases curve up each side of the room to form a wide balcony, and rooms open to all sides, each filled with the most exquisite furniture and art.

“This is stunning! It’s one of the most beautiful buildings I’ve ever seen.” Enthusiasm fills my voice. “It’s like something from a movie.”

“We can look at the rest of the rooms later, but there’s something I want you to see.” Severin steers me toward the arched opening framed by the stairs. On the other side is a room even more spectacular than the entry.

Fluted columns march down the sides of the long room, leading to a bright silver throne encrusted with emeralds the same color as Severin’s eyes. Overhead hang more of the gorgeous chandeliers, but most of the room’s light comes from sunlight pouring through the tall, arched windows that line both of the side walls. The stained glass in each depicts more scenes from nature that paint the marble floor in bright splashes of color.

Something seems… odd. It takes me until we’re almost all the way to the throne to figure out what’s bugging me. “Wait! How is there sunlight coming through the windows? We’re in the center of the palace. There’s no way this room could have even one exterior wall, let alone two.”

“Magic, of course.”

“Of course,” I echo, a bit dazed.

I expect Severin to sit on the throne or maybe let me sit there so I can feel how grand it will be to be married to him—Oh! Will I be a queen?—but he pulls me past the throne to a hidden door.

It opens onto the garden I got a glimpse of from the air, and that glimpse did not do it justice.

Instead of a fussy formal garden with plants carefully corralled into uniform beds, a wonderful profusion of color welcomes me. There are more flowers than I’ve ever seen in one place, in every shape and color. Roses, tulips, irises, and lilies I know, but I can’t name most of the others. I’m not even sure we have all of them on Earth. Small trees dot the landscape, providing center points the rest of the plants surround in little islands of color. Moss-covered paths wind through the garden, inviting slow ambles.

“Do you like it?” Severin’s voice sounds a bit hesitant for the first time. This matters to him, even more than what I thought of the palace.

“It’s the most beautiful garden I’ve ever seen.” I meet his gaze, letting him see the sincerity of my words.

He smiles, truly smiles for the first time instead of his usual smirk. It lights his handsome features, making him both better looking and more approachable.

Oh. My heart skips, and the butterflies in my tummy throw a rave, filling me with fluttery fits of excitement. I shove my unruly hands into the pockets of my jeans before I do something like grab his shoulders and lick the tattoo on his chest to see if his skin tastes as delicious as it smells.

“I made it, like I did the town green,” he quietly admits. He leads me to the back of the garden, where a tiny wooden bridge arches over a stream, the water burbling happily over the rocks. A shadow uncoils from his arm to pluck a pink flower the exact color of my blouse. It brings the bloom to his hand, and he tucks it into my hair, the heady floral scent saturating the air.

His fingers brush my ear, making me shiver and starting the butterfly party going again. I cup the flower to the side of my head. “What is it?”

“It’s a peony, one of my favorites.”

“It’s lovely.”

“It is.” His expression hardens, his mask returning. “Now that we’re on Faerie ground, we can finalize our engagement.”

I take a quick step back, my foot thumping on the wood of the bridge. His return to cool and aloof makes all the questions I’ve been ignoring come to a head. I know why I agreed to this marriage—I’ll do anything for Ferndale Falls—but I’m still not sure about him.

“What’s really going on here? You’re a king, you’ve got this amazing palace, and you look… like that.” I flap my hand up and down, taking in his gorgeousness. “Why do you want to marry me?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “To rehabilitate the reputation of my people, I must marry a leader from another realm and prove the stability of my position as king. Hence the year and a day.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you want to marry me.” At his frown, I hurry to add, “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not doing false modesty in order to fish for compliments. I know I’m pretty great. But I’m not fae.”

“It’s true that marrying a fae from one of the other realms might seem like a better fit, but…” He runs a hand through his glorious hair, and instead of messing it up, like it would a normal person, it only makes it look even sexier, all tousled and “just rolled out of bed.”

My hand lifts with a mind of its own, eager to touch that raven-black hair, and I clench my fingers and barely stop myself. God, why do I keep reacting to his beauty like a love-struck teen meeting her favorite boy-band crush?

“But?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest and gripping my elbows to keep my besotted hands in place.

“A fae bride will come with politics and alliances and commitments I don’t want to make. I need something… simpler.”

Ah, so I’m something “simple.” I guess that means he’s in no danger of catching any feelings where I’m concerned.

It shouldn’t sting—I only just met the guy!—but it does. He doesn’t even know me, but he already knows he’ll be able to marry me for a year and then walk away, no problem.

“You’re not that simple,” a male voice says from behind me. “You’ve got me now, and I automatically make everything better.”

I spin. A small wooden gate in the outer wall stands open, framing a view of the familiar forest of home. A few fern fronds dance as if they’ve been disturbed, but no one shows themselves. “Who said that?”

“I didn’t hear anything.” Severin frowns down at me, his gaze assessing.

“Sneaky, sneaky, sneaky,” a different, high-pitched voice shrieks. A squirrel stands on a low branch right over the ferns, its bushy tail jerking in agitation until it looks like a stop-motion film.

Oh, god. I really am hearing things. I better lock Severin into this agreement while I still can. I’m pretty sure “wife who hallucinates” will make me no longer qualify as “simple.” My town needs his magical protection far too much for me to flub this deal.

He flicks his fingers, and a piece of parchment appears in the air. When I mention that I can’t read the language, he changes it to English. It’s our agreement. We will marry for a year and a day. I’ll get new businesses and magical protection for Ferndale Falls, and he’ll get permission to keep his palace here on Earth.

Using a quill, we both sign.

“So that’s it? We’re engaged?” I picture grand balls and unearthly music and a floating confection of a dress, fancy enough for a Faerie queen.

“Not quite yet. I need one of your hairs.” He plucks one of his own.

I hand him one of mine, and he grips my fingers in his and wraps both strands of hair around our clasped hands. “I, King Severin of the shadow fae, do name thee, Hannah, as my betrothed.”

At his nod, I repeat his words. “I, Mayor Hannah Wylde of Ferndale Falls, do name thee, Severin, as my betrothed.”

Nothing about this engagement has been like the movies always show. Severn might have gotten down on one knee, but he sure as hell doesn’t love me.

But my immediate disappointment melts as magic spirals around us in a tingle of electricity that sets my body humming.

Severin’s gaze meets mine, and his grip tightens.

Awareness thickens the air between us, and I lick my lips.

Is he going to kiss me?

CHAPTER FOUR

Severin

Hannah’s pink tongue swirls over her lips in the most fascinating way.

My shadows writhe under my skin, eager to snatch her to me. My magic’s never felt this out of control before. Then again, this is the first time I’ve formed this type of bond with anyone. It must be the ancient betrothal magic affecting me so.

Or perhaps it’s her honest appreciation for my garden. I created it as soon as I brought my palace to Earth, enthralled with all the potential for life this realm holds. It’s my very first such creation, but its layout is one I spent years designing within the depths of my mind, in a small space I kept free from the Dark God’s thrall.

Whatever the reason for this unusual sensation, I don’t like feeling out of control. A shadow tendril slips out and snaps the hair strands holding our hands together, so I can take a step away. Away from those big brown eyes, away from the alluring candor of Hannah’s unguarded expressions, away from the scent of her skin, sweeter than any flower.

“That’s it? We’re engaged?” she asks. “When will we get married?”

“We’ll have the official ceremony after you win one of the bride trials.”

“Trials? What trials?” She pulls her hand back, a frown pinching her brow. “You didn’t say anything about any trials!”

“It’s an ancient tradition.” I scowl. “One I wish I could do away with, yet I cannot.” Everything about this marriage must be beyond reproach if I’m to win the approval of the other fae rulers and convince them I no longer serve the Dark God. How better than to have a human wife? The fae kings of old would never take such a queen, considering humans weak. Keeping one alive for a year will surely prove I’m reformed.

“It’s not a hunger games fight to the death or something?” Her lips pull down in an exaggerated grimace. “’Cause I gotta say, I’m not a fighting type of girl.”

“There will be no deaths, and you will not be starved in any way,” I growl. Goddess. Did humans still do such things for entertainment? And to think people called me a villain. Yes, I waged war and conquered thousands, but those under my rule ate. There was certainly always decent bread.

“So what will the trials be?” she asks.

“Tests of magical ability as befit a ruler of the fae.”

Hannah fiddles with the peony, adjusting it behind her ear in a nervous gesture.

“That won’t be a problem, will it?” I ask. She’s a witch—I can feel her magic.

“Nope!” she says, her voice artificially bright. “Not a problem at all.”

Is she so uncomfortable because she knows nothing of our ways? I attempt to put her at ease. “There will be three trials, and you only need to win one of them to be a finalist. I pick my bride from the winners, and as per our agreement, I will choose you.”

“What will the trials be? Are they dangerous?”

“They won’t be dangerous, but I don’t know what they’ll be. The trials are created by ancient magic, and historically, they’ve been competitions designed to test grace, strength, and discernment.”

“Who will I be competing against?”

“Eligible contestants from the other fae realms.”

Her fingers twirl the flower stem, making the bloom spin as she bites her lower lip. “How many?”

“I don’t yet know.” I’m torn about what to hope for. If the Faerie realms send no contestants, my marriage to Hannah can begin immediately, which is what I want. Yet if the other fae send no one, it will indicate that they’re truly ready to cut all ties to the shadow fae, which will be disastrous for me and my people.

I send my shadows racing toward the palace. They return carrying folded pieces of parchment.

One by one, the prepared invitations touch my open palm, and I send a pulse of magic into them, activating the port charm embedded in their wax seals. They wink out of existence, each one sent to the rulers of the various Faerie realms. When the last piece of parchment falls onto my hand, I hold it out to Hannah. “Your formal invitation.”

She breaks the seal and unfolds the declaration, frowning down at the paper. “I can’t read it.”

I flick my fingers against the parchment, adding a simple translation spell.

“This says the first trial is in two days.” Her eyes widen as she waves the paper at me. “And the other two trials will follow over the coming weeks.”

“What seems to be the problem?”

“Ferndale Falls can’t wait that long! We need help now.” Her voice hits a high note, and she pauses to take a deep breath. She blows a lock of brown hair off her face and starts again, her voice calmer as she quickly collects herself. “With all the new magical people coming to town”—she waves a hand at me—“and things happening like the tulips running around, we need the protection now.”

“I will ensure your town’s protection throughout the duration of the trials, and as a show of good faith, I will also arrange what new businesses I can.” After all, even if the humans have a bakery, it’s unlikely it will match the amazing bread a brownie can bake using hearth magic, and I refuse to go two weeks without good bread.

“And the permanent protection?” she asks.

“The spells will go into place as soon as we’re wed.”

“Thank you.” She grips my hand, her big eyes staring up at me, full of admiration.

It’s not a look I’m accustomed to seeing, and I like it far too well. I should correct her, let her know I do all of this to create a place on Earth for me and my people, not to help hers.

Yet I remain quiet.

I’m selfish enough to want her to keep looking at me this way.

Hannah refuses my offer of a flight to town, saying she wants to walk back through the woods to have time to think.

I remain in my garden until I feel the moment she steps off my land, then make my way inside.

Due to the anchoring spell I had my people use, my palace exists both on Earth and in Avalon, my home realm of Faerie. But people can only exist in either one or the other, so I also had them create a door to Avalon.

I push aside one of the heavy tapestries decorating the foyer’s wall to reveal a mirror set in a heavy gilt frame. The surface offers a darkened reflection of the well-lit room behind me and offers no resistance as I step through into another world.

There’s a moment of disorientation that feels like falling, then my foot touches firm marble. Technically, I stand within an exact copy of the foyer I just left. In actuality, it’s immediately clear it’s not. Magic hums in the ground, more powerful than that on Earth but splintered and unfocused. The air becomes stale without the sweet scent of growing things, and the tapestries lose some of their color. The chandelier blazes overhead yet can’t quite light everything clearly, a haze of shadows clinging to corners and cracks—the lingering legacy of the Dark God.

My shadows slip outward, calling my closest advisors to me.

Daigan stalks in first, a perpetual scowl on his face and his shadow wings flaring wide. Even though he has the same light skin and black hair as I do, my warlord carries almost as much muscle as an orc. He also still wears fighting leathers, having refused to adopt a more human approach to clothing. There’s a reason I’ve tasked him with remaining here in Avalon to oversee its recovery.

“How go the preparations?” I ask. Since it’s impossible—at least at first—to bring all of the shadow fae to Earth, we’re setting up a rotation. My palace can hold a hundred at a time, and beyond my immediate staff, everyone else will switch out each week.

“They go,” he grunts, as eloquent as ever. But Diagan’s solid as a rock. If he says things are well in hand, then they are.

“He’s being modest.” Varyn strolls into the room, his smile so wide it makes one question whether it’s a show of good humor or a flash of fangs. Long years as his friend mean I know the answer is of course both. Silver tattoos coil over his dark-tan skin, matching the color of his metallic silver hair. Varyn is a very rare being, an ice fae turned shadow fae. He happily adopted human clothing and wears a dark-blue shirt offset with a silver waistcoat. “Daigan’s whipped everyone into line like the drill sergeant he was.”

“Ah, Varyn, just the person I wanted to see,” I say.

“You have something for me?” He spreads his hands wide. “I perish from boredom.”

“I do. The human town we’re joining needs new businesses. I want you to arrange for as many as you can from among the various types of fae.”

“What kinds of businesses?”

“Start with eateries and places our people will want to frequent. Shadow fae will make up a large part of the customer base.” Then I add on a personal request. I have my priorities, of course. “Make sure you find a brownie baker.”

“There’d better be a decent pub,” Diagan growls. “Orcs would be good for that.”

I scowl. He’s right—orcs make the best ales and ciders in all the realms—but there’s a problem. “The orcs of Alarria hate us. They’ve forbidden us from settling in their realm, due to all the warfare in the shadow fae’s past. They don’t care that was done under the orders of the Dark God.”

“But the orcs love their humans,” Varyn says. “They already have strong ties with the people of Ferndale Falls, since their leaders have married women from the town. I can work with that.”

“We’ll need our best conjurers to bespell the buildings as well,” I say. “Many of them are empty and unused. We should assume they’ll need to be fully furnished and equipped.”

“On it,” Daigan says.

“Lastly, the human town also needs an ongoing protection spell. The one I cast will fade in two weeks. I want everything prepared to make it permanent.” Like all shadow fae, my elfin ancestry means I have the ability to work several types of magic, but my main magical power is the only one that will endure, my plant magic. The revitalized green in Ferndale Falls will last forever with appropriate upkeep.

“What kind of spell?”

“One that protects it from anyone who doesn’t believe in magic. Let the regular humans see nothing but what they expect.”

“Glamours and illusions.” Varyn’s smile shows off his fangs. “Excellent.”

“Does all of this mean that your marriage idea went well?” Daigan asks.

“It did.” I tip my head. “I have betrothed the local human leader and gotten her agreement to let us make a home on Earth.”

“You’re betrothed!” Daigan scowls. “How could you do such a thing before she wins the bride trials?”

“Come now.” Varyn waves a dismissive hand. “You know a betrothal isn’t binding for a royal. If need be, Severin can dissolve it.”

“No.” The word shoots from me before I can stop it. “There will be no dissolution.”

Daigan frowns. “But showing up to the trials with a fiancée will upset the other women.”

“I’m not the first royal to bring a favorite to the trials. In fact, a few of my ancestors loaded their competitions with nothing but their lovers,” I say. “I had to betroth the human to anchor the palace on Earth. I had no choice.” One touch of that living world, and I refused to live without it. I need the magic of my new garden and the vibrancy of the Earth trees.

And I need a pretty pair of brown eyes that look at me with admiration.

“If anyone says anything, we’ll cite precedence.” Varyn gives a casual shrug. “It won’t be a problem.”

“Not a problem?” The warlord’s brow pinches in a deep scowl. “You’ve painted a target on her back. All of the other contestants will know you’ll choose her if she wins even a single trial, so they’ll try to make sure she doesn’t.”

“All of the other contestants will treat her well for fear of my wrath,” I growl.

“Not if they know you don’t actually care about her, they won’t.”

“Hannah and I have already agreed to act as if it’s a love match. The rest of Faerie will never know our marriage is fake. Everything will work out exactly as I want.”

“If she wins the bride trials.” Daigon’s wings stir restlessly on his back.

“Hannah has powerful magic. I can feel it.” And if things start going poorly, I’ll find a way to ensure she wins. “Fair” and “good sportsmanship” have no place in a shadow fae’s heart if they stand in the way of what I want.

There will be no problems with my plan.

CHAPTER FIVE

Hannah

Dammit! I’m so screwed. There’s a huge problem with this plan. Massive! Me—I’m the problem. How the hell am I supposed to win a magical competition if I don’t even know what kind of magic I have, let alone how to use it?

My phone’s working again, so I shoot a text to my witch bestie Naomi. Are you still on Earth?

There’s no reply, but I didn’t really expect one, since it’s already past six in the evening. Naomi’s got the farthest commute of anyone anywhere. She works in her Ferndale Falls bookshop by day and goes home to her gorgeous orc husband in Faerie each night. Her witchy teleportation powers make it faster than any drive, but it sure puts her phone out of range.

Text me as soon as you get to town in the morning. I need help with magic and fae stuff, I type. I’m using the bookstore this evening for a meeting. Hope it’s okay! I wince. Naomi might have given me a key, but this is the first time I’ve used the shop in this way. Still, it’s also the place that feels right, since it’s where I learned about magic and Faerie.

That meeting I mentioned? It’s more important than ever, I text to Skye. As town librarian, she’s got everyone’s contact info. Get all the women who could see magic to meet at I Touch My Shelf tonight at 8.

Already on it.

Tell them it’s to talk about magic, I reply. But if they need to tell other people something, we can say we’re starting a book club.

Yes!!! A series of exuberant emojis follow. Autumn says she’s bringing drinks.

Perfect! See you then! A grin stretches my cheeks as I slide my phone into my back pocket. If there’s one thing I can always count on, it’s my friends.

A chipmunk skitters across the forest path several feet in front of me, and a tiny voice says, “Bigs! Bigs are coming!”

“Who said that?” I ask, but get no response.

Walking on, I kick up a clump of dried pine needles, making them shower over a fern in a cloud of orange confetti. I immediately feel bad and lean over to brush it off, setting the fiddleheads swaying.

“Rude,” a male voice says—the same one I heard in the palace garden. “What did that poor plant ever do to you?”

“Okay, enough!” I yell, hands on hips. “I’m tired of hearing voices! Whoever you are, come out now or piss off!”

Movement makes the waxy leaves of a nearby rhododendron shiver, and a flash of orange appears through the gaps, in colorful contrast to the heavy white flowers.

“I saw that!”

“I meant for you to.” A red fox pads out from behind the bush and sits down, wrapping his floofy, white-tipped tail around his front feet like a cat. Most of his fur is a rich orange that makes me think of autumn leaves, pumpkin spice lattes, and snuggling into my favorite sweater. He’s also got dark brown legs and a white chest and throat that extend upward to the bottom of his face so that his dark whiskers clearly show. He’s smaller than I expected, less than two-feet tall, so only a little bigger than a house cat, and a third of him seems to be tail. “Trust me. You’re not going to see me unless I want you to.”

Shock zips through me. It’s really him speaking! “You… you… you’re a fox!”

“How astute,” he says dryly. “Are all humans this observant, or did I get lucky and get one of the smarter witches?”

“Are you fae werefox?” I’ve met several fae shifters: dragons, werewolves, and werepanthers. “Do you shift into a human form?”

“No!” He sounds horrified, his tail lashing. “Why would I ever want to do that? I’m amazing.”

“But you’re talking.” I spread my hands, palms up.

He lets out a long-suffering sigh. “I’m your familiar. Or more accurately, you’re my witch.”

“My familiar! That’s amazing!” I’ve read a little about how familiars can aid their witches. “Did you show up now to help me win the bride trials?”

“I showed up now because I was ready to do so.” He gives me a fox grin. “Although, of course, you’ll have a much better chance of winning with me around.”

“I’m sure I will.” I crouch down and extend a hand. “Do you like ear scratchies?”

“Let’s find out.” He saunters forward, his amber eyes watching me carefully.

I keep my touch light at first, skimming my fingertips over the silky fur of his forehead, then curve around the back of one of his ears, letting my nails dig into the crease. The fox doesn’t smell exactly like a dog—his scent’s musky with a floral note that I like.

His eyes slowly close to halfway, and he starts to purr! It’s a rumbling growl on each exhale instead of a continuous sound like a cat, but it’s a purr, and it’s too freaking cute!

I switch to the other ear and repeat my attentions, marveling at how soft his fur is.

When I finally pull my hand away, his eyes open and he snaps at me, his mouth closing around the meat of my hand with only the lightest brush of fangs.

“Dwhph shwphe,” he says.

“I can’t understand you.”

The fox drops his grip on my hand. “I didn’t say you could stop.”

“Like it, do you?” I chuckle and give him more scratchies. “I’m Hannah. What’s your name?”

“Hmmm,” he hums, leaning against my knee. “I doubt you can say it.” He gives a deep chuff of a bark followed by a few yips.

I repeat it as best I can.

He laughs, the high ha-ha-has sounding almost human. “Your accent is atrocious. We’ll stick to your language. Foxish is clearly too complicated for you.”

I grin, amused by how sassy he is. “Clearly.”

Magic tingles around us for several seconds. Then he says, “I have picked a human name. You may call me Finn.”

“Finn the fox.”

He snorts. “I rather think the fox part is apparent, so just Finn.”

“It’s nice to meet you, just Finn.” I push to standing. “I’ve got to get back to town.”

“Humans. You’re always dashing around, but none of it looks like hunting.”

“You’re right. A trip to the grocery store is way down on my list of priorities.” I continue along the path to the waterfall. “My life’s more complicated than that. Especially lately.” Oh, god. Am I really telling an animal I just met all of my problems? When people say they have a therapy pet, I don’t think this is what they mean.

Or maybe it is. I remember whispering preteen angst into the fur of Benji’s neck as he let me hug him after a long day of school. The mixed-breed rescue was part golden retriever, part something else, and the best boy, always greeting me with doggie kisses and a wagging tail.

I haven’t had a pet since I went away to college, because I couldn’t have one in my dorm room. When I moved back to Ferndale Falls and into my own cottage, I kept telling myself I didn’t have the time to give a pet the attention they deserve, but maybe I should have made time.

“What are you thinking?” Finn says from right beside me.

I startle. He’s so silent that the sound of the waterfall kept me from realizing he’s been slipping through the woods to my right. “You’re still here.”

“Where else would I be?” His ears tip forward in what looks like a fox frown. “Didn’t you hear me earlier? I’m your familiar, which means you’re my witch. We’re bonded.”

“Bonded.” I grin. “I like that.”

He snorts again, but his ears are high, his bushy tail lifted like a perky flag, the white tip waving higher than the fiddleheads.

The trees open up on the waterfall, the continuous rush of splashing water soothing, but I don’t have any time to linger, so I circle the pond to take the trail to town.

A blur of bright blue darts past the corner of my eye, and I whip around to peer into the trees. “Did you see that?”

“Yes.”

“Thank god! I thought I was seeing things as well as hearing them.” I shove my hair off my face. “Do you know what it is?”

“No, and I don’t like it.” Finn gives an irritated bark. “I should know what everything is—this forest is my home.”

“It’s probably a fae,” I say.

“It was glowing.” Finn sounds affronted.

“It was magic.” A thrill thrums through me. Talking to Finn proves it once and for all. I really am a witch!

I just need to figure out my powers, so I can win this bride thingy, marry Severin, and save Ferndale Falls before the protection spell wears off in two weeks. How hard can it be?

CHAPTER SIX

Hannah

The low light of evening makes Main Street look wonderfully different now that trees and flowers fill the town green. Even the air smells sweeter.

“What is that?” Finn’s ears perk as soon as he sees the green. “That wasn’t here last time!”

“You’ve been to town before?”

We pass under one of the streetlights right as he shoots me some fox side-eye. “Of course I have. It’s part of my territory.”

“Of course.” I grin.

A group of tulips gallop across the open grass of the green, the bright colors of their flower heads slightly muted by dusk’s fainter light.

Finn lets out an excited yip and dashes off.

“Don’t hurt them!” I call after him. “They’re just flowers!”

“Just a little chase.” He slows and slinks around a rhododendron, his tail held low and sneaky. “No biting, I promise.”

I chuckle and shake my head as I walk past the closed ice cream shop, for once not upset by the infamous pothole that dominates the street in front of it. That pothole has been the bane of my existence for years, swallowing every bit of blacktop poured into it and the town’s entire road-works budget. “I’ll get you yet,” I mutter. “I’ll get my magical fiancé to fix you once and for all.”

Or for at least two weeks, until our initial deal runs out, because without control of my witchy powers, I’ll lose this Bachelor-style competition, and all the wonderful magical protections and perks will fade away.

No. I’ll find my magic and win these bride trials so I can marry Severin and make the protection permanent.

The key twists in the lock, the front door of I Touch My Shelf swings open, and the familiar scent of paper wraps around me like a hug. My fingers find the light switch without fumbling, the bookstore like a second home. Table and floor lamps snap on throughout the shop, in an eclectic assortment of Tiffany stained glass thrifted over the years, no two alike. Their golden glow lights the display tables piled with featured books as well as the wooden bookshelves that line the walls and fill the side of the store. I head straight for the seating area, made up of comfortable velvet-covered couches in burgundy and old-gold.

“Oh, good, you’re here!” Skye shoulders through the door, her hands full of a wide tray covered in…

“You made your special cupcakes!” My mouth waters as the sweet scent hits me.

“Of course I made cupcakes! You got engaged, and we’re finally starting a book club.”

Skye’s grandmother used to run the town bakery, but it closed a few years ago. The old woman gifted one of her famous recipes to each member of her family, and Skye got cupcakes. But not just any old cupcakes. No, these are cupcake perfection—moist vanilla cake topped with buttercream icing laced with the rich hint of butterscotch. The only thing missing from the ones she carries are sprinkles, but I bet that’s on purpose.

“You mean our excuse to drink and hang out?” Autumn steps inside. Unbleached canvas tote bags dangle from each hand, glass bottles clinking softly in time with her metal bangles. She bustles over to the side table that holds a small coffee maker and starts setting up, pulling out a handful of liquor bottles, vodka, rum, coffee liqueur, and cinnamon whiskey. The rest of the bags are filled with paper cups, cereal milks, flavored syrups, and ziplocked bags of cereal. My friend specializes in three different cereal milk cocktails and makes them better than any bartender: cinnamon crunch cocktails, cocoa puffs white Russians, and crunch berry cocktails.

“You brought extra!” Skye snatches up a bag of cinnamon toast cereal and sprinkles pieces onto one of the cupcakes. She’s topped her bright-pink dress with a black shrug cardigan and changed into platform pumps to match, taking her outfit from day to night.

“Of course I did!” Autumn grins at Skye and starts making a cinnamon crunch cocktail for her. The sweet and shy librarian has a hidden spicy side.

“You guys are the best!” I step between them so I can wrap an arm around each. “Thanks for doing one of your coordinated cupcake and cereal milk cocktail nights for me.”

“It’s not every day we get to celebrate an engagement.” Autumn gives the cocktail shaker a good swirl. “Plus, I don’t get to do this that often. The farm has been busy.” Her family owns a goat farm that uses the milk to make soap, and my friend’s been working extra to save up to open a retail store featuring all of their products.

“I’m glad you’re both early, because I have something to tell you, but I can only tell you two.”

They stop what they’re doing and look at me.

“The engagement and marriage to Severin? It’s all fake.”

They both shake their heads as a tiny ripple of magic zings through the air.

“Oh, my god!” Autumn presses a hand to her face. “Why wasn’t I worried about you marrying a complete stranger until just now?”

“My head feels funny,” Skye says, her face scrunched.

“Severin did some kind of spell to make our fake engagement seem real and to get people to accept the fae,” I say. “Me telling you the truth broke its hold on you.”

“You just said fake engagement. You’re not going to marry him?” Autumn asks as Skye just gapes at me, her eyes filled with worry.

“Oh, I’ll marry him,” I mutter. “But it’s all fake. It’s only for a year, and he made it crystal clear he’ll never feel anything for me.” I’m just a “simple” little human, after all.

“Then why are you doing it?” Skye asks.

I outline his promise to protect Ferndale Falls from people unfriendly to magic. They both frown at me, so I add on the part about him getting new businesses for the town.

“You’re going to marry a stranger just to protect the town?” Autumn says. “That’s a bit much.”

“Hey! You’ve seen the movies! What do you think will happen if we don’t have some kind of protection? I don’t want to wind up in the magical equivalent of Area 51.”

My friend’s lips twist, but she doesn’t tell me I’m wrong.

When the door handle jiggles, indicating someone else is about to enter the shop, I blurt, “We can’t talk about the marriage being fake in front of the others. It’s part of the agreement.” As the door swings open, I whisper-hiss, “So act happy for me.”

“Yo, bitches!” Jasmine bursts through the door in a whirl of bright color and smiling joy, her turquoise top making her warm brown skin gleam. A matching satin scarf lifts her brown hair high so it fountains from the top of her head in a riot of curls. She’s about as tall as me, except she’s got better curves.

“Hello!” I laugh, trying to act as happy as I’d be if I genuinely got engaged.

An amused expression covers Kayla’s light face as she steps inside and puffs her purple bangs out of her eyes. Tall and plump, she wears distressed jeans and one of her slogan tees, this one saying: I’m not always sassy. Sometimes I sleep.

Violeta comes next, a smile dancing over her tan face. The golden highlights in her long brown hair catch the light, framing her features perfectly. She’s short and curvy, and a cream-colored cropped sweater falls off one shoulder to show the pumpkin-orange tank top underneath.

The three of them surge forward, eyeing the drinks and cupcakes as more women pour through the door behind them, Willow, Emily, Abril, Madison, Destiny, and Rachel. The next ten minutes are a whirl of Autumn mixing cocktails and Skye sprinkling matching cereals onto cupcakes.

We overflow the available couches, so I perch on the arm of one, my hip brushing Skye’s shoulder. I take a sip of my cocoa puffs white Russian. Yum. The cereal milk makes the coffee cocktail wonderfully mocha, and Skye has sprinkled chocolate cereal across the top of my cupcake.

Autumn takes the arm opposite me, holding her crunch berry cocktail as she bites into her cupcake topped with fruity cereal bits.

For several minutes, everyone eats and drinks, complimenting both Skye and Autumn. Then Kayla shoots me a questioning glance. “You wanna say why we’re here?”

“All of you could see Severin fly, right?” I ask. “And how he turned the green into a garden?”

Everyone nods, and Jasmine teases, “You mean the flying shadow daddy of hotness who’s your fiancé?”

Wow, that spell Severin did to make everyone accept the fae is seriously powerful. The other women aren’t batting at eye that a guy just flew out of the sky!

“Okay, so…” I take a quick sip of fortification. “You remember that day a month ago when all of those people filmed a fantasy movie on Main Street?”

“You mean the one with orcs?” Kayla says.

“Yep. Only… it wasn’t a movie, and those weren’t actors,” I say. “They were fae.”

Skye and Autumn gasp, but the rest of the women nod as if it’s no big deal, still swayed by Severin’s spell.

“That’s the day Naomi opened the door to Faerie and brought magic to Earth.”

“Naomi, as in our Naomi who owns this bookshop?” Skye asks.

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe you kept this from us,” Autumn says, sounding hurt.

Skye gives a small nod, her bright-pink mouth making a sad moue.

“Sorry. I didn’t know how to talk about it.” I wince, hating that I’ve hurt their feelings. “The only reason I have any idea is because I barged in and demanded to know what was happening in my town.” I meet their eyes, one after the other. “It turns out the door to Faerie lets magic flow to Earth, specifically here to Ferndale Falls. It was a trickle at first, but I think it’s getting stronger. There was a big pulse of magic earlier today right before Severin showed up. Have you felt a strange electricity in the air?”

This time, everybody gasps.

“Oh. My. God!” Jasmine says. “I thought I was losing my mind!”

“Me, too.” Violetta nods. “I didn’t know who to talk to about it.”

“I’m glad you said something,” Kayla says. “I’ve been feeling it for weeks. What does it mean? Why can we remember Severin changing the green, but those other people can’t?”

I meet Skye and Autumn’s eyes and take a big breath. “I think it means you’re all witches.”

The chorus of “Whats?” and “Witches?” is punctuated by Skye’s, “That’s so exciting!”

Autumn, ever more practical, leans forward and says, “How can you know?”

“When all those fae came to town a month ago, one of them told me I’m a witch and there are lots of witches in Ferndale Falls.”

“And you believed them?” Jasmine asks.

“I didn’t at first, because I haven’t seen any proof that I have magical powers. But today changed all of that. I think all of us being able to see and feel magic means it’s true.”

“If we’re witches,” Skye says, “are we supposed to start doing spells and waving wands and stuff?”

“I don’t know. That’s one of the things that’s made all of this so hard to talk about, besides worrying you’d all think I’d lost it.” I nibble on my cupcake. “Now that there’s magic on Earth, we should be able to use our powers.”

“What kind of powers?” Kayla narrows her eyes.

“I don’t know!” I hate not knowing things, and it feels like it’s all I can say today. After a fortifying sip of my drink, I say, “Naomi’s witch powers are tied to a crystal pendant that glows every time she does magic.”

Violeta asks, “So if we get crystals, we’ll be able to use our magic?”

“Maybe?” I shrug, losing some of the chocolate crunchies from the top of my cupcake before I jerk to stillness again. Oops. I’ll vacuum the floor after the meeting.

“I’ve got one!” Autumn sets down her food and digs into the necklaces she wears, teasing out a silver chain with a crystal pendant. “What do I do?”

“Hold it and call on your magic,” I say.

Autumn grips the crystal and closes her eyes, frowning with so much effort her red eyebrows draw together. She strains for several moments, then relaxes with a whoosh of expelled breath. “Nothing.”

She peels the necklace over her head, untangles the chain from her wavy hair, and hands it to Jasmine.

The crystal pendant goes around the circle, each of us trying. When it gets to me, I close my eyes and strain with everything I have, even whispering abracadabra and bippity boppity boo under my breath, in case words help. Nothing.

I hand it to Skye, who’s the last to try, but it doesn’t work for her either. She gives the necklace back to Autumn.

“Okay, so it’s a no on crystals.” I tap my finger against the side of my cup. “But I bet we don’t need them. Someone made the tulips walk without a crystal. Severin says it wasn’t him, so it must have been one of us.”

Murmurs and head shakes as we all look at each other.

“Talk to your mothers, your grandmothers.” I glance around the room, catching everyone’s eye. “See if you have any family history of being witches. Maybe old spell books or something.”

Autumn nods. “I’ll also talk to some of my parents’ friends from when they were all in a commune.”

“I’ll use library loan to order books on magic,” Skye says.

“I can do some internet deep dives.” Kayla pulls out her phone and types a few notes.

“And I’ll talk to Naomi in the morning. Since she’s able to use her witch powers, maybe she’ll know something that can help,” I say. “With the group of us working together, I know we can figure it out.”

“Our group needs a name,” Autumn says. “We could call ourselves the Ferndale Falls Coven.”

“Maybe not coven.” Violeta frowns. “Too many people are weird about witchcraft being evil instead of something wonderful.”

“Let’s keep saying we’re a book club,” Skye answers, the librarian in her ever hopeful.

“The Witch Bitch Book Club,” I say.

“No.” Skye wiggles her eyebrows. “The Witch Bitch Spicy Book Club. It’ll keep people from asking questions about what we’re reading.”

A laugh bursts from me. I’m as delighted as ever when my friend’s naughty side shows. “I love it! Is everyone in?”

Nods all around.

“Let’s start a group text chat.” I pull out my phone. “If anyone finds anything, I need you to let me know right away. It can’t wait.”

Jasmine asks, “What’s the rush? We’ve all made it into our twenties without witchy powers. We can take a little time figuring this out.”

“You can, but I can’t.” I give a pained smile when they all look at me. “So my marriage to Severin…”

“The scorching hot shadow daddy who picked you up and flew off into the sky?” Violeta asks with a knowing grin, and everyone laughs.

“Yeah, him.” I twirl my cup back and forth. “He asked me to marry him, but it’s not as simple as that. I have to prove I’m worthy of marrying him by doing these magical bride trials. The key word being ‘magical.’ I’ve got less than two weeks to figure out my magic.”

“Uh, problem.” Autumn jabs her cupcake toward me, dropping a piece of cereal into Skye’s cocktail with a tiny splash.

The other woman shrugs and takes a drink of her cinnamon crunch cocktail.

Undeterred, Autumn continues, “What’s with you needing to prove you’re worthy? I can’t believe anyone thinks you’re not worthy. You’re the hardest working person I know!”

“But he’s a fae. An utterly hot and magically powerful fae who can fly,” Skye says, sounding a little breathless. Then she winces, clears her throat, and her tone becomes serious. “And it’s so totally wrong that he says you’re not good enough.”

“It’s not him. It’s fae tradition. And winning the trials is about more than Severin and our feelings for each other.” Especially since there aren’t any. “Once we’re married, he can make the magical protections around the town permanent. Ferndale Falls needs this.”

“Girl, you need to get a life,” Jasmine says, and several others umm their agreement.

That stings a little. “I’ve got a life! Sure, it’s a little career focused right now, but someday—”

“There is no someday,” Autumn says, adopting what I call her ‘Yoda voice,’ which she uses whenever she’s trying to sound really enlightened and profound. “There’s only today.”

I open my mouth, ready to protest that I’m getting married, which is only something people with a life do, but it snaps closed. Even if most of the women don’t know the marriage is fake, I do, which means Jasmine kind of has a point.

But that’s a future-Hannah problem!

“I’m with my besties eating cupcakes and drinking yummy cocktails! This is my best life! Here’s to the Witch Bitch Spicy Book Club!” I lift my cup in a toast to all of them, take a drink, then bite into my cupcake, letting the sweet taste of buttercream and vanilla and chocolate take me to my happy place.

After everyone cheers and drinks, Skye looks up at me with excited eyes. “What was it like to fly?”

For a second, I’m back in Severin’s arms, wrapped in his shadows and strength. An electric tingle goes through me, and the butterflies in my stomach kick up their own party.

“Oh, my god! Your face,” Autumn crows, pointing. “You have to tell us absolutely everything.”

I grin and fan myself, making everyone laugh and lean forward, clamoring for all the details.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Severin

I wake after my first night on Earth amazingly refreshed. Sleeping with the vitality of the forest spread all around the palace has replenished something within me I hadn’t realized I lacked. Plant magic is an unusual power for a shadow fae, and I spent most of my life practicing my lesser magics, such as illusions and glamour. To finally be able to use my main power is heady.

This invigorating feeling makes me even more determined to finalize my deal with Hannah. I’ll do whatever it takes to remain on Earth. I will not leave this realm.

I throw off the down comforter and leap from my bed.

No one scurries from the shadows to make it. For years, I kept a full complement of servants. Once the Dark God released us, they fled, and as part of my attempt to reform, I let them go. A sigh escapes me at needing to find new ones.

In the meantime, there’s magic. A flick of my hand sends my shadows spiraling outward to pull back the heavy velvet drapes covering the arched windows. Sunlight pours in, making the marble floor gleam and picking out the colors of the rich tapestries that adorn the walls. Another flick, and my bed is made, the heavy, brocade counterpane adding its own decoration of silver-shot blue to the four-poster bed.

After a refreshing swim in my bathing pool, I dress. The black leather pants and boots are familiar, since I’ve lived my entire life in leather, but the softness of the fine weave of the cloth shirt still surprises me as it slips over my skin like a caress. I button it only partway and cuff the sleeves. My shadows can slip through fabric—they do so every time I form wings—yet it feels better to leave some of my tattoos uncovered and ready to act. I shrug into a embroidered waistcoat and leave the crown behind. Today’s visit to Ferndale Falls needn’t be as formal as yesterday’s.

The palace hums around me as I stalk down its halls, full of the first group of shadow fae to visit Earth. I’ll soon acquire local currency for them so they can venture into town, but for now, they can be content with the beauty of the palace garden and surrounding forest.

It’s early, so I cross paths with only a few others, yet even those few look different than they did only weeks ago. Their eyes gleam with hope for the first time in years, and it stirs an unusual twinge in my chest. Perhaps remaining on Earth isn’t only about me. It will be good for my people as well.

My garden welcomes me, angled beams of morning sunlight painting the flowers with swaths of blazing color. The combined perfume of the various blooms is one of the most fragrant scents I’ve ever experienced, topped only by…

I jerk to a halt, the sweet smell of Hannah’s skin filling my mind so strongly that I take a deep breath. Alas, it’s only a memory.

My shadows stir restlessly under my skin, making my tattoos dance. I set them free and spring into the air as my wings unfurl, speeding me toward town.

Toward her, my enchanting little witch.

The trees of the forest call to me, and I dip low until my hands brush over the highest leaves. I send tiny pulses of magic into them, healing small hurts, strengthening branches and roots. Each use of my power not only aids the trees, it also binds this land to me, strengthening my claim. By the time my year-long marriage ends, no power in the realms will be able to banish me from this part of Earth.

Growing up in a half-dead realm, I never imagined there could be trees such as this. It wasn’t until I visited Alarria and its vibrant forests a couple of months ago that I finally realized the full extent of what the Dark God had stolen from us. From me.

So when the orcs and humans banded together to defeat him, I fought on their side instead of his, freeing the shadow fae from his control. We forge a new future now, one filled with life instead of war.

I land at the edge of the forest, marveling again at how it borders downtown instead of being covered by human houses, as if this entire area has always been meant for the fae. Pulling my shadows back into my tattoos, I stride onto Main Street, determined to spend my first piece of gold sampling human bread.

Instead of finding any sort of open breakfast eatery, I walk past one closed shop after another. My stomach growls a hungry demand. How can this place call itself a town if there’s no bakery? It’s a travesty!

Visions of buttery rolls dance in my head, taunting me. It turns out being a conquering king had perks I never realized—like the brownie bakers pressed into service in the palace kitchens. It was wrong to keep them like that, but goddess, I miss that perfect bread…

I turn at the end of the street and make my way up the other side of the green, with no better luck.

This will not do. This will not do at all.

It seems Hannah did not lie—Ferndale Falls does indeed need new businesses if I’m to enjoy my stay here. And it sure as fuck needs a bakery.

I leap into the air and streak back to the palace, flying so quickly that wind whistles in my ears.

“Varyn!” I bellow as soon as I step into the grand foyer. His name echoes off the gleaming white marble and bounces outward in all the connecting rooms and corridors.

“What?” an irritated voice calls from a distance.

I glare at the opening to the hallway that leads off the second-floor balcony until he comes into view, his long silver hair sleep-mussed, his shirt hanging from one shoulder.

“Where are you on finding businesses for Ferndale Falls?”

“You mean the thing I only learned about yesterday?” he says, his tone sardonic. “Fae aren’t that interested in uprooting themselves and moving realms, especially since the humans expect rent and fees.”

“Tell the fae I’ll cover the start-up costs,” I growl. “Now get me some businesses.”

“I have a lead on a leatherworker.”

“That can wait.” I scowl and chop a hand through the air. “Focus on eateries. We need them immediately, unless you plan to work the palace kitchens yourself.”

“Fine, yes. You’ve made your point.” He snorts and shrugs his shirt over his shoulders. “I’ll go now.”

“Prioritize a bakery!” I yell at his retreating back.

An hour later, I wait beside a rock formation covered with crystals. Trees ring the small clearing, and the sound of the waterfall joins with that of wind-rustled leaves to create a pleasing whole. I can see why the humans chose to put the door to Faerie here, since it feels secretive while only being a short walk from town.

The first person to step through the door is a cat sith, padding on all fours in their feline form. Long black fur shades to gray at the tips, swirling in the breeze and making the big cat hard to see, even though they stand as tall as a wolf. Green eyes dance with mischief as they grin a too-wide grin.

“Well, well. I had to see it for myself,” a masculine voice says. “The fae king arranging bakeries and pubs. I hear you’re even willing to pay all the start-up costs. My, how the mighty have fallen.”

“Name yourself, cat,” I snarl.

“Tsk. Is that any way to talk to someone you want to work for you?” He bares even more of his teeth and shifts into his fae form. He’s tall and well muscled, with skin as pale as mine and long hair that shades from black to silver-tipped. The shift has left him completely naked. “I’m Shadow.”

“I’m King Severin.” I fight back my sneer, annoyed that I’ve let him rile me. Our stories make it clear that cat sith are infamously jesting to the point of irritation, but I’ve had little contact with them until now. “Which are you, a baker or pubkeeper?”

“Neither.”

“So what good are you to me?”

He shifts again, this time to his dual form, an upright, fur-covered cat. It’s his most formidable form, even more heavily muscled than his fae form. The werepanther leans a shoulder against a tree and stares at his hand in fascination, making his wicked claws extend and retract repeatedly. “I can act as your messenger in Alarria. I know my way around, and people know me.”

Alarria’s the world where orcs and other fae lived for hundreds of years without the threat of the Dark God. It has replaced Avalon, my home, as the premiere realm of Faerie. Even worse, shadow fae are not welcome there. I told Varyn to use glamours and illusions to sneak in, but the feline fae is right. I hate it, but if I want to attract the fae of Alarria, I could use Shadow’s help.

That doesn’t mean I’m going to make it easy for him. “You? You’ll be too slow.” I snort. “You can’t fly.”

“You’ve forgotten what cat sith can do.” His claws retract with a snick, and he takes a step to the left and disappears, only to reappear immediately on the other side of the clearing. “We alone walk the hidden shadow roads. In only a handful of hours, I can cross distances that would take others days. I’m as fast as you, if not faster.”

“I’ve heard the stories.” I considered them exaggerations, but perhaps not. “Fine. I will pay for your services.”

He shifts back into his fae form, and his green eyes gleam as he extends a hand. “Two gold coins a day.”

“That’s outrageous.” Or at least I assume it is, having no real feel for what the currency is worth. “Besides, paying you in that fashion rewards sloth, since you’ll make more if you dally. I require speed. Instead of a daily rate, I’ll pay you a coin for every business lead you bring me.”

“Two for each lead.”

“One gold piece for each lead when you bring them to me and a second for each that creates a viable business in Ferndale Falls.”

“Agreed.”

The werepanther’s wide grin tells me I’m overpaying, but I don’t care. After a rather dismal porridge for breakfast, I’ll give almost anything to get a proper bakery up and running. Once you’ve had the perfection that is bread baked by a brownie, nothing less will do. None of the diminutive fae will agree to work for me directly, but if I acquire a baker for the town, they’ll have to sell me their goods. If not, I’ll bribe someone to buy bread for me.

Speaking of bribery, I say, “Get me a brownie baker, and I’ll triple your fee.” It feels wrong to pay for the things I used to force people to do, but I suppose I’ll have to get used to it now that I’m “good.”

As Shadow disappears back through the door to Faerie, I remember all of this has an additional reward. I picture the expression on Hannah’s face when I bring these new businesses to her town. She’ll smile at me, her eyes warm with approval.

I find myself as greedy for her look of appreciation as I am for excellent bread.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Hannah

Armed with a ginormous travel mug of coffee, I hurry down Main Street the next morning, squinting against the bright colors of all the shop fronts. I’m not completely hung over—Autumn’s cocktails are purposefully lighter on liquor and heavier on cereal milk than traditional drinks—but I’m bleary enough to wish I could have pounded the alarm quiet and burrowed back into my snuggly bed.

No such luck. Instead, I went to the office early and finished up a bunch of paperwork so that I’d have free time to get Naomi’s help with my magic.

There’s one thing I need to try first. I pull out my phone and make a call. “Hi, Mom.”

“Sweetheart! Have you made me a grandbaby yet?”

I wince. Why does she start every conversation with that? “Nope, not yet.”

“Do you need any tips? I read a new one. If you lie on your back and prop your butt up on pillows, gravity helps hold the semen in.”

Oh, god. Oh, god. Here it comes. I die inside every time she says the next part.

“Of course, when your father and I were trying for you, we had sex several times each day. Did I tell you I think you were conceived the time we did it with me sitting on top of the washing machine?”

Yes, too many times, but I keep my mouth shut, because any interruption only makes this part of the conversation take even longer.

“The movement added a lot of vibrations, which I think helped. All the experts say female orgasm aids conception. You are having orgasms, right? Do you have a boyfriend yet? Does he need any tips?”

“I’ve started seeing someone, but no tips needed.” It comes out strangled as I try to fight down a hysterical giggle at the thought of Mom giving Severin sex tips. Oh, god! I can only imagine the look on his face!

Her excited shriek hits a high note that goes past the edge of human hearing. I’m surprised it doesn’t make the neighborhood dogs start to howl.

Her joy makes it excruciating for me to tell her about Severin, and it’ll only get worse once I tell her we’re engaged. Maybe I should be glad I’m not allowed to tell her the engagement is fake. It would break her heart.

When she finally stops speaking in delighted squeals, I bring up what I called to talk about. “So, Mom, are there any old family stories about us being witches?”

“Not that I can recall, dear.”

“What about Dad’s family?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure. Why?”

“Oh, Severin’s family believes in magic.” Not a lie. “We were talking about it. I wanted us to have that in common.” Total lie, but one that should—

“I’ll look into it immediately!”

Yep, that worked. I just gave Mom the best reason possible to dig into both sides of my family tree. If there’s anything to be found, she’ll find it. “Text me if you find something! I’ve got to go. I’m meeting Naomi.”

An excited yip comes from the green, and Finn runs out of a large patch of ferns he must have been crouching in, because I sure didn’t see his bright-orange coat until now. He trots up to me, then lets out a jaw-cracking yawn, his pink tongue curling with the force of it.

It’s cute as hell, but when I say as much, he shoots me some fox side-eye and says, “Have you ever considered being nocturnal? It’s a much more reasonable way to live.”

“Sorry, bud,” I say. “My job’s pretty nine-to-five, or more like seven-to-seven some days, but still, it’s daylight hours.”

“Foolish humans,” he mutters, then says, “Where are we going?”

“To talk to my friend, Naomi. She’s a witch.”

His ears prick up. “Does she have a familiar?”

“Not that I know of, but she is friends with a talking unicorn.”

“Unicorns aren’t real,” he says, his tone dismissive.

“They are. They’re a type of fae shifter.” I take another swig of coffee. “I’ve met one.”

“Humph.”

The sign hanging in the large glass window of I Touch My Shelf has been flipped to “Open,” so I’ve timed things perfectly. The wooden door swings inward on an empty shop. Naomi’s probably in the back, packing internet orders. It’s how she’s kept the shop afloat now that fewer tourists visit town.

I open my mouth to call a hello, then snap it shut. Oh, god. How am I supposed to tell her about fake marrying Severin? I’ve been saving her as my third person to tell, but she’s so deliriously in love with her orc husband that I’m not sure she’ll understand a marriage of convenience.

Finn circles the store, nose to the ground, then his body tenses, his paw darting under one of the couches to pull out a brightly colored crunch berry. He snaps it up, munching the crisp cereal with relish. He shoves his head back under the couch, his tail a jaunty flag. “That’s good. Are there more of those?”

“Boy, I sure hope not.” I cleaned up after the Witch Bitch Spicy Book Club meeting but must have missed a few. Next time, I’ll just bring Finn, and he can clean up all the dropped bits of cereal. Then I remember something. “Hey, don’t eat the dark-brown ones! Chocolate is toxic for animals!” Or at least it is for cats and dogs, so I’m going to assume it’s bad for foxes as well.

“Hello?” Naomi calls out, and the door to the backroom opens. “Hannah!”

My bestie’s beautiful brown face breaks into a huge smile, and she rushes forward to wrap me in one of her signature hugs, all enthusiasm and soft curves. In junior high, we both had a hot moment where we each envied the other—she wanted my height, and I wanted her generous butt and boobs—but we got over it. We’re both awesome exactly as we are.

She pulls back to beam up at me. “I got your text. You had a meeting in the shop last night?”

“Yeah, I hope it’s okay.” I give her a sheepish smile.

“Of course it is.” Naomi heads for the sofas, her thick brown curls bouncing with every step. She’s dressed in orc clothes, a pink tunic top embroidered with flowers and brown leather pants and boots, everything custom made to fit perfectly. Nobody in town seems to have noticed. Then again, there are lots of people like Autumn who do the whole boho-chic look, so Naomi fits right in. “Now, what’s all of this about magic and fae? Has something happened?”

A memory flashes through my mind—Severin winging through the sky like a fallen angel come to tempt humans to sin.

“You can say that again!” I take a seat beside her and turn to face her, pulling my bent leg up onto the cushion. “Fae are coming to Ferndale Falls. There’s something like a big butterfly that glows bright blue.”

“Those are pixies!” She chuckles and shakes her head. “Little rottens. We should have known they’d find a way to come through on their own. One of the human witches introduced them to pizza, and they’re so obsessed they call Earth ‘Pizza World.’”

“Pizza World?” I laugh, then sober as my ongoing worry about Ferndale Falls’s future rears its ugly head. “It’s too bad the town’s pizzeria closed down, or we could have gotten them some pizza.”

Naomi gives a sad grimace.

“But I might finally have a solution! It turns out pixies aren’t the only kind of fae that have visited. King Severin of the shadow fae dropped in on yesterday’s town meeting. Literally.” I flap my hands like wings.

“Severin! Damn! He’s the last fae I want here on Earth, or almost the last.”

“What? Why?”

“The shadow fae are dangerous. They waged war against the rest of Faerie while under the control of the Dark God.” She puts on her super serious, I-don’t-take-any-shit expression. “His people wiped out all the orcs in Avalon, including Wranth’s parents.”

Oh, god. My stomach twists. I knew Naomi’s husband was an orphan but not why. And this guy I agreed to marry is one of these shadow fae! Might have been a bit hasty. But that’s me—I see something and stampede toward it.

“Severin did that?” I ask.

“Not him personally. He would have been a baby.”

“You say you met him. Did he hurt anyone?” I’m not sure I can accept it if he did.

“No. Not really. He actually ended up helping us defeat the Dark God.” She lets out a huff. “But that’s not the point. The point is you can’t trust him. Shadow fae are manipulative and excellent liars.”

I swallow. At least he didn’t hurt anyone. “Maybe he’s not all bad. He put a protective bubble of magic around the town to keep us safe. Only witches and people accepting of magic will see any of the wacky stuff going on here. And he even says he’ll get new businesses and customers for us!”

“That sounds great and all, but there’s no way he’s doing all of this out of the goodness of his heart.”

“No, you’re right.” I take a big swig of coffee to give myself an extra moment to prepare, then blurt, “He needs a wife.”

“A what?” she shrieks.

I give her a sheepish grin.

“And this ‘wife’ is you?” Naomi points at me.

“Yep.”

“Argh!” She throws up her hands. “I love you like a sister, Hannah, but for god’s sake, you have to get over this self-sacrificing stuff.”

“Hey.” Hurt threads through me. “That’s not fair!”

“Isn’t it?” she says. “You’ve already given years to this town, and now you’re going to marry a stranger? It’s too much!”

“It’s a fake marriage! And it’s totally worth it. I’ve wanted to be mayor since I was a little kid. I worked for it all through high school and college. It’s not just a job for me—it’s who I am. And I want to be good at it. I want to help this town and everyone who calls it home.”

“Is that your dream or your father’s?” Naomi’s eyes search my face, and she grips my hand to tell me she knows she’s asking a difficult question.

“No. It’s got nothing to do with Dad.” As a senator, he’s happy I went into politics. But he’s always trying to push me to run for higher-level positions, saying more power means helping more people. My job as mayor is definitely not what he wants.

“It’s my dream because of Nan,” I say. Once Dad got elected to higher office, my parents lived in the capital for parts of each year. I stayed with my grandmother during those times to remain in the same school, and I loved it. Nan was the best. She passed a couple of years ago, peacefully sitting in the sun in her back garden, but her spirit lives on. “Ferndale Falls is not just where I live. Being here feels like all the warmth and love of one of Nan’s hugs. It’s all the happy memories I have wrapped up in one place. My grandmother loved this town.”

“Super loved it.” Naomi gives a soft smile. “I think her famous oatmeal chocolate chip cookies were half the reason anyone went to the town meetings when we were little.”

A huff of amusement escapes me at the memory. “They sure didn’t hurt. I wish I could make them as well as her. Maybe more people would come to the meetings.”

“Stop.” She wiggles my hand. “You’re already running yourself ragged for Ferndale Falls. And now you’re talking about marrying a shadow fae!”

“Fake marrying! It’s totally different!”

“You do know I run a bookstore, right?” She narrows her eyes and lets go of my hand to wave hers around. “I’ve got an entire section of marriage-of-convenience romance books, and you know what almost every single one of them has in it? The couple falls in love.”

“You said almost,” I say. “What happens in the other books? They become besties and agree to both shag the pool boy?”

“Hardly.” She starts counting things with her fingers. “She either gets stolen away by an enemy and falls in love with him, or she gets rescued by her childhood sweetheart and falls in love with him, or she falls in love with one of the staff and runs away with him.”

“Ha! I knew there was a pool boy.” I point at her. “But seriously, those are books, and this is real life. I can fake marry him for a year and a day without falling in love. It’ll be totally worth it! Ferndale Falls will prosper again and be protected from anyone who can’t handle all the magic and fae.”

“It sounds too good to be true.” Naomi shakes her head. “You know what they say about Faerie bargains—it’s always the human who gets screwed.”

“He’s getting something out of it, too. Severin doesn’t want to marry a fae. Politics or something.” I wave a hand. “The marriage also means his palace can stay here on Earth. He really likes our forest. Did you see how pretty the town green is now? That was him.”

“He brought his palace to Earth?” My friend’s eyes widen. “Damn. I knew the shadow fae wanted to find a new realm to live in, since theirs is a wasteland right now, but I never thought it would be Earth. The fae always say magic’s too weak here.”

“Severin’s magic sure as hell works. Maybe he’s super powerful or something. Although, I think the magic here is getting stronger every day. We have walking tulips now!” I make a scurrying motion with two fingers. “They run around on little root feet.”

“Severin did that?”

I shake my head. “One of the other women who are witches, but we don’t know who. That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about.” I fill her in on how only some people can see magic and how we used that to figure out a bunch of us might be witches. It’s not super surprising for her—she was there when that fae said Ferndale Falls has witches. “None of us know how to use magic, though. We had a meeting here last night to talk about it. I hoped you’d be able to help us, and I need to start with me.”

Naomi pulls her crystal necklace from under her top and holds the pendant out to me. “Grab this and see if you feel anything.”

I do as she says, scrunching my eyes closed and straining for long moments. Then I drop my hand, letting out a disappointed breath. “Nothing. I really hoped this would work. I need to know my magic right freaking now.”

“Why?” She narrows her eyes at me. “What haven’t you told me?”

“So about marrying Severin… I only get to do it if I pass one of these magical bride competition thingies the shadow fae do.”

“What?” she shrieks.

I jolt. Thank god I’ve got a travel mug, because otherwise I would have splattered both of us with hot coffee. “It’s not that bad! I just need to win one of the three events, and then he can pick me!”

“Are they dangerous?”

“He says no, they’re just magical.” I pull out the invitation and hand it to her.

Her lips purse as she reads. “Are you sure about this?”

“Totally sure.” Okay, not really, but I’m determined to make it work.

“I’m going with you to these trials. It says you need a representative, so that can be me.” She levels a finger at me. “At the first sign of trouble, I’m teleporting you out.”

I hold up my hands. “Zero arguments here.”

Naomi jumps up, heads into the backroom, and returns with an armful of books. “I started ordering books on magic and witchcraft a while back.”

I pull out my phone and text Skye and Autumn. If you’ve got time, I’m at I Touch My Shelf researching books on magic.

Books!!! Magic! Skye adds five eye-heart emojis. Say less!

On my way! Autumn writes.

I grin and crack open the first book, feeling relieved. With besties like these, how can I fail?

CHAPTER NINE

Severin

Less than an hour later, Shadow steps through the door from Faerie in his fae form, naked again.

He’s followed by…

“You must be joking,” I mutter.

A flock of pixies flies into the clearing in a flutter of bright-blue. The sunlight mutes some of their usual glow, so evident at night, but each miniscule fae still looks as if they swallowed a magical candle that lights them from within. They wear clothing made out of blue leaves, matching their blue skin, hair, and moth wings. Their attire reminds me that blue birch no longer exists in Avalon, another loss to the Dark God, and I vow then and there to bring the magical trees back to my home.

“What’s this?” I arch an eyebrow.

“Your first lead,” Shadow says. “They want to open a pizza place.”

“Pizza!” The pixies echo in a high chorus of shrieks, the flock swirling through the air in a complicated dance of excitement.

A scowl tugs at my lips. I despise not knowing things. “What is pizza?”

“The best food ever!” a tiny voice cries as a diminutive woman darts over to flutter in front of my face. “It’s round and flat and delicious!”

“That description could refer to almost anything. What makes pizza so special?”

“Pizza is the best!” the pixie leader says.

“Pizza!” the rest of them scream.

“There’s even sweet pizza!”

As the others repeat their now-familiar cheer, Shadow says, “The humans call those waffles. They’re pretty good for breakfast. Regular pizza is savory and good for lunch or dinner.”

“There’s no such thing as ‘regular’ pizza!” the pixie cries. “All pizza is special! There’s pizza and potato pizza and sweet pizza and egg pi—”

“You cannot be serious.” I glare at the werepanther. “Ferndale Falls needs a bakery, not a pizza eatery.”

“The rumors are true! You really are a meanie!” The pixie shakes her finger at me, her scowl as fierce as any of mine but so tiny it softens the menace. “No one should live without pizza! That’s evil!”

“Humans love pizza.” Shadow shrugs, setting his long, silver-tipped hair swirling. “They’re the ones who invented it. It’ll be a good eatery for the town.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Goddess, this isn’t what I want. Who does a man have to maim to get a decent roll of bread?

“Look at it this way.” Shadow grins. “Your people were historically horrible to pixies. You owe them one.”

“We employed them,” I snarl.

“You trapped us in lanterns,” the little leader shrieks, her wings moving so quickly in agitation they blur. “All the stories say so!”

“You make excellent lights.”

“You take that back!” A tiny sword appears in her hand, the silver blade glinting in the sunlight. Her flock bristles behind her, sparkling as they brandish their weapons.

My shadows writhe under my skin, and I grimace as I fight to contain them.

“My, my, you certainly do have a way with people.” The werepanther steps between us, his too-wide grin flashing an impressive set of teeth—and fangs. “Look. You both have something the other wants. The pixies want to open a pizza place, and King Severin can make that happen. Severin needs businesses for Ferndale Falls, and letting the pixies successfully set up shop will show other fae that he can be trusted.”

My teeth grind together as I turn over his words again and again. Yet no matter how hard I search, I can’t find a flaw in his logic. It’s damned annoying.

“Fine. You can open a pizza eatery, though I don’t see how you’re going to do it. Pixies don’t have food magic.” Not like brownies do.

“We’ll hire humans.” Her sword disappears as she darts across the clearing, heading for town. “We already know the ones. We’ve been scouting for days!”

Shadow starts after them, shamelessly naked.

“You can’t go into town like that,” I snap.

“I thought you had protective magic up to hide anything fae from the humans.”

“We have protective magic to hide anything magical.” I snort. “Trust me, your cock doesn’t qualify.”

“Please. I have a magnificent cock.” He throws his arms wide. “If any humans see me, it’ll be the highlight of their day.”

Instead of answering, I shoot a bolt of magic at him, clothing him in a cotton shirt and leather pants and boots.

“I can work with this.” He glances down at himself. “I make anything look good.”

I roll my eyes and leap into the air, following the glow of the pixie flock into town.

A half hour later, I find myself standing on Main Street with a couple of my best conjurers while the pixies lead us to the storefront they want.

“This one!” The leader flutters up to the door of a closed café, the windows dusty and dark, the colorful siding sun-faded to a soft blue.

My shadows unfurl, sliding into the lock and opening it. With a wave of my hand, the door swings inward.

The flock pours inside, their combined glow lighting the interior and proving me right—they are indeed excellent light sources.

I barely refrain from saying as much as I weave between square wooden tables with upturned chairs resting on their tops. The stale smell of dust makes my nose itch. I could be rampaging across a battlefield instead of this. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

“My people will refurbish as you see fit, and I will pay your initial rent,” I say. “But after that, it will be up to you to run your business successfully. Do you have the funds to do so?”

The leader pipes a high whistle of pixie speech not slowed down for my benefit, then says, “We do.”

All around her, each member of the flock pulls out a gold piece from that secret place they store things. The coins look massive in their diminutive arms, weighing enough to pull each pixie toward the ground as their wings strain against the sudden increase in mass.

“Very well.” I turn to my conjurers and nod.

They lift their hands, and magic blasts outward in an explosion of power. It’s a spell of rejuvenation, restoring everything to its original, pristine state. All of the furniture gleams, the finish restored to show off the lovely wood grain. The walls glow with fresh color, becoming the rich gold of a warm sunset. Human lights flicker on overhead, burning with a steady brightness no candle can match.

We move into the kitchen, and another pulse of rejuvenation magic sweeps across the room, leaving behind sparkling countertops and cupboards and restoring all of the human machinery to brand new. Several large metal boxes begin to hum, and Shadow opens the door of one to release a blast of cold air. I run my fingers across the steel surface, detecting no ice-fae magic. It seems humans really did develop some interesting abilities over the past few centuries.

“Now the outside!” The pixies dart back through the dining room. “We want a sign.”

With one additional expenditure of magic, the building’s wooden siding becomes as blue as a summer sky, the fanciful trim a vibrant purple. A sign appears, letters scrolling across its surface as if painted by an invisible hand: Slice of Life.

The pixies cheer and swarm around the sign, like moths pulled to a lantern, but I frown, unable to puzzle its meaning.

“What’s going on?” Hannah calls out.

I spin to find her hurrying toward us across the green. Even human clothing can’t hide how tall and graceful she is, and I have the sudden desire to see her swathed in the lightest of Faerie silks instead, gossamer layers floating around her, offering teasing glimpses of skin.

When she nears the edge of the green, a fox runs out from beneath one of the rhododendrons I conjured yesterday, keeping pace beside her as she crosses the street.

She comes to a stop in front of me, her eyes glued to the building at my back. “What? How? It looks new!”

“My betrothed. It’s so very good to see you.” I step close to press a kiss to her cheek. When she startles with surprise, I clasp her to me to hold her still and cast a quick cloak of silence spell. “Remember, my dear. We need to pretend our betrothal is real.”

“So we need to pretend we’re in love every time we’re in public?” Hannah looks up at me. Her eyes are even more beautiful up close, flecks of gold and radiating lines of black adding a lovely complexity to their rich brown.

“Will that be an issue?” I raise an eyebrow.

She shakes her head, the quick movement brushing her silky hair across the edge of my jaw. “Nope. No prob. I can totally do that.”

“Excellent.” I dismiss the silencing spell and release her to turn toward the building. “I have found the first new business for you, as I promised. It will serve pizza.”

“Pizza!” the pixies shriek, diving from the sign.

Hannah’s eyes go wide.

The fox chuffs and barks, flicking his tail so the bushy white tip waves like a flag.

“Of course I’ll ask,” she says to it, then looks at me. “Are those pixies?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been seeing them for days! Or, okay, not seeing them, seeing them. They keep zipping past me and disappearing out of sight. I worried I was hallucinating!”

I scowl at the little menaces. “Were you toying with a future queen of Faerie?”

“Queen?” The lead pixie’s expression goes cunning. “How can she be queen? All of the orc kings are wed.”

Such impudence! My tattoos flow across my skin, leaking shadows into the air as I growl, “She’ll be my queen.”

“Hey, it’s no big deal.” Hannah raises her hands and pats at the air, her tone conciliatory. “They didn’t hurt me or anything. It was just a few pranks. The worst thing that happened was I almost dropped some cookies.”

The fox dances at her feet, yipping up at her.

“No,” she tells the animal. “You couldn’t have had them even if I dropped them. They contained chocolate. I’ll get you your own cookies.”

“You’ve bonded to the animal,” I say, recalling the old stories of witches. “He’s your familiar.”

The fox gives a little bark and growl and glares at me. It has a surprisingly effective glare, and I should know, since my warrior days have left me with a rather impressive array of glares and scowls.

Hannah laughs. “Finn says he’s not my familiar. I’m his witch.”

Whatever they choose to call it, it’s an excellent sign. Only strong witches have familiars. Hannah will have no problem winning one of the bride trials.

She turns back to the eatery. “Slice of Life. What a great name for a pizzeria! I love it.”

I have no idea why it’s such a good name but will never admit as much. That’s one of the first things you learn about being a king of Faerie—never show weakness.

“The human witches of Alarria helped us with the name,” the pixie leader says. “We consulted with the great Pizza herself.”

Hannah shoots me a puzzled glance, and I shrug, as clueless as she. It’s Shadow who says, “That’s the witch who can conjure food. The pixies named her Pizza as an honorary title.”

“This is amazing, and the town certainly needs a pizza place.” She waves toward the revitalized storefront.

Shadow smirks an I-told-you-so smirk, his grin widening to an impossible extent.

I ignore him.

“But we have to do paperwork,” she says. “The building needs to be officially rented from the town.”

“You pay start-up costs! You promised.” The head pixie jabs a finger toward me. “We must go and hire the humans who will make pizza!” the leader pipes in her high voice, then lets out a long series of whistles. The flock splits in two, each streaking off in slightly different directions.

Finn races after the second group and leaps into the air, jaws snapping shut only an inch shy of a lagging pixie. The diminutive imp whistles like an angry tea kettle and dives for the fox, tugging on an ear. The others join in, making a game of it, the fox yipping happily. The mass of them moves across the town green, an orange streak of fur surrounded by a tiny tornado of glowing blue. The roving herd of tulips scampers over, adding to the chase.

Hannah’s eyes track them until they zip out of sight, a smile tugging at her lips.

I want her to look at me like that. Pulling out my coin purse, I pluck out several gold coins. “How much will rent be for these first two weeks?”

“Are those real?” Her eyes widen as she presses the tip of one finger to a coin, stroking over the likeness pressed into the metal, my likeness.

“Very real and very pure.”

Hannah smiles at me like the rising sun cresting the horizon, lighting up the world with warmth.

Even though I just told her we need to pretend to a real affection, her reaction feels completely sincere.

Longing aches in my chest with a new feeling I can’t name but am already addicted to. Fuck me. Our arrangement is fake. She’s supposed to be the human I use for my own ends, nothing more.

Yet as I bask in her admiration, one thing becomes amazingly clear.

I’ll do anything to have her look at me like this again.

CHAPTER TEN

Hannah

I’m floating on clouds as I emerge from the bank later that afternoon. It doesn’t even matter that all of this morning’s witchy research turned up nothing that helped with my magic. In the past few hours, Severin has brought two more businesses to Ferndale Falls. First, a jewelry and precious gemstone store called Bling It On run by gnomes, and then a florist run by wood nymphs called Oopsy Daisy. Like the pixies, they got the names from the witches in Alarria, and I bet my friend Naomi played a big part in it, since she recently renamed her bookshop I Touch My Shelf.

Severin also had his shadow fae completely renovate each of the buildings, including the apartments of their second floors, once I mentioned them. In the blink of an eye, those apartments went from dingy and broken-down to bright open spaces made all the more beautiful by the perfectly restored hardwood floors. Downtown hasn’t looked this good in years!

“You are my new human-business liaison.” Severin hands his entire stack of papers, cash, and cards to the fae who magicked up all his paperwork. “You will get a job at the bank and handle all of the business forms and transactions for the fae.”

“My king.” The woman bows, and when she straightens, I pluck Severin’s new driver’s license, bank card, and a hundred dollars of cash from the pile.

His driver’s license is just as amusing as the rest of the paperwork, since it gives his name as “King Severin” and his address as “The Shadow Fae Palace, Ferndale Falls.” The license number is just a bunch of zeroes ending in the number one, and so is his social security number, for god’s sake! When I teased Severin about it, he gave me one of his superior smirks and said of course he’s “number one.”

Instead of calling him out for shenanigans, the bank clerk accepted all his information without batting an eye, and I have a feeling when I look Severin up in the city’s records, his nonsense address will be there. Magic is even more amazing than I ever expected!

“You should keep these with you,” I say, pressing the cards and money into his hand.

His fingers curl around mine, and his green eyes watch me with an intoxicating intensity. “Are you happy, my betrothed?”

The butterflies in my tummy take flight. Fake, I whisper to myself. Remember all of this is fake.

His thumb slides back and forth over my knuckles, sending tingles racing through me. Instead of calming, the butterflies down espresso shots, careening around like an excited flock of pixies.

“I am.” In only one day, he’s put more money into the town’s bank account than I ever imagined getting out of this entire deal. If he gets a few more businesses going and brings in the customers he promised, sales tax and rents will continue to roll in. Everything I’ve worked so hard for will finally come true, and Ferndale Falls will be saved. We won’t have to close any more municipal services due to lack of funds, and I can even look into starting the after-school program the elementary teachers want!

“Then let’s go and frequent one of our new triumphs.” Severin dismisses his attendants, tucks my hand into the crook of his arm, and escorts me back down Main Street. He stops in front of the bright-yellow front of Bling It On, and the bell above the door gives a happy chime as he pulls me inside.

The most beautiful jewelry fills the glass cases, the stones larger and more richly colored than any I’ve ever seen. Instead of the typical display stands humans use, everything here is natural. Gleaming gold and silver necklaces drape over huge crystals and natural geodes. Pairs of earrings dot tiny bonsai trees like precious fruit. And trays of velvety moss hold rings, face up.

Two-foot tall gnomes wheel through the place in a swirl of light-green skin and bright-white hair, no matter their age. They’re all dressed in adorable patchwork clothes made from green, brown, and blue leaves, and wear little hats made of clumps of bright-green moss.

A female gnome somersaults over to us, coming to a halt on tiptoes, arms flung wide like a gymnast sticking the landing. Gnomes, as I found out earlier today, seem to be allergic to anything as simple as walking. “Welcome to Bling It On. You may call me Diamond. How may I assist you?”

“We require an engagement ring,” Severin says.

I startle and gape up at him. Do what now?

“I apologize for being remiss in getting you a ring, my betrothed.” He picks up my left hand and presses a kiss to my ring finger. “I’m still learning your human traditions.”

Ohhh. The bank clerk asked to see my engagement ring, and I said I didn’t have one. That must be what he’s referring to.

“It’s not necessary,” I say. Because this is all fake.

“Of course it’s necessary,” he growls. “You will wear my ring. All will know you are mine.”

The possessiveness in his voice sends the butterflies into another tizzy. Hoo, boy. He’s good at the acting thing. That sounded real.

“We have some lovely rings right over here.” Diamond cartwheels across the floor to come to a halt in front of one of the glass cases. The rings inside are lovely. Gnomes, it seems, don’t go in for super fancy settings, but they don’t need to. The diamonds gleam and sparkle with unmatched clarity, and the colors of the emeralds, sapphires, and rubies are so rich that ornamentation would only take away from their beauty.

“Oh, that one.” I point. Then another and another catch my eye. “No, wait. That one!” I’m like a child on Christmas morning told I only get to open one of the pretty packages waiting under the tree. There are so many wonderful possibilities I have zero idea how I’ll ever decide.

Severin’s less easily impressed. “None of these will do. I require a ring fit for a queen.”

“Of course.” A pleased glint enters the gnome’s clever eyes. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I’ll fetch our premiere collection from our underground vault.”

She springs forward and hand walks behind the counter toward the back corner of the shop to where there’s a large rectangle cut out of the floor. Diamond jumps into the dirt, disappearing from view as easily as a diver slicing into water. The only sign of her passage is the little moss cap sitting where she entered.

“Did they cut a freaking hole in the floor?” I whisper-hiss to Severin, my eyes flicking toward the other gnomes in the shop. “That’s property damage!”

“I’ll cover any damages,” he says. “Besides, it’s necessary for gnomes to have access to the ground. Watch.”

After a minute, the moss shivers, and the gnome spins up into view, the green plant back in place on her head as a hat. Diamond tosses a lovely wooden box to one of the other gnomes, tumbles over to the back of a display case, and bounces up a small series of steps to stand on a little platform that puts her at waist-height to the top of the case. Her colleague lobs the box back to her, and she opens it to display—

“Oh. My. Freaking. God,” I breathe as my eyes do their best to pop out of my head like a cartoon character sighting their lady love.

All of the jewelry in the store is beautiful, but the rings in this box are works of art. And the stones! The stones are utterly massive. Each one looks like it could inspire a heist movie, and when put together, I feel a little lightheaded just looking at them.

I open my mouth, ready to say they’re all too much and I’ll take one of the ones from the regular case, when Severin reaches out and plucks the most exquisite ring from its mossy bed. “This one.”

It’s a large princess-cut diamond that’s as wide as my ring finger. There are no other stones, but the ring’s far from plain, because the carved gold band looks like the stem of a flower that curls back on itself, the petals of the bloom opening to disclose the diamond at its heart.

Severin slips it onto my ring finger, where it’s a little loose. Then the gnome touches the band, and in a tingle of magic, it shrinks to the perfect fit.

I stare down at my left hand, feeling the weight of the ring. I never knew a ring could be heavy. Then again, I’ve never owned a ring big enough to be seen from outer space before. This thing probably creates its own gravity well—it sure has sucked me in.

When Diamond names the price, Severin pulls out ten gold coins.

I gulp. Our little stint in the bank means I now know each is worth several thousand dollars. God, I love this ring, but I make words wheeze out of my reluctant throat in a faint whine, “It’s too much.”

Severin’s attention snaps to me. “Do you like it?”

“I do.” But none of this is supposed to be about me getting money and gifts. It’s supposed to be about helping Ferndale Falls.

“Then it’s well worth the cost.” He lifts my left hand to press a kiss to my knuckle right below his ring. “It’s not nearly as precious as you, my bride.”

My butterflies take flight.

“Come.” He offers me his elbow and leads me back outside to where a small crowd waits on the green.

Skye gives me a little wave, having come out of the library.

“Why are all these people here?” I whisper-hiss out the side of my mouth.

“I arranged it, of course.”

Of course. It’s more proof he’s a consummate actor, determined to make our engagement look real.

“Thank you all for being here,” Severin says. He lifts my left hand, presenting it on his. “I knew you’d want to see Mayor Wylde’s new ring.”

Even though she’s one of the people who knows it’s all fake, Skye lets out an excited squeal, ever the romantic.

Jared pushes to the front, his phone clicking photos. Ferndale Falls is too small to have a newspaper, but as our resident photographer, he maintains an unofficial town-news website, and I have a feeling I know what the new headline is going to be.

“Now one with a kiss!” Jared says, waving his phone.

Severin’s eyes hold me mesmerized as he leans close.

Is he actually going to kiss me? Oh, no, no, no. I’m not ready. We haven’t practiced. Wait, what am I even thinking? Practice? I hiccup a flustered laugh. Practicing kissing Severin would mean a whole lot of actually kissing Severin. I already feel like I’m going to explode out of my skin—how would I ever survive that?

As he gets closer, my heart leaps, my body locked rigid as flames heat my cheeks. I want to moan in mortification. Ugh. I bet everyone can see I’m not used to his touch.

His lips brush the corner of my mouth. It’s the tiniest caress, but it sends a jolt of electricity shooting through me. The butterflies escape my stomach to fill my whole chest with fluttering as my heart races.

Fake, fake, fake, I chant to myself. This is all totally fake. You can’t forget he’s a really good actor.

As I meet Severin’s intense green eyes, the butterflies completely ignore me, doing loop-de-loops of joy.

Shit. I’m so totally screwed.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Severin

My hands skim the treetops as I fly over the forest, sending pulses of magic into the plants to heal them and to bind me to this land in a claim far more visceral than any deed, though that will prove unnecessary once I marry Hannah.

Her smile fills my mind, brighter than the sunlight dropping toward the western horizon. In all my years, I’ve been looked at with fear or anger or occasionally lust. I’ve never been looked at with adoration. Here I am, undone by one such glance from a pair of beautiful brown eyes.

I set down in the palace garden, right on the small footbridge where I stood with my betrothed. As soon as my shadow wings retract, I send a wave of healing plant magic washing outward like ripples from a pebble dropped into a pond. The flowers rustle with contentment, and I can feel them growing in a joyful hum that resonates back to me.

“Severin.” Varyn strides out of the palace, the evening light catching on his silver-white hair. “I have news.”

“A baker?” This would be the perfect ending to my day.

“What? No.” His footsteps echo on the wood as he comes to a halt beside me. “I’ve got a list of contestants for the bride trials.”

“Tell me.”

“First off, the gnomes from Kranthall sent a contender.”

I grunt. Their realm is mountainous, with them living in large underground cities. It’s better than Avalon, but it doesn’t have forests such as the one around Ferndale Falls.

Yet gnomes also like to establish mines in every realm. “They must desire a political alliance, in order to mine in Avalon,” I say.

“How better than to marry one of their own to its king?” Varyn nods. “The next is a different story. A wood nymph entered the contest.”

“What realm do they hale from?” Because if it’s a magical realm of Faerie that’s still lush with life, it would provide another place to settle if Earth doesn’t work out.

“Alarria.”

“Ah.” There goes that idea. This wood nymph is from the one realm I can’t live in. Earth is still my best hope.

“They’re looking to improve their standing and rise in the ranks of the powerful,” he says. Then Varyn’s face pinches, which means bad news.

“Out with it. Are these all who’ve entered?” Two might be better than nothing, but it’s still a bit of a slap in the face. In times past, there would have been half a dozen. Where are the orcs, the dragons? It’s as telling who hasn’t joined the competition as who has—they don’t trust the shadow fae.

“There’s one more.” He lets out a breath. “Meloria.”

“What? How can this be?” Shock ripples through me. “She’s one of my people. Meloria can’t represent another group of fae!”

“She left over a week ago and travelled the realms until she found one of the dead ones. She claimed it and named herself queen.”

“That’s preposterous! If she wins the bride trials, she’ll doom the shadow fae. We’ll have to leave Earth, and a fully dead realm is worse even than Avalon.”

“I don’t think she cares.” He shrugs. “She’s angry you rejected her.”

When Meloria came to me two weeks ago to propose we marry, I thought it was in jest. We used one another to slake our physical thirsts while under the control of the Dark God but could otherwise barely stand each other. “There was never anything real between us. She’s incapable of any warmer feeling.”

“She’s capable of one.” Varyn’s ice-blue eyes stop dancing with mirth, growing serious. “She’s capable of anger. It turns out Daigan was right. Your little human had better watch her back.”

My jaw hardens. Technically, the trials aren’t dangerous. Also, the contest’s rules forbid me from interfering in any way. Yet the thought of Hannah in danger stirs an unusual protectiveness in me.

Thankfully, shadow fae know how to bend rules. I will do whatever it takes to aid and protect Hannah.

The next evening, the fae contestants and their representatives present themselves to me in a formal reception held in the throne room.

The gnome arrives first, tumbling down the long aisle in a series of cartwheels and flips. She comes to a halt, balanced in front of me on one tiptoe, with her arms and other leg lifted in a perfect arabesque.

Although as short as any of her kind, she’s clearly physically strong, which is the gnomish standard for beauty. Her light-green face is pretty, her white hair topped with a moss cap sprinkled with tiny white flowers, her formal clothes made only of blue birch leaves. The gnomes, it seems, are taking the competition seriously, sending one of their finest.

I tip my head, acknowledging the respect she pays me.

Her representative follows, doing several leaping front rolls to eat the distance without much fuss, or at least as little fuss as a gnome can show. He’s older, with the bottom half of his light-green face covered by a heavy white beard. “King Severin.” He bows, then gestures toward the young woman. “The gnomes of Kranthall present you with your future bride.”

“Rather presumptuous.” I arch an eyebrow.

She lifts her chin. “I do not mean to lose.”

It doesn’t ring true. Gnomes are horrible gossips. There’s no way these two don’t already know about my betrothal, since I bought Hannah’s ring from gnomes. They know I’ll choose Hannah, so this is about something else.

“What is your name?” I ask. It’s a test. Like many of the smaller fae, gnomes do not give their real names lightly. It’s like Diamond at Bling It On—she told us we could call her that name, but she didn’t say it was her real one. This gnome will offer her true name if she truly wants to marry me. If she doesn’t…

“You may call me Ruby.”

Her phrasing makes it clear it’s not her real name. What could they be playing at?

Before I can tease out any answers, the wood nymphs arrive. Tall and slender, the two women move with the grace of majestic trees swaying gently in a breeze. They seem to float down the aisle, their long, willow-leaf hair rippling. Green-leaf clothing sets off their skin, which is the light linen of freshly cut wood.

“King Severin.” The older nymph sinks into a deep curtsy. “The wood nymphs of Alarria present to you Elowen.”

As soon as my eyes turn to the younger woman, she drops into an equally graceful curtsy. “Your Majesty.” She’s a pretty thing, with a long, oval face and an air of haunting sadness about her that probably makes most men long to protect her.

I am, however, not most men. The shadow fae in me sees her display as a weakness. If there’s a sturdy tree trunk under that façade, I can’t see it. Elowen is the kind of woman I could break far too easily.

Still, her coming here means the wood nymphs are ready to be allies, and I cannot offend. I tip my head to her. “Elowen.”

A stir at the doors of the room grabs everyone’s attention. A shadow fae strides into view, a tall male in the first flush of adulthood, with lightly tanned skin and long brown hair. He wears fighting leathers, the vest baring his shadow-tattooed arms. His cocky look of disdain withers beneath my hard stare, and by the time he stops in front of my throne, uncertainty stains his eyes.

Meloria appears, framed by the doors and her shadow wings. Instead of walking down the aisle, she flies, using the faintest movements of her wings to show off her control. Her strength attracted my attention years ago, yet I now know it’s a hard, unyielding strength. One that doesn’t allow for real emotion. A long-term relationship with her would be a hollow thing.

She hovers for a moment before touching down, her long blonde hair floating around her face. Her beautiful features are chiseled with cold perfection, and she wears fighting leathers, every inch the warrior queen.

The youth at her side rallies enough to speak. “King Severin.” He bows. “I present to you Queen Meloria of Markan.”

Markan, the dead realm my ex-lover thinks to damn me to.

Fuck no.

My lips pull back from my teeth in a snarl. “So you not only defect, you also steal young pups from my kennel. How many have you lured to your realm?”

“Don’t be such a poor loser, darling,” Meloria says. “It’s only a handful.”

I make note to have Daigan look into who’s missing from Avalon, expecting a list of more like the young man before me—those easily lured by the promise of her bed.

“If they were foolish enough to follow you, I’ve lost nothing,” I say. “Why are you here?”

“To be queen.”

“Did my ears deceive me? Did your representative not already name you such?”

Anger breaks through the pale-blue ice of her eyes for a flickering second before being hidden again. We both know she’s currently queen of nothing. Then she glances at Ruby and Elowen, her expression dismissive. “I will win.”

I smirk at her, loving the horrified shock that pinches her face when I say, “To do that, you’ll have to best my betrothed.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Hannah

“I can’t believe we found nothing,” I moan, when Naomi teleports the three of us to the front door of Severin’s palace for the first bride trial. “All the research we did yesterday and everyone in the Witch Bitch Spicy Book Club looking, and none of it helped.”

I said a bunch of spells, and the only thing I learned is my Latin pronunciation is horrible.

I mixed up a potion, and the only result was I set off the smoke detector.

I even waved around a magic wand of Kayla’s, almost putting out my eye.

“You’ve got me.” Finn paws at my pants leg. “I’m not nothing.”

“You’re right.” I reach down and rub his soft ears. Then I wrap an arm around Naomi in a sideways hug. “I’m lucky to have both of you.”

“I believe in you.” My friend hugs me back, and I want to stay right here forever, where everything is safe and warm.

The huge silver doors swing inward to show an unfamiliar fae. He’s almost as handsome as Severin, which means he’s absolutely gorgeous, with deep-tan skin and long silver hair and tattoos. A midnight blue shirt clings to his broad torso, and his black leather pants look painted on.

“Do all shadow fae look this good?” I whisper to Naomi out of the corner of my mouth. Severin said dozens of his fae would be shopping and eating out in Ferndale Falls on any given day, and if they all look like this, there will be riots.

“Yep,” she says in a normal volume, her tone dry. “And they have superior hearing, too.”

Whoops! My cheeks heat.

“Indeed, we do, Queen Naomi.” He bows.

A tiny jolt of shock goes through me. I know Naomi’s now queen of the orcs of Avalon, but since there are no more orcs in that realm, I keep forgetting. Also, she’s the friend I’ve known since elementary school who still helps run the family bookshop. She’s warm and friendly and as unpretentious as they come.

“Mayor Hannah Wylde.” He tips his head to me. “I am Varyn, your humble servant.”

Humble my ass! This guy oozes so much self-confidence you could bottle and sell it.

“King Severin and the other contestants await you.” He beckons us inside.

I pull out my invitation and double check the time. Yesterday evening, the parchment let out a notification chime, and as I watched, a new line of text appeared below the date, specifying six o’clock. “I’m not late.”

“You are not. You are simply the last scheduled to arrive.”

Okay, good. I hate being late—it always makes me feel like I started on the back foot.

The foyer looks just as grand as it did before, but there are other fae around this time, walking from one room to the other. Even though I can’t catch any of them looking, I feel the press of eyes all around me.

“They’re staring,” I lean over and whisper to Naomi, trying to be even quieter than before.

“They’re checking out their new queen.” She pats my arm.

Uncertainty shivers through me. I thought all those public speaking classes in college got me past feeling like this. That once I’d spoken in front of an auditorium of five hundred people, I could do anything.

Ugh, wrong. This is sweaty-palms, give-a-speech-in-front-of-your-high-school-crush levels of nerves.

Chin up, Hannah, I tell myself. You’ve got this.

Varyn instructs Naomi on how to announce me, and my friend marches beside me down the long throne room. The sunlit stained-glass windows throw patterns of color across the white marble floor, dazzling in their beauty.

But nothing can distract me from the man seated on the throne. Severin’s eyes catch mine even from a distance, and I can’t look away, like metal pulled to a magnet. He once again wears his crown, its silver branches curling upward from his head, catching the light and standing out against his inky-black hair. The same silver branches decorate his deep-green waistcoat like a shimmering, magical forest. An air of command surrounds him. Yesterday, I relaxed in his presence enough to forget that he’s a king. I can’t today, and it’s not the crown. It’s him.

He’s breathtaking.

“King Severin,” Naomi says, her tone formal. “The witches of Ferndale Falls present to you Mayor Hannah Wylde.”

“My betrothed,” he growls. In a flash of fluid movement, he stands and gathers my hand in his, kissing my knuckles right below my engagement ring while continuing to hold my gaze.

It’s just my hand, but the way Severin kisses it—his eyes wicked and knowing as they meet mine—makes me imagine him kissing me everywhere. My butterflies take flight, and I try not to squirm. If we were really engaged I’d be totally comfortable with his kisses, not blushing like a school girl.

“You cannot be serious, Severin,” a woman says. “Her?”

My butterflies die, poisoned by the disdain dripping from her voice. Yanked from Severin’s sexy magnetism, I spin, finally noticing the other people in the room.

There’s a pair of gnomes, and the younger woman gives me a nod of greeting, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she spots my engagement ring.

Two tall, willowy women with leafy hair both watch me with slightly mournful looks on their faces. I immediately want to go over and tell them everything will be alright.

I keep turning, my eyes sliding past another good-looking shadow fae man to…

Oh, god. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen glares dismissively at me, her eyes the light blue of the heart of a glacier and just as warm. She’s taller than me and model-thin, with leather-encased legs that go on for days. Long blonde hair flows around her shoulders like something from a shampoo commercial. Shadow tattoos slide across the bare skin of her arms, promising magic and power. And her face! Her face is carved by a master artist, a perfect match for Severin’s chiseled features.

I swallow so loudly I’m sure her fae hearing picks it up, because she sniffs and sneers even harder.

“This is a farce. You honestly expect me to believe you’re going to choose this human over me?” The shadow fae rests a hand on Severin’s forearm, her tattoos sliding toward his. When she catches me looking, she preens like a cat with the cream.

In a flash, I realize she’s so comfortable touching him because they’ve been lovers. The dead butterflies plummet to the bottom of my stomach like sinking stones. I’ve always been pretty confident in myself and my looks, but this woman is unreal. I’m wearing my prettiest purple blouse and a pair of really sharp designer trousers I got for a steal at Nordstrom Rack. I look my best, but I can’t hold a candle to her. How can I ever compete?

“I would never choose her.” Finn presses against my calf, a low growl humming through his body as he stares at her, his fangs bared. “Don’t forget you have the great honor of being my witch.”

“Thanks, bud,” I whisper.

The beautiful fae ignores us and says to Severin, “Declare me your queen.”

“Never,” he snaps, his shadows emerging to shove her hand from his arm. “It will never be you, Meloria.”

The conviction in his voice shocks me. Is she why he wants to fake marry me? So he won’t be forced to marry her? I don’t know whether to be thrilled or insulted.

“We will begin the first trial.” He keeps his grip on my hand, and one of his shadows coils around my waist, keeping me close as he leads all of us outside to his garden.

A five-foot pillar of rose quartz stands on a low dais. Varyn instructs the representatives to surround it. “Place one hand on the bridal crystal, and it will create the first trial.”

“You really don’t know what the trials are going to be?” I whisper to Severin.

“No one does.” He shakes his head. “The crystal changes them each time. It’s the only way to make the trials fair.”

Before I can ask anything more, a wave of magic crashes over me, snatching me from Severin’s grasp. I float up into the air in a blazing ball of light. Tingles rush over me as my clothing disappears to be replaced by slippers and a floating gossamer gown of white. It’s lovely and ethereal, like someone captured starlight and gave it physical form. The magic lowers me gently to the ground, clearing so I can see again.

All of the other contestants wear dresses like mine, and of course, Meloria looks freaking amazing.

A scroll of parchment pops into being in front of Varyn, and he reads, “The first trial is the trial of grace. Each contestant must make it across this field of flowers to the groom. Let it be known you now wear the finest of Faerie silks. A single touch of the blossoms will stain. She who makes it across without any discoloration in the most graceful fashion shall win.”

Magic ripples across the ground, moving Severin to the other side of the garden like he stepped onto one of those moving walkways airports have, only made of grass.

The middle of the garden transforms, the paths and bushes disappearing until it becomes a solid sea of flowers in a patchwork of red, pink, blue, purple, yellow, and orange.

It’s absolutely beautiful, but it’s also impossible to get across without touching any of the blossoms.

“You call this a trial?” Meloria lets out a sarcastic laugh and leaps into the sky, her wings snapping out of her back. She makes a sharp V in the air, arrowing down to land directly in front of Severin, her dress as pristine as a field of arctic snow. She throws a gloating smirk at me as she stands at his side.

Damn. I hate that she’s already potentially won, and I sure as hell can’t fly. I spent a good half hour yesterday jumping around on a straddled broom, which gave me nothing more than a killer wedgie.

Naomi steps close. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll scout.” Finn trots toward the flowers, nose to the ground, and runs back and forth across the front. He gives a frustrated snort, then plunges into the lush growth, setting a stand of irises swaying. Emerging several feet away, he slinks back over, his tail down. “I couldn’t find a way through.”

“It’s okay, bud. I don’t think there is one.”

“I’ll go next,” the gnome says. Instead of moving toward the flowers, she dances away from them, going over to a flower bed edged with bare earth. With a swan dive, she disappears into the ground, leaving behind her little moss cap. She pops up a minute later from a plant bed behind Severin, looking exactly the same except for the tiny patch of violets on her head.

“How the heckity heck is her dress still white?” I gesture. “She tunneled through dirt, for god’s sake!”

“It’s gnome magic,” Naomi says. “They have complete control over everything underground.”

If there’s one good thing about it, at least it means Meloria no longer has this thing in the bag. She knows it, too, her mouth twisting like she sucked on a lemon.

A spurt of glee goes through me. If that’s a character flaw, it’s one I don’t want to fix. Even if I lose today, I sure as hell don’t want Meloria to win.

But none of this helps my cause. I don’t have gnome magic, either.

The remaining young woman turns her sad-looking eyes upon me. “Would you like to go next?” Her voice is so tremulous I want to wrap her in a hug and tell her everything’s going to be alright.

“No, please go.” I smile brightly, and her expression lightens a little. As she turns away, I whisper to Naomi, “What kind of fae is she?”

When my friend shrugs, Varyn leans in between the two of us and murmurs, “She’s a wood nymph. One bound to a weeping willow, I’d say.”

“Oh!” That’s the kind of leaves her hair’s made of!

She drifts over to one of the maple trees and plucks a fresh helicopter seed from among its leaves. Bringing it to her mouth, she sings to it, a soft susurrus of a sound, like a breeze through branches. It grows and grows until it’s as big as she is. The wood nymph clings to its stem, holding its propellers over her head like a helium balloon, and like a balloon, it lifts with the next gust of wind. Spinning, she sails over the flowers in a gentle glide to touch down lightly on the far side.

That’s it. All three of them have potentially won.

Severin stares at me with laser focus. I don’t need telepathy to know what he’s trying to tell me: It’s my turn to complete what everyone else obviously considers the easiest of trials.

My teeth dig into my lip, my stomach tightening into a knot.

There’s still one eensy problem.

I’ve got zero way across.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Hannah

I remain standing frozen, doing my best impersonation of stone. Maybe if everything goes sideways with all of this, I’ve got a career as a human statue in Time’s Square.

Varyn clears his throat. “It’s your turn.”

“Yep. Sure is.” I nod my head, wiping sweaty palms on my thighs. “Totally my turn.”

I spin toward Naomi, widening my eyes in secret friend speak for “what the hell do I do?”

She gives me a sheepish grimace-smile—she’s got no clue either. “I could teleport you?”

“Absolutely not,” Varyn says. “The trials don’t allow for outside assistance from other people.”

“Is Hannah allowed to use tools?” Naomi points toward the wood nymph. “She used a tool.”

“Yes. Hannah may use anything she has to hand.”

“What about a riding lawn mower?” I say. “You could teleport one here. If I cut a path through the flowers, they can’t touch my dress.”

“I’m not sure destroying flowers would be considered very graceful,” the fae says.

Damn, he’s got a point.

“What if I forged a path? I’m far more graceful than any noisy mower.” Finn springs forward, leaping at the front of the flower field. He works furiously for several minutes but clears only a square foot of space.

“Will you stop faffing about and go already?” Meloria yells.

“Faffing! How dare she say I’m faffing!” Finn barks, his orange head popping up to glare at the shadow fae. “This is hard work.”

It’s true. His little sides are already heaving, and he’s barely scratched the surface.

“It’s okay. She was talking to me, not you,” I say to him. “You’re doing great, but I’ve got to find something I can do.”

His eyes narrow as if he can tell I’m stretching the truth to spare him. “Are you certain?”

“Yep. One hundred percent. This one’s on me, bud.”

He emerges and flops onto the grass, his little tongue dangling out the side of his mouth as he pants, and I know I made the right call. Winning isn’t worth him hurting himself.

“I’ve got an idea.” Naomi winks at me and blinks out of existence, popping back into view, holding…

“Are those walking stilts?” I blurt.

“Yep.” My friend sets their ends down on the ground. They’re the nice kind, made out of light aluminum poles that extend upward all the way to the armpits. They even have handholds in addition to the foot platforms.

“Man, we haven’t messed with these in years.” I grip the handle of one and give a little hop, checking my balance. We spent every evening of our seventeenth summer on these things after seeing a guy run around on stilts at the state fair.

“Yeah, but you were always good with them.” She grins at me.

“Thanks for thinking of these. You’re the best.”

“Sure am.” Naomi steps close so I can use her shoulder to help me get situated, then she continues to hold the left stilt as I take the handgrips. “You good?”

I reposition my foot and nod. “Yeah.”

She relaxes her hold, staying close to catch me.

My first step totters a bit, and I have to run forward for a few steps to regain my balance. Then I have it! My body swings back into the rhythm, and I turn toward the flowers.

“It’s now or never, Hannah,” I mutter, catching Severin looking at me, his mouth a little agape. Hah! Looks like our king hasn’t seen anyone do this!

With a grin, I move forward, a good two feet off the ground. The flowers glide by underneath me, and joy bubbles in my chest. I’m doing it! Even without my magic, I’m doing it! I might not win this trial, but completing it successfully will prove I’ve got what it takes.

I’ll win one of the next trials. I know I will. And at the end of the competition, Severin will name me the overall winner. I’ll fake marry him, and all of my dreams for Ferndale Falls will finally come true!

I run now, run toward him, run toward this bright future, carried by hope and happiness.

A grin stretches my cheeks, my heartbeat racing with excitement. I’m almost there, only a couple of feet left to go.

The left stilt jerks beneath me when I try to take my next step, refusing to budge. I try to correct, my heart leaping into my throat, but it’s too late. My body’s already leaning too far forward. A swirl of purple and pink and red rushes toward me as I face plant into the ground, barreling forward like a baseball player sliding for home base as I come to a stop right in front of Severin’s boots.

“Hannah!” Naomi and Finn yell as I lie stunned.

Strong hands hook under my shoulders and lift me. Severin’s eyes rove over my front as he pulls me to my feet.

Following his gaze, I look down…

“Oh, no.” Tears sting my eyes. “No, no, no.”

“Hannah, are you hurt?” Naomi slides to a stop at my side.

Finn runs up and sets his front paws on my thighs, staring up at me. “Speak, witch!”

Somehow, I’m not hurt—the flowers must have broken my fall. But my pride? My pride took a fatal wound. Can you die of embarrassment? Because I totally feel like that should be possible.

“Hannah?” Naomi asks again, her voice hesitant, as if my silence makes her even more worried.

I hold out my arms and wail, “I look like a Jackson Pollock painting!”

Instead of white, my Faerie silk dress is every flower-color imaginable, covered in overlapping blotches of pink, orange, yellow, red, purple, and blue. It would be pretty if it weren’t so completely the opposite of what it needs to be. Now, I’m not simply the contestant who didn’t pass, I’m the one who failed miserably.

I was close, so close, to having everything I ever wanted, and it all got snatched away by a single misstep.

Severin still hasn’t said a word, his expression hard, his body vibrating with barely contained fury.

Shit. My heart leaps into my throat, and I swallow. I’ve got bigger problems than this one trial.

Severin must know I didn’t tell him the truth about my magic.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Severin

How dare she?

My hands ball into fists, my shadows lifting from my writhing tattoos, ready to snap out and punish.

I turn my furious gaze upon Meloria, who stands completely unrepentant. She cheated and sent her shadows sneaking out into the flowers to trip Hannah before I could stop her.

Yet I only know this because I, too, ignored the rules and sent my shadows sliding through the flower field. I kept them low to the ground, hidden by all the blooms and leaves. As soon as I realized Hannah must lack the kind of magic that would let her cross, I vowed to help her. Only I didn’t need to. Hannah did fine on her own, using her innate balance and grace.

Then Meloria struck, and all I could do was cushion Hannah’s fall, my shadows catching her right before she hit the ground.

Goddess. I can’t say a word about Meloria’s perfidy without exposing my own. If the representatives discover I’m willing to bend the rules to aid Hannah, they’ll keep me from helping her during the next trials. My teeth grind as I bare my fangs.

The bridal crystal lets out a loud chime, and a scroll appears before Varyn, who snaps it out of the air and unfurls it to declare, “The winner of the trial of grace is…”

He pauses, drawing out the anticipation until I want to throttle him.

“Elowen! Elowen is our winner!”

Meloria scowls and mutters, to no effect.

The bridal crystal is ancient and incorruptible magic. Not even I can sway it. Besides, it chose true, for the nymph’s magicked flight was the epitome of grace.

Another chime, and my garden slides back into its original configuration as if the trial never occurred. The magic wraps each contestant in a whirl of brightness before fading to show them in their original clothes.

“At least I no longer look like a tie-dye experiment gone horribly wrong,” Hannah says as she crouches down to pet her familiar.

Finn yips and spins in a circle, making her laugh, her hand flying up to her head, feeling all the flower petals stuck in her hair. She leans over him, letting her long, fine locks stream toward the ground, and gives a good shake, showering him with petals.

“He’s very sweet, your fox.” Elowen bends over, stretching out a long, graceful arm.

He lets her scratch his head, yipping all the while.

“He says to tell you his name is Finn and that he’s not my fox—I’m his witch.”

Elowen laughs, the happy rustle of leaves in a playful breeze. Ruby and Naomi join in, cooing over the animal, and the women introduce themselves to each other. It’s fascinating, the way Hannah asks about each of the fae, getting them talking and setting them at ease. This must be part of why she’s mayor, but it’s very different from everything I know of being a leader. She connects to people via kindness instead of imposing her will on them via power. Perhaps marrying her will aid in improving my reputation more than I ever expected.

But to do that, I need her to win this competition.

“Hannah, I must speak with you.”

Both Hannah and Meloria look at me, the former looking miserable, the latter grinning, both assuming I’ll cast Hannah aside. Everyone else in the garden watches closely as well.

I need to make a show of support, convince everyone our fake engagement is real.

“I’m so glad you’re all right.” Gripping Hannah’s shoulders, I pull her close, as if overcome with concern. I’ve got no chance to warn her I’m going to kiss her—the other fae would detect a sound-cloaking spell and know something isn’t right. Will she be able to fake some enthusiasm for a kiss? Goddess, I hope so.

Hannah jerks as if startled, planting her palms on my chest as if ready to push away. Tension thrums through her muscles, her body rigid against mine. I brush my thumb down her cheek, slip it under her chin to tilt her head up.

She gasps, her heartbeat thundering in my ears as it picks up speed. Her beautiful brown eyes brim with a million questions, her lips parting as if to ask what I’m doing. I can’t let her speak—it’s not a question a real couple would need asked.

I cover her mouth with mine, swallowing the first soft sound of her confusion before it can escape. Her body remains stiff, her lips unresponsive. Seconds tick by like hours while she stands frozen in shock. Goddess, this kiss will fool no one! My hold on her tightens, pulling her closer to make the embrace appear more passionate.

Then Hannah makes this breathy little moan, her lips moving against mine as her body melts into my embrace.

Goddess, that sound! Hunger races through me, and I tease her lips apart, my tongue plunging forward to taste, to feast. I crush her close, my shadows leaping from my skin, coiling around her and holding her as tightly as my arms.

Hannah’s hands fist the open collar of my shirt, pulling her even closer, and she makes that little noise again, the one that goes straight to my cock.

I growl, sliding my lips to the edge of her jaw, right below her ear. Goddess, she smells delicious, like sunshine and flowers, sweet enough to eat. I nip at her with my fangs until she squirms.

A throat clears rather loudly behind me. I ignore it. Someone calls my name. It means nothing compared to the woman in my arms and whatever I need to do to get her to make that bewitching sound again.

“Severin, enough!” The sharp snap of Meloria’s voice slices the air.

My head whips around, and I scowl. “You dare!”

“I’m not the one showing a lack of decorum. Instead of watching any more of this, I’m taking my leave.” With one last sneer, Meloria and her representative leap into the air, their shadow wings unfurling as they speed toward the waterfall and the waiting door to Faerie.

Thank the goddess. With any luck, she’ll stay away until the next trial. My anger might have cooled by then. Perhaps, although doubtful. As a shadow fae, I know how to hold a grudge, and the wrong she did to my betrothed…

Another realization strikes. If Meloria doesn’t stay away from Ferndale Falls over the coming weeks, Hannah’s not safe.

The gnomes and wood nymphs make their own noises about leaving, yet linger. I grind my teeth and make forced small-talk, which is admittedly nothing more than a series of grunts on my part.

Finally, I’m alone with Hannah, Varyn, and Naomi.

“Meloria cheated,” I growl. “She tripped Hannah during the trial.”

“I knew something was off!” Hannah snaps her fingers, and Finn gives an angry bark.

“Find me a bodyguard for Hannah.” I meet Varyn’s eyes. “Not a shadow fae.”

He raises an eyebrow as if to ask if I’m sure.

I give a small nod. I am. Besides him and Daigan, there aren’t many other fae I can be completely certain Meloria can’t undermine, and I need both of them to continue their current duties.

“There are cu sith in Alarria,” I say. The wolf shifters make the best bodyguards, fearsome fighters in their werewolf forms. Better yet, once they accept a job, their loyalty cannot be bought, no matter the bribe offered.

“On my way.” His silver shadow wings spread wide, carrying him up into the air.

“I need to get back to the shop,” Naomi says to Hannah. “You want to come with?”

Hannah meets my eyes and shakes her head. “Severin and I need to talk.”

“I’ll fly her back to town,” I say

The fox barks.

“And you as well.”

Another bark.

Hannah shakes her head. “He wants to go with Naomi.”

The fox gives me one last warning glare, baring impressive fangs.

Although glad she has such a loyal protector, I bare my own. It’s not in my nature to hide my strengths.

The two of them disappear, leaving me alone with Hannah at long last.

“We need to talk.”

She nods, her cheeks pinking as her fingers brush her lips.

“I need to know what your magic is so I can understand the challenges you’ll face in each trial.” And how best to help her with my own magic, though I don’t admit that to her. We might not have known each other for long, but I can tell she won’t agree to cheating.

Hannah lets out a soft oof, as if punched in the gut, and several emotions dash across her intoxicatingly expressive face: surprise, hurt, shame.

I can feel her power, so what has her so worried? Is it completely useless for trials such as these?

A tiny spurt of hope goes through me. What if she has baking magic and I get to marry my own personal baker? I squash the errant thought down with a frown. Good bread won’t help her win the competition.

“What is your magic?” I ask again.

Her face crumples.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Hannah

My hopes plummet. He’s talking about my lack of magic instead of the kiss.

The kiss that made my butterflies so pregnant they immediately had babies that tripled my tummy flutters. The kiss that made me moan like an adult actress trying to win the Oscars of porn. The kiss that woke up my lady bits until they screamed for attention.

Oh, god, it was the best kiss of my entire life, but clearly it meant nothing to him. It was fake, all for show, a way to convince Meloria and everyone else he loves me too much to give up on me after my face plant.

My cheeks blaze with heat as mortification twists through me. I must be as red as a beet, which only makes all of this even worse. One thing’s for sure. I’ll only survive the next year by staying really, really far away from Severin and his tempting lips. I take a step back. Keep away from the smoking hot fae, Hannah. That way lies heartbreak and forgetting all of this is fake.

“What is your magic?” He frowns at me.

“I don’t know.” I force the words past numb lips, then like a dam breaking, the rest comes out in a rush. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I don’t have any idea how to use magic.”

Severin’s eyes lock on to mine with piercing intensity as he freezes into unnatural stillness like a predator right before it pounces on prey.

An instinctive warning shivers through my body: here lies danger. So why the hell does it only make him more attractive?

“You deceived me.” He grips my chin, tilting my face upward as he studies it closely. Then he does the absolute last thing I expect—the corners of his lips quirk. “I had no idea you had it in you.”

Did that sound… admiring?

Relief rushes over me, combining with his touch into something heady. I sway toward him.

No! I jerk myself to a halt. Bad body! Remember the distance thing.

“How can you not know your own magic?” he asks.

“I only got it a couple of months ago,” I say. “And I have no idea how to figure out what it is. I tried holding Naomi’s crystal. I asked about family history. I tried to do spells and make potions. Nothing’s worked.”

“Clearly, we must make this a priority.”

“We?”

“From now until you win one of the bride trials, we spend every spare moment together.” His commanding tone rings through the garden. “I will teach you magic.”

His words echo inside me.

Every.

Spare.

Moment.

There goes my grand idea for keeping my distance!

Looks like I’m even more screwed than before.

Wanting to start immediately, he leads me to the palace library. It’s a dizzyingly cavernous room with bookcases that extend so high I get a crick in my neck trying to see the top.

A massive oak grows in the very middle of the room, its tall crown straining toward the glass dome located in the center of the ceiling.

“There’s a tree!”

“Of course there’s a tree.” Severin shoots me a perplexed look. “It’s a library.”

Must be a fae thing. I can’t wait to tell Skye about this. My librarian friend will flip.

He stops beside a long wooden table, its gleaming surface empty except for a single bronze bell. “Bring me everything on human witches.” He rings the bell, sending its sweet musical notes echoing through the space, soon joined by the rustle of paper as scrolls and books fly from the shelves to spiral down and pile onto the table.

Okay, pile is a teensy exaggeration. The library might be huge, but when all is said and done, there are only a handful of books.

He scowls at the gathered material as if it’s personally offended him. “I expected more.”

“It’s more than I had this morning.” I sit and pull the first book toward me. Symbols fill the pages, looking like no language I’ve ever seen. “I can’t read it.”

Severin strokes the back of my hand, sending a jolt of magic shivering through me, and the symbols rearrange on the pages, turning into English.

I dive in, excited to be the first human to read these books in hundreds of years, but the longer I read, the more my joy fades. These aren’t books that talk about how human magic works—they’re books full of stories of fae making human witches fall in love with them. That would be fine—romantic even—but the stories never stop there. No, the fae always disappear, using their magic to hide so they can watch their miserable lovers search for them, sometimes for years, laughing the whole time. That one-hundred percent sounds like something Meloria would do.

But what about Severin? Is he going to do that to me? I watch him out of the corner of my eye as he unrolls a new scroll, his brow furrowed in concentration.

No, Severin told me up front we’d only be married for a year and a day, that all of this would be fake. It’s on me to remember it and not fall in love.

But I keep catching myself stealing glances at him, at the way his green eyes sharpen with intensity when he reads, at the way the muscles in his forearms flex as he unrolls a scroll. Is it any wonder those poor foolish humans of the past fell hard?

After a couple of hours, Severin slams the book he’s reading closed with a weighty thump. “Have you tried a wand?”

“Yes. No. Kind of?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “It’s certainly one of those three, since they run the entire gamut of possibilities.”

“I tried one, and it didn’t work.” I give a sheepish shrug. “It also wasn’t an official wand.” No way in hell am I admitting it was a Harry Potter wand Kayla bought years ago before JKR got problematic.

“I’ll try to procure a real one for you, but that’s the only concrete advice I can find.” Severin scowls at the books. “Everything else is useless.”

“Yeah.” I push my book away, too.

One of Severin’s people calls for him from the door, and he excuses himself to go see what they want.

I pull out my phone, which I’d silenced during the trial. Both Autumn and Skye texted, Autumn a R U OK? and Skye just a bunch of hug emojis. Naomi must have told them about my fall.

The message that grabs my immediate attention is the one from Mom: Call me when you get the chance.

She picks up on the first ring.

“Hi, Mom! Did you find something?” Please say yes. I’ve already lost one trial. It’s more crucial than ever that I figure out my magic.

“Yes! Did you know tight pants on a man will reduce his sperm count? How tight are your new boyfriend’s pants?”

I glance over at the skin-tight leather cupping Severin’s ass. “Deliciously tight” would be the truth, but admitting it will only send my mother off on a sperm-health tangent. “They’re not tight,” I lie.

“Oh, good. So did you try the washing-machine trick yet?”

“Mommm.” God, how is she able to make me whine like a teenager? I’m a grown-ass woman! “Did you find out anything about witches in our family?”

“Not yet, but I’ll keep looking,” she says. “I read another article about sperm—”

Severin turns and walks back toward me, his long legs eating the distance. Exactly how good is fae hearing? The last thing I freaking need is him hearing my mother talk about my sex life!

“Mom, sorry. I’ve got to go,” I cut across her, raising my voice to drown out the rest of her sentence. Then I play my trump card, using the one thing guaranteed to get her off the phone quickly. “Severin’s waiting for me.”

“Oh! You go be with your young man, sweetheart!” she chirps.

The joy in her voice makes me feel extra guilty for quasi-lying to her. “Love you, Mom.”

Severin takes in my flushed face, his sharp eyes missing nothing. “Everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine.”

Or at least it is until he takes me into his arms and wraps his shadow tendrils around me. My butterflies take flight at the same time he does as he flies us up past the top of the tree and through the skylight, which swings open in a pulse of his magic.

The night air is crisp, and I snuggle closer to his warmth, even as a part of my mind hisses about keeping my distance.

Stop being stupid, I hiss back. I can’t keep my distance while we’re flying together or he’ll drop me. It’s logic and physics and stuff. It’s got nothing to do with being attracted to him. Nothing at all.

Beyond the dark edge of the forest, Ferndale Falls spreads out in front of us in a tapestry of lights painted across the landscape.

“It’s so beautiful like this,” I breathe.

“It is,” Severin agrees, his deep voice vibrating through me as his shadows press me even closer.

When I glance at him, he’s looking at me instead of the town, and the butterflies give a few hopeful wing flaps.

Stop it, I tell them. You’re not helping.

They don’t listen—they never listen, the freaking little menaces—and keep fluttering.

We fly over the town green, the familiar clock of Town Hall ringing the hour. I give directions, leading him to my cottage, close to the edge of the forest. Since Ferndale Falls puts the small in small town, it takes only a minute for us to land in my front yard.

My little one-story home is painted a soft yellow, with natural slate tiles covering the roof and a stone chimney rising from the left. It’s pretty and cozy, the inside filled with cream-colored walls, warm oak floors, overstuffed comfy furniture, colorful rugs, and lots of cute knickknacks. I adore my little cottage, but it’s certainly nothing like Severin’s palace.

I unlock the door and flip on the entry light, hesitating in the doorway. Do I invite him in? I’ve been inside the public parts of the palace, but the thought of Severin in my little house feels way more intimate.

He makes the decision for me, backing away and tipping his head. “I bid you goodnight.”

“Night.” But he launches himself upwards so quickly my goodbye meets empty air.

He had no reason to stay—there’s no one here to put on a show for. I try to remind myself it’s for the best. Keeping my distance will be easier with actual, you know, distance.

Finn yips and races out of the trees. “You’re here. Finally.”

I crouch down, wrapping my arms around my familiar as he gives my chin a lick. Then my stomach lets out a loud growl, and I go to scrounge for dinner in my cheery, yellow kitchen.

“Peanuts?” Finn says hopefully, dancing around my feet as I open the cupboard and pull out a can of soup.

“Sure, bud, we’ll have peanuts.” I got a bag of unsalted ones just for him.

We settle on the couch in front of the TV, and I turn on the latest reality show while we eat. The soup is salty and rich, thick with lentils and hunks of vegetables, the carrots surprisingly sweet.

In between crunching his peanuts, Finn barks snarky comments about the contestants until he makes me laugh. Then he curls up on my lap and demands scratchies, his contended purrs thrumming through me.

It’s nice, having someone else here. It makes me realize it had been a little lonely before.

You could have invited your fiancé in, a little voice whispers in my head. Then you’d really not be alone.

Fake fiancé, I reply. Fake, fake, fake.

Just like my butterflies, the voice totally ignores me.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Severin

“Excellent news,” Varyn says the next morning, striding out from behind one of the trees beside me.

Having felt his approach, I don’t startle or take my eyes from Hannah’s cottage, which I’ve watched over all night to ensure she’s safe.

“Did you find a baker?” I ask. There’s only so much lumpy porridge a man can eat before going on a villainous spree, after all.

“No, but it’s almost as good.”

Not fucking likely. Nothing is as good as brownie bread.

“Shadow got the orcs to agree to open a pub in Ferndale Falls.”

“This is good news.” I can’t wait to tell Hannah.

“I also have a couple of cu sith interested in the bodyguard job. Where should I bring them?”

My shadows stir, having sensed movement. I wave him to silence and refocus on the cottage.

The front door opens, and Finn comes racing out, making the thin shadow stretched across the bottom of the doorway twang in alarm. He gives several yips before disappearing into the trees.

Hannah follows, wearing a green top the color of maple leaves in the sun. It looks lovely on her.

My shoulders ease. There’s no way Meloria could have made it through my shadows without me knowing—I wove an extra tight protection around every access point—but that’s not the same as seeing Hannah safe.

Her friend, the short blonde, pulls up in one of the mechanical contraptions humans love and waves from its open window.

“Thanks for this,” Hannah says, getting in on the other side. “I left my car at Town Hall yesterday and forgot until this morning.”

“Please, it’s not a problem. The library’s the next building over.” The vehicle rolls backward.

As soon as it drives off, I pull all of my shadows back to me and form my wings. “Bring the bodyguards to Town Hall as soon as you can.”

Varyn rises beside me. “You’re going to keep watching her?”

“Of course.” As I lift above the trees, I search for the car. “I have to keep Hannah safe. My arrangement with her is still the only reason we’re able to be here on Earth.”

“Is that really the only reason you’re doing it?” he teases.

I scowl at him until he smirks and flies off toward the waterfall. Then I yell, “Get me a baker!”

An hour later, a pixie finds me where I perch on the outside sill of Hannah’s office window, held in place with shadows. I magicked myself to be invisible, but used a low-effort spell meant only to fool humans. The tiny fae spots me easily. He flies off, only to return a few moments later with the pixie leader and several of the flock, who carry a square paper box only an inch high.

“King Severin,” the head pixie pipes, “we bring you a gift.”

They drop the package into my hands, and when I open it, the sweet smell of maple syrup teases my nose. It holds a flat, bready disk with square depressions punched into its top. Syrup and crushed hazelnuts well within.

It’s cut into quarters, and I pick one up, syrup running down the meat of my hand. The sweet burst of maple coats my tongue mellowed by butter, the bread part surprisingly crunchy but good. I grunt and take a bigger bite. This might not be the airy perfection that is brownie bread, but it’s far better than porridge. “What is this?”

“It’s sweet pizza,” she says. “The humans eat it for breakfast, along with egg pizza. We want to be open all day instead of only in the evenings, but we need to hire a cook for the egg pizza.”

“Omelets,” another pixie says. “The humans call them omelets.”

“They are egg pizza.” The leader chops at the air dismissively. “The humans will call them that if they want to eat at our café.”

I snort in amusement and finish off the last bites of sweet pizza. What did Shadow say humans call these? Waffles? What a ridiculous-sounding word! But delicious, I’ll give them that. My shadows carry the empty paper box down to a trash receptacle as I lick the syrup from my fingers.

“We will open tomorrow.” The pixie shoots me a pointed look. “You will tell your people our sweet pizza is good?”

“I will.”

“That first one was free, but tomorrow bring money.”

I smirk. I like her and her little mercenary heart. “What can I call you?”

“You have not earned my name!” She sounds affronted, her wings flapping with agitation.

“I didn’t assume I had. Do you have a nickname I can use?”

Her little face twists in thought. “You may call me Blue.”

I tip my head.

Blue calls to her flock in the high whistle of pixie speech, and they dart away. On their way back to Slice of Life, they dip low as they cross the green to buzz over the sleeping herd of tulips, whose drooping heads snap upright. They chase the pixies to the edge of the grass, waving their leaf arms. They’re joined by another group of tulips. It seems at least one witch has been busy.

But it’s not Hannah. Of that much, I can be certain. If her magic connected to plants, I’d feel it.

She works at her desk, tapping away at one of the human inventions I know nothing about. Her lips purse, and I’m thrown back to the best part of yesterday.

The kiss. The kiss that started as nothing more than a means to fool the others and turned into so much more. The taste of her, the feel of her pressed against me, and that little noise she made… Goddess, I’d kill to hear that noise again.

My shadows slide forward, searching for cracks around the window frame, wanting to touch her.

“Severin,” Varyn calls, emerging from the forest behind Town Hall, two cu sith following in their black wolf form. They come to a halt below me.

“Why are you in your animal forms?” Irritation runs through me. “A good bodyguard should blend in.”

“We thought the protective spell would make us look like dogs,” the larger wolf says. “Humans love dogs.”

“Trust me, talking dogs do not blend in.” I scowl down at them as I push off from the window, my shadows holding onto the ledge to control my fall. Once my feet touch the ground, I pull the shadow tendrils back in.

The wolves shift to their fae forms. One turns into a fae woman with pale skin, long, curly brown hair, and delicate features. The larger wolf becomes a tall man with deep-brown hair, lightly tanned skin, and an impressive build. “I’m Rune,” he says. “And this is Luna.”

“King Severin.” I send a pulse of magic toward them, wrapping them in T-shirts, jeans, and sneakers. “Public nudity isn’t acceptable on Earth. Human clothes will help you blend in better.”

Rune looks up from inspecting the jeans. “Who are we protecting?”

“Mayor Hannah Wylde, a human witch who doesn’t know how to use her magic.”

“And what are we protecting her from?” Luna asks.

“Meloria, a shadow fae. She thinks to wed me, even though Hannah and I are betrothed.”

Rune and Luna share a look, and Luna gives a little nod. Rune turns to me. “We’ll do it. I’m on days and Luna’s on nights. We’ll need a place to sleep when we’re off duty. We could use the forest, but…” He gestures toward the town. “There are humans everywhere, and we have no den.”

“I’ll rent one of the human apartments for you.” One of the ones above the jewelry shop instead of the pizzeria. I might be a shadow fae, but even I’m not evil enough to subject fae with keen hearing to the clangor of a flock of pixies.

“And we’ll need more human clothes,” Luna adds. “If we have to shift to our werewolf forms to fight, these will be destroyed.”

True. Their werewolf forms are far larger. “Done.”

As soon as I mention that Hannah’s inside Town Hall, the werewolves take off to make a circuit of the building.

Now that I know Hannah will be safe, the strangest feeling goes through me, one I’ve never felt in all my years.

Is this relief? Have I been worried about my enchanting little witch not only because of her place in my plans but also because I care about her?

What a very curious feeling.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Hannah

I never knew having a bodyguard would be such a weird feeling. I barely see the woman, Luna, since she protects my cottage at night. But Rune has to stand there and watch me do paperwork all day. As much as I love my job, no one could ever think this part of it is thrilling.

“Are you sure you won’t sit?” I ask Rune for the millionth time.

“Sitting means relaxing, and—”

“—relaxing is the worst thing a bodyguard can do,” I say in synch with him, having heard it enough.

Rune looms beside the door to my office, all muscles and wild brown hair. His features are ruggedly handsome, with fascinating amber eyes and just enough scruff of beard to be sexy. He looks like one of those guys from an SUV commercial, the kind that tries to convince men that buying this specific car will turn them into competent, sexy outdoorsmen.

He’s very quiet and courteous with me, but every time I look at him, I get the restless urge to be outside. Maybe I’m projecting because I know he shifts into a wolf? Or maybe my magic can sense something about him.

That would be freaking fantastic if true, because I sure as hell can’t get it to do anything else.

I spent yesterday evening doing more research with Severin. We finished off everything else in his library, but found nothing useful. I’m touched by how much time he’s spending to help me. I know it also helps him, but even though we both get frustrated at not finding anything, he never gets impatient with me.

The loud clattering of someone running up the Town Hall’s wooden stairs in hard shoes echoes through my office door. Jared bursts into the room, his perpetually sunburnt face slick with sweat, his damp lycra cycling clothes clinging to him. “Hannah!”

In a blur of movement, Rune power slams Jared into the wall so hard the freaking building shudders.

“Hannah?” Jared croaks at the same time I yell, “He’s okay!”

Rune relaxes the arm he has barred across the cyclist’s neck but keeps pinning him in place.

Jared tries to push back, his massive thighs straining. Up until a few days ago, I would have said he was the strongest man in town, but Rune holds him easily.

Exactly how strong are fae compared to humans? How strong is Severin? A knowing goes through me, my body remembering how effortlessly he carried me through the sky, his arms unwavering.

Jared’s grunt of effort and irritation snaps me back to the present.

“Please let him go,” I say. “I’ve known him since high school.”

“Shadow fae can cast glamours, can make themselves look like anyone.” The werewolf bares his fangs at Jared, who hopefully can’t see them because of the protective spell. “Prove you’re who you say you are.”

“Why do you have fangs?” Jared’s eyes go wide. “Are you another of those flying guys?”

Welp, there goes that hope. But actually, it’s okay. If the protective spell is letting Jared see the fae for what they really are, that means he’s either a witch or friendly to magic.

I step out from behind my desk and set a hand on Rune’s arm. “He’s okay.”

As soon as he lets Jared go, I ask my friend, “What’s up?”

“There’s another new castle in the woods!” His pale blue eyes go wide, his voice filled with awe. “And there’s a dragon!”

“Dragon,” I say slowly, trying to wrap my head around it. “You mean a dragon-dragon?”

“It was huge! As big as a house.” He throws his arms wide. “And its wings…”

When I shoot a questioning glance at Rune, the werewolf nods. Okay, so dragons are freaking real and have moved to Ferndale Falls.

Looks like my kooky little town just got kookier.

I get directions and send Jared on his way, promising to talk about all of this soon. Maybe I can have a special town meeting for all the people who can see the fae? I set the issue aside for now. That can be a future-Hannah problem. She’ll probably cuss me out like a drunken sailor for putting it off, but there’s only so much I can handle at one time.

God, I wish I could call Severin. I need to get him a phone.

We head outside and immediately run into Mrs. Greely, who’s walking her elderly Labrador, Max.

“Hannah! Where did all those children come from?” Mrs. Greely points her cane at the tulips racing across the green. “They can’t be more than three-years old. Why isn’t anyone watching them? It’s a disgrace!”

Oh, god. I slap a hand over my mouth to try to hide my laughter. If the walking tulips look like toddlers, I wonder what she sees the pixies as.

“A disgrace,” another voice echoes.

I spin. There’s no one else near us. “Who said that?”

Rune shoots me a puzzled frown.

“Said what?” Mrs. Greely taps my arm. “Don’t you try to distract me, young lady. You’re the mayor. What are you going to do about the children?”

“I’ll look into it, Mrs. Greely. I promise.” At her that’s-not-good-enough snort, I add, “We should be glad we have such a wonderful small town where we all know each other and children can play without worry.”

Her face softens. “That’s what we did in my day.”

I pat her arm, letting out a quiet sigh of relief that I’ve diverted her.

“But there are strangers, Hannah!” She shakes her cane toward the other sidewalk, where a gnome does cartwheels and a wood nymph glides along. “Strangers!”

Damn. Should have known it wouldn’t be so easy. Mrs. Greely can be a dear, but she’s also the town busybody.

“Those aren’t strangers, Mrs. Greely. They’re new townspeople.” I want my words to be true. I want to win one of the bride trials, fake marry Severin, and make this prosperous future for Ferndale Falls real. Even if my marriage will be fake, what it means for the town won’t be.

It takes several more minutes—and a full interrogation of Rune about who he is—but we finally get free and enter the woods.

Finn races out of a patch of ferns, setting the fiddleheads swaying. “There’s a dragon! I didn’t think they were real, but I saw one.”

“I heard.” I lean over and scratch around his ears until he squirms in delight.

We tromp on down the path, Finn sending a series of suspicious looks Rune’s way. “Why does he have to be here?”

“I told you, he’s my bodyguard.”

“He’s a wolf.” Finn spits it like it’s a dirty word.

I glance back at Rune to find him watching us with fascination. “You can truly talk to him.”

“He’s my familiar.”

“She’s my witch!” Finn yips, then looks up at me. “You don’t need him. I can protect you.”

I stop and crouch down to give him some more love. “I don’t doubt it for a minute,” I lie. Finn’s the best fox to ever fox, but against a shadow fae like Meloria? Hell, no. Especially since she seems like she’d have zero problems hurting innocent animals. “But Rune being here makes Severin happy, and he’s my fiancé.”

“Fake fiancé.” Finn gives my hand a gentle nip to punctuate his words, his teeth grazing without breaking the skin. “I’m your real familiar. I’m more important.”

“You just admitted you’re my familiar.” I grin.

“Humph.”

It doesn’t take us much longer to reach the new castle, which is on the other side of the waterfall from Severin’s palace. And this one is a castle, with plain, heavy stone walls rising to crenellated towers. An outer wall surrounds an open courtyard, paved with huge slabs of stone.

Severin stands beside another fae, who has red-scaled wings and a sinuous tail. Two dark horns spiral up from the long deep-auburn hair covering his head. He’s dressed in brown leather pants and a white dress shirt that sets off his bronze skin.

How the hell do you put on a shirt when you have wings? I shake my head. Magic, of course. Duh, Hannah.

“Hannah, this is Lukendevener, the foremost dragon expert on human magic,” Severin says. “Lukendevener, I present Mayor Hannah Wylde, my betrothed.”

“You may call me Luke.” The dragon frowns. “Humans seem unable to handle a full dragon name.”

“So you’re really a dragon?” I ask. “Someone said you’re as big as a house.”

“That’s my true form, but I’ve been told it’s far too large for Earth.” Luke scowls at Severin, who looks completely unrepentant, then turns back to me. “You really don’t know how to use your magic?”

“I really, really don’t.”

“I look forward to working closely with you to figure it out.”

“No.” Severin steps in between us, his shadows coiling around my waist and thigh to move me gently out of the way. “You will tell me what you find, and I will work with Hannah.”

Possessive much? I guess it’s all part of the act.

“Such a system is inefficient,” Luke says.

“If you’re not up for the task, I’m sure I can find another dragon who is,” Severin snaps.

The dragon’s wings spread wide.

Holy shit. They’re a good ten feet across.

Severin’s wings emerge, and the two fae enter into a staring match. Tension ripples through the air along with pulses of magic. It’s so thick it’s hard to breathe. It goes on and on, and right when I think I’ll scream from the buildup of tension, Luke’s wings fold onto his back. “Very well.”

“Find everything you can about human witchcraft and report to me tomorrow afternoon,” Severin says.

The dragon stomps through the silver doors of his castle.

Severin spins toward me, triumph blazing from his emerald eyes. Power rolls off him, a magnetic pull I can barely resist.

“Cancel anything you have planned for tomorrow evening,” he growls, his shadows tightening around my waist. “The second you get off work, you’re all mine.”

My butterflies do a round of tequila shots, swirling and looping through my tummy in drunken giddiness.

I’m screwed. Totally and utterly screwed.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Hannah

“The second meeting of the Witch Bitch Spicy Book Club is now in session!” Autumn yells when she walks into I Touch My Shelf that evening. Her bangles jangle as she lifts her canvas bags of cocktail mixers high, showing them off.

Everybody cheers, including Naomi, who teleported in from Faerie to join in on the fun this time around.

Autumn hurries over to the table that holds the shop’s coffee maker, and Skye slides her tray of cupcakes over to make space.

They start work, Autumn mixing up cereal-milk cocktails while Skye sprinkles matching cereal toppings over the cupcakes. It turns out the group likes a pretty even mix between the cinnamon, chocolate, and fruity options, so they’re streamlining things to get the meeting going more quickly.

“Can I help?” I ask.

“Nope.” Skye shoos me away. “You update everyone.”

I hide my wince. After the first trial, I used our group text to let the other witches know how it went, but that’s not the same as admitting in person how epically I failed. My cheeks burn in an obvious blush as I finish describing my fall and how utterly I ruined the Faerie silk dress.

“It’s not your fault,” Naomi says. “You were sabotaged.”

Shocked gasps come from the group, and everyone leans forward as my bestie tells them all about Meloria and what she did.

Skye sits on the couch beside me, pressing a cupcake into my hand. Autumn settles on my other side, handing me a drink.

I take a big gulp of my cocoa puffs white Russian right as Naomi finishes and everyone makes outraged noises.

“I can’t believe that asshole cheated!” Kayla yells loudest of all, the gamer in her hating cheating. Tonight’s T-shirt says, Stop staring at my tits, with the writing located directly over her boobs.

“Girl.” Jasmine leans forward and grips my knee. “You stop beating yourself up, right this instant.”

Violeta nods vigorously. “We’re going to make sure you kick that puta’s butt.”

“Thanks, guys.” Tears prickle my eyes. As positive as I always try to be, even I waver. But having friends like these makes all the difference. “You’re the best!”

Everyone gets up to grab their cocktails and cupcakes before retaking their seats.

“I have happier news,” I say, then raise my voice. “Finn.”

His orange nose sticks through the crack in the stockroom’s door to shove it aside. Then he prances into the bookstore, his bushy tail held high like a flag. “Hello! You’re honored to meet me, I’m sure.”

I’m the only one who laughs, but I double check. “Can anyone else understand him?”

A chorus of noes.

“He talks?” Skye squeals. “That’s so cool!”

“Of course it is.” Finn shoots her a fox smile. “It’s me. I’m very cool.”

“Does anyone else have a familiar?” I ask next.

More noes. Then Willow and Abril both make come-here kissy noises that get Finn to trot over for pets.

“I don’t get it,” I say. “We all became witches at the exact same time, when Naomi opened the door to Faerie. Why doesn’t anyone else have a familiar yet?”

Naomi huffs in amusement. “Yeah, sorry to break the news to you, but logic and magic aren’t exactly bosom companions.”

“Speaking of magic,” Autumn says, “did anyone find anything that can help Hannah?”

“My aunt let me have this. I’ve been wearing it every day, but so far nothing.” Jasmine pulls off a crystal necklace that looks exactly like Naomi’s and hands it to me.

I balance my cupcake on my lap and grip the crystal, squeezing it tightly for several moments before giving up. “Nothing, sorry.” I hand it back.

“I found this in an old family diary from the Puritan days,” Violeta pulls out her phone and reads from the screen: “Father locked me in my room, telling me dancing is wicked and I must repent my sins. So I sang and sang as a storm raged around the house. Father came into my room, shouting that the devil was in my voice. He whipped me, demanding I never sing again.” Violeta looks up. “I skimmed ahead, but couldn’t find anything else. Either she was too scared to do it again or too scared to write it down.”

“Try it.” Autumn says. “Sing something and see if you do magic.”

“What do I sing, though?” I ask. “Was she singing anything she wanted, or was it a spell?”

Violeta glances at her phone and shrugs. “No idea.”

Rachel suggests “Abracadabra” by Lady Gaga, and everyone agrees it’s the only thing they can think of with witchy words. I make it through all of the lyrics I can remember twice, but nothing happens.

“Fruity bites,” Finn says, bumping my hand. With permission from Autumn, I grab a crunch berry from her cupcake and toss it to the floor, and he dives onto it with an excited yip.

A wry smile curls my lips. At least someone’s happy. I look up at the other witches. “Anything else?”

“I asked all my gamer friends and got more wands.” Kayla pulls them out of the little backpack she carries instead of a purse.

I take a couple of pieces of cocoa puffs from my cupcake and rest them on my thigh. One after the other, I swish the wands through the air, first silently, then saying, “Volito,” which means float in Latin. The cereal pieces remain completely still.

“The books I ordered through library loan are still on their way,” Skye says with an apologetic shrug. “All of the ones that sounded promising are too old to have electronic versions, and snail mail is slow.”

“I couldn’t find anything to help. All of my parents’ old commune friends talk about being one with the land and have a lot of farming tips but nothing actually witchy,” Autumn says. “Sorry we’re not much of a coven yet.”

“Hey, none of that.” I give her a side arm hug. “You guys found out you’re witches less than a week ago. Be realistic.”

“I could say the same to you,” Naomi says. “You haven’t known that long either. Cut yourself some slack.”

“I will.” But even as I say it, I realize it’s a lie. My go-getter personality comes with a downside—I can be pretty hard on myself.

And it’s not like I have a lot of choice. Time’s ticking away. I only have a couple of days before the next trial.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Severin

I spend the entirety of the next day with the dragon, constantly infuriated by his arrogance.

Yes, he’s a renowned scholar. Yes, he’s the foremost fae expert on human magic. Yes, dragons are the only other magic users who can rival the shadow fae in raw power.

I’m still a king.

When Lukendevener tells me not to be foolish for the third time, my shadows spool outward. I barely yank them back before strangling him.

As satisfying as it would be—and it would be very fucking satisfying—throttling him won’t get me what I want.

“It’s not as if you’re the pinnacle of efficiency,” I snark back, waving a hand to take in his library. “You can barely find anything.” Wisteria trees surround the central area, framed by ornate windows. Long hallways lead off of both sides, each of them branching into smaller corridors that wind on for miles. The whole thing is far larger than the building that contains it, but this castle is a piece of Faerie and therefore bound by the laws of magic, which are quite flexible, indeed.

“I am unfamiliar with this library.” He scowls. “It was lost to my family for the past three-hundred years. I only regained access when the doors of Faerie reopened.”

“That’s not my problem,” I snarl, chopping a hand through the air. “I paid dearly for your services, and I expect to receive my due.” I inserted Lukendevener’s castle into the fabric of Earth in the same way I did with my palace. It was his price for helping me with this endeavor. Why he wants to be on Earth, I don’t know or care. But want it he does, so it gives me leverage over him. “Your castle is only anchored here by my agreement with Hannah. If you do not aid me in securing a permanent arrangement, you will be forced to leave.”

He sneers, but instead of arguing, he stomps off into the labyrinth that is his library, searching for answers.

I practice patience for what feels like absolute ages, but when I check the time, it’s only been five minutes. I try again, only making it for three minutes this time.

“You have got to be kidding me.” I scowl at the timepiece, which, being inanimate, doesn’t cower in any kind of gratifying way. Warrior kings never have to wait—warrior kings get immediate results or else.

Fuck. This is one of those times when I dearly miss such raw power.

The dragon finds me various bits and bobs, and when I bring Hannah to my palace that evening, there’s a wealth of magical implements spread across the library table.

We start with the wands. When Hannah has no success on her own, I stand close behind her, my hand wrapped over hers, and we try them all again. The only reaction she’s able to bring about is magic of a more primal sort: my raging erection, which I fight to ignore.

We spend several exhausting hours trying the rest of the paraphernalia, one item after the other, to no avail. By the time I fly her home for the night, she’s drooping in my arms, and not even her usual joy of flying can keep her eyes open.

This will not do. This will not do at all.

I storm into his castle the next morning, demanding lessons in magical theory instead of useless props, and the day passes in a blur of lectures.

It turns out I utterly despise being lectured to.

But I grit my teeth and bear through it. I refuse to lose access to Earth and its forests. And I never want to see that defeated look on Hannah’s face again.

By the time I pick her up at her cottage that evening, I have a new approach in mind.

After a quick flight into town, I land in the middle of the green and escort Hannah in a slow amble down Main Street, her hand tucked into my elbow.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re having dinner together. I hear courting human couples do this all the time,” I say. “Now close your eyes.” Shadows slip from the arm she holds to make a blindfold.

Her fingers brush over them, sending a shiver of sensation racing through me. “I closed my eyes.”

“Yes, but this means nothing will spoil the surprise.”

I lead her closer to Slice of Life, and the pixie on lookout rises into the air with a flutter of excited wings before diving through the front door. A flurry of whisper-yells comes from inside the restaurant, but Hannah doesn’t make any indication that she can hear them.

By the time we reach the door, all is quiet with anticipation. I guide her inside, then drop the shadow blindfold.

“Surprise!” Pixies and people yell from all across the room.

Hannah’s mouth falls open, her eyes widening with delight. She clutches at my arm as if staggered. “Severin, what is this?”

“It’s Ferndale Falls’s newest restaurant, now open for business.” Shadow fae already fill many of the wooden tables, eating flat, triangular pieces of bread covered in a variety of toppings. In the lower light of evening, the deep-yellow walls glow with all the warmth of the setting sun. The pixies have painted a reoccurring motif of ferns and fiddleheads along the bottom of the walls, and if you look closely, little faces peek out, some animal, some various forms of tiny fae. Although nothing like the grand palace I grew up in, the rustic hominess has its own charm.

“Welcome to Slice of Life.” Blue flies forward to hover in front of us. “Right this way. We’ve saved you the best seats in the house.”

She leads us to the table centered right in front of the pizzeria’s wide window, where we can look out over the green, and any passersby can look in and see us on our date. “Choose your toppings, and I will have your pizza in the oven in no time.”

I glance at the menu and set it aside, gesturing to Hannah. “Since I’m unfamiliar with this type of food, you pick.”

“Pepperoni and extra cheese,” she says without thought. Then she gives me a wry smile. “It’s kind of basic.”

“No, it’s a classic!” Blue zooms to the kitchen, and four pixies fly an uncorked bottle of red wine to our table.

I pour for the two of us, then lift my glass. As soon as Hannah raises hers, I say, “Here’s to the first of many successful endeavors for Ferndale Falls.”

“To Ferndale Falls.” She clinks her glass to mine and takes a sip, her eyes widening. “Oh, this is good.”

“It should be,” I say. “It’s one of the finest from my cellars.” I roll the wine over my tongue, enjoying its full-bodied fruitiness that ends with the dry finish of lingering smoke.

As daylight fades, the pixies light candles, bringing one to our table.

“So, Severin.” Tiny flames dance in Hannah’s eyes as she smiles at me. She pulls out her phone and taps at the screen. “I found a bunch of first-date questions and thought we could use them to get to know one another.”

How appropriate, since this is indeed the first date I’ve ever been on. I ask, “What sorts of questions?”

She leans forward and whispers, “Most of this is stuff we should know if we want to convince people we’re actually engaged.”

“We are actually engaged. It’s simply a mutually beneficial arrangement instead of an emotional one.”

“Yeah, but people expect it to be emotional, which you already know, or you wouldn’t keep kissing me in front of everyone.” Her cheeks turn red, and she picks up her wine and takes a drink to try to cover her embarrassment.

Interesting. It seems my enchanting little witch likes my kisses.

“Very well.” I tip my head. “Ask your questions.”

She starts simply, asking about colors and food. I answer green and brownie bread, while hers are pink and cinnamon rolls. Easy enough.

Then she says, “What’s your favorite season?”

“I—” My words stumble to a halt, the facile lie freezing on my tongue. If these are things we need to know about one another for our cover story, I should be honest. “I don’t know.”

Her eyes widen. “How can you not know?”

“Avalon was cloaked in shadows until a couple of months ago. I’ve never experienced real seasons.” I shrug and sip my wine to give my hands something to do. “Ask me again after I’ve spent a year on Earth.”

The compassion and sympathy in her eyes makes me feel unsettled. No one’s ever looked at me in this way. I like that she feels kindly toward me. Yet I also don’t want to think of myself as someone deserving of sympathy. It feels too much like weakness.

To divert her attention, I ask, “How about you?”

“I love summer, like it is now.” She gestures toward the window and the view of the green. “The days are long, and it’s warm enough to swim in the pond by the waterfall. The kids are out of school and spend their days playing.”

It’s telling that she includes the happiness of others in her choice for herself. I’ve never known anyone with such a generous spirit.

“Next question. What’s your favorite childhood memory?” My betrothed glances up at me with an eager grin, but when she sees my blank expression, she quickly says, “Why don’t I go first? It’s actually kind of hard to pick, but it’s probably the My Little Pony party I had for my eighth birthday. All of my friends were there, and my grandmother and mother went all out. We had costumes and decorations and the prettiest cake. Nan got someone to make one in the shape of a pony and iced it in all pink, just like my favorite character.” Tender emotion tinged with a touch of sadness fills her voice.

“You loved her,” I say.

“She was my favorite person in the world.”

“I’m glad you had that.” It’s not a lie. Such a happy childhood created the joyful and open woman Hannah is today.

“What about you?” She sounds hesitant, her fingers twirling the stem of her wine glass.

“I didn’t have a childhood like yours. My parents were usually away, fighting for the Dark God, and I had my studies.” Then I think of something I can share. “But I do remember visiting the greenhouses, which are enspelled with magical suns so we can grow food in Avalon. It was the first time I got to see so many plants in one place.”

“You loved it,” she says. “I can hear it in your voice.”

“The feeling was overwhelming, all those bits of green life calling to my magic. I never wanted to leave.” I take a drink of wine. “But growing food wasn’t an appropriate use of time for a warrior prince. I had sword work and battle magic to learn.”

Her big brown eyes meet mine. There’s that sympathy again, doing strange things to my chest. “Were you able to go back to the greenhouses at all?”

“Not often, though I snuck away when I could.” My lips twitch. “The farmers never told on me, because I healed the plants and made their crops better.”

“I can just picture you.” She grins. “Little Severin, sneaking out of the house to go visit tomatoes.”

“It was the pea plants, actually. I liked the way the vines were like my shadows.”

A tap on the glass jerks our attention to the window. A group of people stand on the sidewalk, watching us with wide grins. Hannah smiles back, and I make a point of reaching for her hand and gazing at her as if she has my full attention.

“What are you doing?” she whispers from the corner of her mouth, trying not to move her lips. Her fingers tremble under mine.

“I’m staring at the woman I adore.” I pull her hand to me and kiss her knuckles.

That overly candid face of hers looks shocked instead of happy. This will not do. My tongue flicks out, sliding into the crease between her fingers. Hannah sucks in a startled breath, a touch of heat enters her eyes, and her cheeks turn pink. Yes, that’s much better.

The people outside laugh and elbow each other before giving one last wave and ambling down the sidewalk.

“What was that?” she hisses.

“My tongue.”

“I know it was your tongue!” She tugs at her hand, but I don’t let it go. “Why was it on me?”

“To aid your acting, of course.” I brush my thumb over the damp spot. “Should I do it again? You don’t exactly look enamored of me at the present.” I flick my eyes toward the rest of the restaurant.

Her gaze darts around the room. “Oh, god,” she moans. “They’re all watching us.”

“Of course they are,” I say. “My engagement is the talk of Faerie, so all the fae are watching us. And you’re the mayor, so all the humans are watching us as well.”

I stroke her skin again, and her eyes snap back to mine. Her cheeks flush, and she offers me an over-bright smile.

We’re saved from further awkwardness when a troupe of pixies flies in between us, making us jerk apart. Six of them ring the edge of a circular platter. Once they set it on the table, they throw up their tiny arms and cry, “Pizza!”

All the other pixies in the café repeat the refrain, making Hannah laugh.

The pizza is hot and cheesy, with the flavors elevated by the spiced meat. The bread base is satisfyingly yeasty, fluffy, and light. It’s surprisingly good. If they’ve found a brownie to help them, I wonder how much it would take to bribe them away for my own kitchens.

Hannah takes a bite and smiles with pleasure. “This is perfect. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing less than you deserve.”

She blushes and tries to look away, but I clasp her hand and pull her attention back to me. “Take pride in your success.”

“Is that how you do it as king?”

“Of course. One must always remind one’s people of one’s accomplishments.” My lips curl. “You could even declare a holiday, with heralds and trumpets. ‘Mayor Wylde Pizza Day.’”

Her laughter rings in the air, the joyful sound utterly bewitching. I’ve never made anyone laugh before. The feeling is heady. I want to drink her down, pull all her happiness into myself and luxuriate in it.

“Now, have we answered enough of your questions?” I ask. “Tell me about your day.”

“Oh! I meant to tell you. One of the non-magical townspeople sees the tulips as a gang of toddlers running wild.” Hannah grins. “She’s horrified that they don’t have a babysitter.”

“I’ll have the spell altered,” I promise. “We can make them look like cats instead. Cats won’t cause you any problems, will they?”

“Oh, I’m sure someone will complain.” She laughs again and shakes her head, but good naturedly. “That’s the nature of small towns. But it’ll be a lot easier to deal with than worries about unsupervised children.”

We continue to eat and chat, and I make sure to divert her from any talk of the trials or her magic. All of today’s lecturing gave me a new idea. This evening, I want her to relax so she can approach her magic as something delightful to be discovered instead of an onerous chore.

Hannah takes a bite and lets out one of those breathy little moans she made when I kissed her.

The sound goes straight to my cock, replacing one hunger with a more primal need. The desire to touch her overwhelms me, and my shadows slip from my legs, sliding over the floor to coil around her calves.

The pizza and wine disappear, and when Blue asks if we want dessert, we share a glance.

“Not tonight,” I say, pulling Hannah from her chair. It’s time to test my theory. When the pixie chases after me, sputtering about payment, I tell her to present the bill to my person at the bank in the morning.

The second we step outside, I wrap my betrothed in my arms and leap for the sky.

Hannah’s excited gasp echoes through me, and I love the way she clings to my shoulders, her fingers digging under the edges of my waistcoat. Her hair teases across my cheeks, filling my nose with the scent of her, heady and sweet.

My wings slice the air in fast beats, my magic propelling us forward, shadows reaching out to support her legs. The lights of town soon disappear from below as I fly toward the waterfall.

I set down softly, my feet sinking into the moss-covered ground. Instead of letting Hannah go, I spin her around until her back’s pressed to my front. Out of all the lectures I endured today, something the dragon said early on is what stuck with me: Magic isn’t something we do. It’s who we are.

Everything we’ve tried up until now has been to try to get her to “do” magic. Instead, I want her to connect to the magic already inside of her.

Leaning over, I growl in Hannah’s ear. “Feel this. Feel me.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Hannah

Severin’s voice echoes through me, setting the butterflies wheeling as goosebumps shiver over my skin.

Magic ripples in the air, potent and sharp, billowing around us so thick I can almost taste it.

“Feel the magic. Feel my intention,” he breathes into my ear. “Light.”

A glowing ball of brightness appears on his outstretched hand. He tosses it into the air, where it hangs above us.

“Again,” he growls. “Light.”

I feel the flow of energy this time, streaming from him and into the spell, growing in intensity until another gleaming ball swirls above his palm.

“I felt something!” I breathe.

“Good.” He tosses the light up into the air, where it hangs several feet from the first. “Again.”

This time, he doesn’t give me a verbal cue, but I feel the start of the spell anyway, the welling of power in his chest right before it travels down his arm to create a third luminous ball.

“I felt it! I felt it from start to finish.”

“Good girl,” he growls.

Shock and desire ripple through me, weakening my knees and making my butterflies do back flips as my lady bits sit up and cheer.

His arm tightens on my waist, his shadows wrapping around my thighs. “Isn’t that interesting,” he murmurs.

Oh, god. He’s discovered my praise kink! Arousal and embarrassment wage war within me.

“Focus, Hannah,” he says. “Reach for your magic, match it to mine, and you’ll get a reward.”

His voice drips with honeyed promise. How the hell am I supposed to focus?

Then his magic gathers again, the power of it calling to me with a siren song. Something within me responds, stirring to life. As he lifts his palm, I stretch my hand out beside his.

Severin unspools his magic even more slowly this time, giving me time to match him. A dot of brightness appears above his hand, inching upward in size.

I can feel my magic, feel it moving for the first time. It’s a tiny trickle compared to his power, but it’s there. Yet no matter how hard I stare at my palm, there’s not the tiniest flicker of light.

Why isn’t it working? I know something is happening! So why isn’t there any light?

I push harder, straining until my body shakes. Right when I’m about to give up, a male goldfinch dives from a tree overhead to land on my hand. He spreads his black and white wings wide, framing his bright-yellow chest. “Why light not sun? Why light?”

“It’s magic,” I whisper.

“It’s a bird,” Severin says, his tone a bit dry.

The bird tilts its head to spear me with one dark eye. “No sun? No morning?”

“Not yet,” I say. “You’ve got at least ten hours to go.”

“Who are you talking to?” Severin holds the luminous ball on his palm, his magic still coursing through him, calling to mine.

“The bird.” I crane my neck to glance back at him. “Can’t you hear it?”

“I heard it sing a few notes.”

“No, it spoke in English.”

Severin huffs. “I assure you it did not.”

“Bored now,” the bird says, pecking at my palm. “No bugs.”

When I laugh, it takes off, flapping up to the maple behind me and diving from sight among the leafy branches.

Another sleepy chirp rings out, followed by a different little voice asking, “Sun?”

“No sun,” my little friend sings out. “No bugs.”

A series of little voices around the clearing echo his call. “No bugs. No bugs.”

I spin to face Severin, excitement making my pulse race. “Did you understand any of that?”

“Any of what?” He frowns down at me, confirming what I’ve begun to suspect.

“I know what my magic is!” I can’t believe it—it’s the coolest power! I throw my arms around him. “No wonder I’ve been hearing voices. I can talk to animals!”

My magic surges again, leaping to mix with his.

Severin smirks down at me, wicked heat filling his eyes. Then he growls, “Good girl.”

My knees give out, and he tosses the light ball into the air, freeing his hands to catch me. Severin crushes me to his chest and kisses me, tasting like wine and sin. Any thought of not kissing him evaporates like morning dew facing bright summer sun.

His lips slide to my neck, his fangs nipping at the skin and making me moan.

He growls, his shadows tightening around me. “Do that again.” Another scrape of his fangs, and I do it—I moan again, exactly as ordered.

“Goddess, Hannah.” He jerks forward, pressing the hard length of his cock against me. “Do you feel what you do to me?”

I lift a leg and wrap it around his thigh, tilting my hips until each rock of his hips presses his erection exactly where I need it.

Magic pulses between us, and Severin takes my mouth again in a punishing kiss that’s perfect.

God, I want him so much more than I’ve ever wanted anyone before. I don’t know if it’s because he’s fae or a side-effect of the way our magic just combined, and I really don’t care.

I want him.

I tug at his waistcoat. As sexy as he looks in it, I want the extra layer of fabric gone. Before I can complete the thought, it disappears, to reappear draped over the bush beside us.

At my gasp, he shoots me a cocky smirk that promises lots more delicious surprises to come. He lets go of me, backing away. His boots wink from his feet, and his shirt is next. His wings unfurl to lift him a couple of feet into the air, and he spreads his arms wide, inviting my gaze.

As if I could look away.

Severin hangs half naked in front of me, a fallen angel made for sin, looking far more gorgeous than any man has a right to be. His sculpted chest makes my fingers itch to touch, his abs so sharply outlined I want to lick them. Tattoos swirl across that perfect skin, highlighting the curve of his muscles.

I step forward, and he floats backward, toward the falls. Light from the floating globes sparkles off the cascading water until it glitters like a river of diamonds. He sets down to the right of the waterfall, leaning back against the cliff face.

Even through the background rush of water, his voice whispers in my ear, crystal clear. “Come to me, my betrothed.”

His leather pants disappear, leaving him completely naked. My eyes devour the length of his legs, the strong muscles of his thighs, all outlined by swirling tattoos. My gaze travels upward to his cock, huge and erect and covered in tattoos. I swallow as smoke tendrils lift from it to stretch out into the air, as if reaching for me.

As if ready to touch me everywhere.

“Holy shit, this man is going to ruin me,” I whisper. And I’m going to love every single second.

My own striptease doesn’t use magic, but the intense way Severin watches my every move tells me he’s just as mesmerized. I toe off my shoes, my hands undoing the fastenings of my jeans. Then I turn my back to him and lean over to slide them down my legs, looking at him over my shoulder as I do so. His eyes lock onto my ass, his dick bobbing with excitement, its shadow tendrils stretching toward me.

Oh, yeah. Someone likes what he sees.

I give my hips a little shimmy, then straighten. My fingers fly down the buttons of my blouse, and I shrug it off one shoulder in a tease, looking coyly back at him. I let the other shoulder slip, then spin to face him right as the shirt falls to the ground, leaving me in nothing but my bra and panties. Thank god, I’m wearing one of my best sets, lace in a delicate blue that looks really good against my skin. I walk into the water, wading across the shallow edge of the pool.

Severin’s eyes eat me up, so hot and intense they leave little licks of fire on my skin everywhere they touch. The beauty of the fae is enough to give even the most confident human a bit of a complex, but the look he gives me burns away all of my doubts. I am beautiful.

I am desired.

His shadows leap from all over his body, reaching for me and twining over my arms and legs in a hundred caresses. “I swear, Hannah, if you don’t take those undergarments off right this second, I can’t promise my shadows won’t shred them.”

“Magic them away,” I say, wanting nothing between us. I’m on the pill, and everything I know about fae says they’re immune to disease.

His fingers flick, and I’m naked. Another flick, and his shadows pull me into his arms. His heated skin slides across mine, making my nipples harden. I can’t even tell if I have butterflies any more—my entire body has become one big pulsing flutter of need.

“Severin.” I wiggle against him, wanting more, craving it.

“My enchanting little witch, how beautiful you are.” One hand cups my breast, plucking at my nipple until I moan. The other slides between my thighs, his fingers slipping over my folds. “Goddess, Hannah. You’re already so wet for me, such a good girl.”

The words shoot through me, and I whimper.

He fists his cock until creamy fluid pours into his palm. Then he’s touching me again, tingling warmth flashing over my clit in a jolt of sensation that has me hovering on the edge. I moan, “Oh, god.”

“That’s it. My seed’s going to get you ready to take my cock,” he growls. “I’m going to fill you so full. You’ll like that, won’t you? Like having your pretty little pussy all stretched and stuffed.”

Words won’t come. I can only nod.

Our magic continues to combine and surge between us, adding a dizzying rush of power to every touch. Then he curls his fingers, stroking a magical place inside, and I’m screaming his name as an orgasm crashes over me with all the weight of the falls.

Severin’s shadows continue to caress my skin as I come down, making my body sing. Then they lift me higher, and his mouth finds mine.

His erection leaps against my stomach, and he growls, the sound full of want. His wings wrap around me, and he spins us, pinning me to the rock, his wings cushioning my back.

As we kiss, my hands slide over the firm muscles of his chest, desperate to touch. I reach down and wrap one around his length, trying to guide him to me. Damn, his dick’s so big my fingertips don’t touch my thumb.

The broad head strokes over my sensitive nub, sending sparks shooting through me and making my core clench. Sex has never been like this for me before. Hell, with Severin, multiple orgasms are starting to feel less like a dream and more like a certainty.

He pushes against my entrance, the stretch amazing, almost too much. Magic streams from me to mix with his, flowing back into me in a heady rush.

“Severin!” My thighs tighten around him as he pushes deeper. “Oh, god.”

Then his smoke tendrils snake up my inner thighs. One brushes over my clit, setting it buzzing, while another teases my ass.

The sensation is too much and not enough.

“I’ve got you, my sweet, sweet Hannah.” His hips snap forward, his girth stretching me wide. “Goddess, you feel so good, little witch. You’re so tight, taking me so well.”

I sob, clinging to him, my heart racing, as the tingling warmth builds and builds.

“That’s it. Take my cock.” He thrusts all the way, hitting deep, filling me like nothing’s ever filled me. “Come for me now. Come on my cock like a good girl.”

I do exactly what Severin says, coming harder than ever before. Pleasure flares outward in a sizzling wave of delight that curls my toes as my head tips back, my mouth opening in a scream.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Severin

Hannah’s enchanting moans turn into the scream of my name as she flutters around my cock.

Goddess, she feels divine. I thrust into the sweet depths of her, loving how tight she is, how wet. Loving how much she wanted me, even before the aphrodisiac in my seed began to work on her.

Hannah’s expressive face shows every single thing she’s feeling, and the sounds she makes drive me wild. I can’t get enough of her, of how open she is, how responsive. My little witch has enchanted me. For all her talk of me ruining her, she’s equally ruined me. I can’t imagine going back to the cold and calculated couplings of my past, not after having tasted true delight. Her easy show of delight and desire drive me wild.

I’m undone by the satin of her skin against mine, her sweet floral smell. My shadows slip over her skin, caressing her everywhere, relaying the feeling back to me as an extra layer of sensation. Her magic coils through mine in another kind of caress, one that makes my chest thrum.

The need to thrust, to claim, overwhelms me. I plunge into her wet heat, driving forward with a groan. “So sweet, so tight.”

She makes one of those moans I crave.

“Yes, that’s it,” I grit out, straining to hold off my orgasm, drawing out the pleasure like the greedy man I am. “Keep taking my cock like a good girl.”

Hannah gives a breathy little gasp, squirming against me as her inner muscles clamp down.

Goddess, she’s exquisite. I pound into her, riding her hard, eating at her mouth, swallowing her gasps as I drink down her pleasure. Our magic swells, blending together in a way I’ve never heard of, let alone experienced. The power of it feels giddy and so very, very right.

The shadows extending from my erection stroke over her clit, vibrating back and forth, and reach behind to tease into her ass. Hannah moans, her hands tightening on my shoulders, loving everything I’m doing to her.

I growl, a possessive need to claim filling me. My balls tighten, and the base of my erection begins to tingle as it’s never done before.

I freeze. This can’t be happening. Knotting provides a way for fae to conceive, since we’re not as fecund as humans, but it’s not a given. My knot has never formed for any of my partners, and I never expected it to. But Hannah…

It seems my betrothed is special in more ways that one.

We haven’t discussed offspring, so I can’t knot her at this time.

But fuck, how I want to.

“Severin,” she moans, the sound a deliciously needy whine.

“Hannah, my enchanting little witch.” I thrust harder, my shadows stroking her faster. “You’re going to come again.”

“No,” she gasps. “I can’t. It’s too much.”

“You can.” I plunge deep, my magic surging into her before echoing back, filling my chest. “You will.” My hips snap forward. “Flutter that pretty little pussy all around my cock. Come for me like a good girl.”

Hannah screams my name, her muscles clenching around me like a closed fist, sending bolts of sensation shooting through me.

I ride her through the strongest part of her orgasm before letting mine take me. I pull out partway and wrap shadows around the base of my erection. Then all rational thought fails me. Lightning races down my spine, sizzling through my balls and pouring from my cock in an explosion that goes on and on. My knot swells, and my shadows squeeze, mimicking how good Hannah feels wrapped around the end of my length. I snap my hips forward, my knot grinding against her clit and making her shudder again.

We remain pressed together for long moments, each gasping for breath. The magical pulses ricocheting back and forth between us finally slow, our powers subsiding.

Hannah stirs, her hair brushing my chin, her muscles tightening around me in an aftershock of pleasure. She squirms against my knot, then pulls back to look down, her eyes widening. “What is that?”

“It’s my knot.” I grunt as Hannah moves again.

“Oh, my god, you have a knot like orcs?”

“All fae knot, not just orcs.” I scowl.

“And that’s supposed to be inside me?” She sounds half delighted, half horrified.

“It’s why my seed contains an aphrodisiac. It prepares you to take the knot.” I don’t tell her it’s never formed for anyone else. I’m not even certain what it means.

Holding her close, I turn and walk back to the bank of the pond, my wings opening from where they’ve wrapped around Hannah to cushion her back.

Once there, I slide from her and set her on her feet.

She wobbles and grabs hold of my forearms, giving a little laugh. “I don’t think my knees work anymore.”

Primal satisfaction fills me to know I’ve pleasured her so well, and I hold her steady until she can stand on her own.

She turns away from me, reaching for her underwear, which my magic piled on top of her clothes.

I watch her dress, enjoying the play of the magical light over her long, graceful limbs and the curve of her breasts. I did not taste her this time, and I vow to remedy the lack soon.

Because one thing is certain: once has not been enough to slake my desire for her, and I will not be able to resist, especially kept close to her for a year.

When she sits to put on her shoes, I snap out of my reverie and use my magic to dress in a split second. My leather pants feel uncomfortably tight across my knot, and I send a little magic into the leather, loosening them. If I’d let it form buried inside her, it would last for at least ten hours. But like this, it should hopefully subside soon.

Hannah stands, her gaze a little uncertain when she meets my eyes. “That was…” She flutters a hand toward the waterfall. “That was some kind of reaction to combining our magic, right? It doesn’t change anything. We’re still just faking the whole engagement thing.”

Is that what she sees our encounter as? A side-effect of magic? Does she deny her attraction to me? I cannot do the same—my knot refuses to be ignored, reminding me my enchanting little witch is special. I’ll simply have to seduce her fully until she’s begging to be in my bed for the next year.

I cup her cheek, her magic leaping up to meet mine. She sucks in a breath. “See? It’s the magic.”

“Oh, there’s certainly magic.” I cancel the lights, plunging us back into the dark of night. My eyes adjust quickly, but from Hannah’s squint, she can no longer see me clearly. I pitch my voice deeper, enjoying the way she shivers. “Come. I’ll take you home.”

My shadows coil around her as I take her into my arms, and I leap into the air, speeding along. My scent permeates her skin, marking her in a viscerally satisfying way.

I land at the door of her cottage and give her a light, teasing kiss, one guaranteed to leave her wanting more. “Dream of me, my enchanting little witch.”

Her huge eyes watch me, brimming with questions as I launch into the air.

I will find whatever answers I need to make her mine.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Hannah

When I wake up the next morning, I stretch and roll over, my whole body aching in the very best of ways. God, last night had been incredible. Being with Severin was the sexiest encounter of my entire life. I’ve never come like that before, so often or so hard. I’ve also never felt so connected to another person, so seen.

But I have no idea what magical sex is supposed to be like. For all I know, everything that happened between us is completely normal.

I’m so tired of not knowing about all of this magic stuff! On top of all my embarrassment over the first trial, I didn’t want to admit to Severin that this is yet another thing I’m ignorant about. So I tried to play it cool and make it sound like it was no big deal. Happens every day.

But god, it felt special.

Or was he only acting?

Ugh, I can’t tell which it is. Only one thing to do! I grab my phone from the nightstand and text Skye and Autumn. Anybody want to do brunch? The pixies have opened Slice of Life, and they have waffles!

You had me at brunch, Skye answers.

You had me at waffles, Autumn adds.

Meet you there in thirty?

They both like my text, so I roll out of bed and make my way through the kitchen to the back door. Swinging it open, I call out, “Morning!”

Luna pops out from behind a tree to wave that all’s well, and Finn trots out of the forest, yawning the whole way. As soon as his little tongue uncurls, he says, “This is an ungodly hour.”

“It’s ten thirty! I slept in.”

“Ungodly,” he repeats but squirms happily when I crouch down and give him scratchies. I hit an especially good place, and his left foot lifts, digging at the air and making me laugh.

“I discovered what my magic is last night. I can talk to animals!”

Finn’s eyes snap open, and his ears droop. “You can talk to all of them?”

He sounds upset by the news, which is the opposite of what I expected.

“I think so. What’s wrong?”

“Is that why you can talk to me?” It comes out as a worried whine. “Does this mean I’m not your familiar?”

“I’m sure you’re my familiar!” I hurry to reassure him. “No other animal talks to me like you do.”

He humphs.

“No, I mean it!” I touch his soft forehead in a gentle pet. “From other animals, I get one or two words at best, but you and I have entire conversations! And your vocabulary blows all of them away.”

“Well, of course it does.” He immediately perks back up, living fully in the now in that special way animals have. “I’m special.”

“You sure are.” I hug him, his musky floral smell comforting. “Now let me get ready, and we’ll go have brunch.”

“What’s brunch?” he asks as he follows me into my bedroom.

“It’s breakfast and lunch combined into one meal.”

“That’s horrible!” Finn sounds offended. “Why would you tell me I’m only getting one meal instead of two?”

“Because it’s a bigger meal and you get to eat things you don’t normally eat.”

“Treats?” His ears perk up. “You should have led with that.”

I grin. “I’ll know better next time.”

I get ready in a flash, taking the world’s fastest shower and throwing on comfy weekend clothes, yoga pants and a T-shirt. In no time at all, my little car is puttering down Main Street, with Finn in the front seat and Rune overflowing the back, his head hanging out the window so the wind ripples through his hair. Already the town feels different, more alive. People are enjoying the green, couples sit on blankets while their kids play. A dog catches a Frisbee.

Finn sticks his head out the window to watch, then turns to me. “Do not ever expect me to do that.”

The werewolf huffs a laugh of agreement.

“No Frisbees. Got it.”

A batch of tulips run past, a little boy making meowing noises following, so Severin already got the spell changed to show the walking flowers as cats. That’s so sweet of him to remember.

More people stroll the sidewalks, a mix of humans and fae. Bling It On is full of shopping shadow fae, the little gnomes whirling about in a frenzy to help all of them. There are orcs inside I Touch My Shelf. And there’s even a line outside Slice of Life!

Ferndale Falls feels vital again. It’s everything I hoped for.

I swerve around the infamous pothole and park in the municipal lot. Then we hurry back down the sidewalk to the pizzeria/waffle place. Rune slips away from my peripheral view, which feels like it should be impossible for someone so massive, but he’s good at his job.

Skye and Autumn are already in line when I join them, and I give them big hugs. “I’m so glad you could meet me.”

“Uh, oh.” Autumn points at me. “Is that guy trouble I detect?”

“Yep.”

“How can you have guy trouble if it’s all fa—” Skye catches herself right in time, slapping a hand over her mouth. Then she whispers from between her fingers a muffled, “Sorry.”

Blue streaks out the open front door and stops, hovering in front of my face. “Mayor Wylde! You are a special customer. You do not have to wait!” Her little arms gesture me inside.

Skye’s slip made me realize a crowded and public café might not be the best place to talk about everything. Dammit.

“Excuse me, Blue. Is there a special table where my friends and I can sit without being overheard by other people?” I lean forward and whisper. “We need to talk about magic.”

“Don’t worry. We have special candles for that! We buy them from the shadow fae.”

She escorts us inside to one of the tables along the wall, not batting a tiny eyelash at the fact that Finn comes with us. At her sharp whistle, three pixies fly a purple pillar candle to our table. “When you light this, no one will be able to eavesdrop on you.”

I make the newbie mistake of trying to order a waffle and get a three-minute lecture on how that word shouldn’t exist, because all the best foods are, of course, pizza.

Properly chastened, and trying really freaking hard not to laugh, we order coffee and “sweet pizzas” for the three of us, with un-spiced “meat pizzas” for Finn, which from the menu description should be hamburger patties.

The pixies drop off an insulated carafe of coffee, and by the time we’ve poured and doctored them, the food arrives, teams of pixies flying each plate over to us, the one with the burgers going to Finn on the floor.

They let out happy cheers of “Pizza” and all the pixies in the café echo them. As soon as they leave, I light the candle, and a bubble of silence surrounds us, as if someone turned down the volume on the rest of the world. It’s like Severin’s sound-cloaking spell, but in candle form!

I cut my waffle in two and pour maple syrup on one half and blueberry syrup on the other. The menu promised everything’s made from real ingredients instead of artificial flavors, and I love both, so why choose?

“Okay, spill.” Autumn jabs her fork toward me.

“Witch stuff or guy stuff first?”

“Witch stuff, of course.” Skye looks up from pouring raspberry syrup across her waffle. “That way, we can spend the rest of the time talking about guy stuff.”

“I figured out my magic last night.”

“That’s amazing!” Skye beams at me.

“Congratulations!” Autumn says. “What is it?”

“I can talk to animals.”

“Tell them I’m still special.” Finn looks up from gulping down his burgers.

“Of course, bud,” I assure him, then turn back to my friends. “Finn wants you to know he’s still special.”

“Of course he is.” Then Skye’s voice goes dreamy. “I’d love to be able to talk to animals.”

“It sure would help with the goats,” Autumn says, then points her fork at me. “But how’s it going to help you with these bride trials?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “But it’s got to be better than having no idea about my magic.”

“It definitely gives us a more focused topic to research,” Skye says. “That always helps.”

“Is there anything else we can do about the magic thing right now?” Autumn asks. When the two of us shake our heads, she grins. “So on to the guy stuff!”

I take a big gulp of coffee. “Severin and I slept together.”

“What?” Skye shrieks right as Autumn lets out a stunned, “No!”

“That’s all I need to hear of that.” Finn bumps his head against my calf. “Find me on the green.” He weaves his way across the restaurant before bolting out the front door.

“I thought everything between you two is fake,” Skye says.

“It was. But now it’s… I don’t know.” I play with my ring—my freaking ginormous diamond ring that should mean my fiancé loves me a lot. But it’s all for show. Severin bought this one because it’s makes our fake engagement look real. I shove a bite of waffle into my mouth, the sweet explosion of maple syrup making my tongue happy, even though the rest of me feels frustrated and confused. “Last night felt really special. He surprised me by bringing me here for a date, let me order our food, and talked to me… really talked, stuff about his childhood and life.”

“That sounds perfect!” Skye says. “What’s the problem?”

“We went out to practice my magic, but this time, our powers did this new thing where they combined, and it was all tingly and exciting, and we… well, you know.” I gesture. “But I don’t know if it was just the magic or if it’s something more.”

“What did Severin seem like?” Autumn asks.

“He enjoyed it, but he’s such a good actor. When he looks at me like he cares, it doesn’t look that different than when we’re faking for a crowd.”

“What if that’s because he always means it?” Skye’s eyes go dreamy. “He might really be into you.”

“Maybe?” I poke at my waffle with the tines of my fork.

Autumn puts her hand on mine and gives me one of her serious looks, her red eyebrows drawing together, her freckled nose scrunching. “Do you want things between you two to be fake?”

“No,” I whisper, then clear my throat and speak at a regular volume. “But it’s not completely up to me, is it? Fake is all he wants. Or maybe he wants ‘fake plus benefits.’”

“Is ‘fake plus benefits’ even a thing?” Skye asks.

I give her a grimace-smile and shrug.

Autumn asks, “Okay, spill the goods. How was it?”

“I’ll say this much.” My lips curl. “There sure as hell wasn’t anything fake about the orgasms he gave me.”

Skye gasps, “Orgasms, as in plural?”

Autumn shoots me a questioning look and holds up two fingers.

I shake my head and hold up three.

They both shriek with laughter, and I join them, already feeling tons better. Chatting with my besties is exactly what I needed.

Whatever this is with Severin, I’ll figure it out.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Severin

Whatever this is with Hannah, I need answers to figure it out.

And Lukendevener certainly isn’t helping. The dragon stares at me for several prolonged moments, his face completely impassive but for one lifted eyebrow. Finally, he says, “Can you repeat the question?”

Goddess, why did I give up being feared? If I were feared, I could simply torture the answer out of him instead of being the one tortured. And make no mistake, talking to him about Hannah is the very worst sort of torture.

I grind my teeth together in frustration, then force myself to bite out the words. Again. “If two people combine the essence of their magic, does it cause any type of reaction?”

“Hmm.” He begins to pace back and forth across the central area of his library, his wings brushing the hanging clusters of wisteria flowers and setting them swaying.

Since I couldn’t sleep, I stayed up most of the night researching everything I could find on Hannah’s magical power. Fatigue means I have even less patience than usual, and his dithering is getting on my last nerve.

“When you say ‘reaction,’ what exactly do you mean?”

“A physical reaction.”

“That’s hardly edifying.” The dragon halts, his tail swishing back and forth. “I can’t answer your question if I don’t have enough details.”

“A sexual reaction.” I slam my hands onto the table and push to standing. “There. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Not particularly, but it is much more specific.” He stalks off, heading for one of the labyrinthine hallways.

“Where are you going?”

“To search for Cassius’s studies from 1649.”

“You don’t know where they are? This is your library. How can you not know where they are?”

Instead of answering, he disappears around a corner. I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. Who knows when I’ll see him again. Ten minutes? A day? A year?

“I can’t stay here,” I mutter, stalking from the room.

Armed with answers or not, it’s time to find Hannah.

The rich smells of baked goods and berries tease my nose right as loud cries of “Pizza” assault my ears. Slice of Life is full of a mix of humans and shadow fae, with more of my people lined up outside the door.

And who can blame them? The poorly staffed kitchen at the palace continues to subject us to porridge that is somehow both watery and lumpy. If this had happened back when I was leading battles, I’d assume the chef is a rebel with a dastardly plot to overthrow me via inadequate breakfasts.

Rune gives me an “all-clear” nod from where he stands against the back wall of the restaurant, his eyes cool and assessing as they constantly scan the crowd.

“King Severin.” Blue flies toward me, her little face glowing, literally, with both magic and happiness. “See how the pixies thrive! Everyone agrees we have all the best pizzas.”

“You’ve done well,” I admit.

“Will you join your betrothed?”

At a table only a few feet away, Hannah lifts a bite of waffle to her mouth, leaving a smear of purple syrup on her lips. Goddess, I want to lick it from her.

I move forward, crossing into a spell of silence. The sounds of the café fall away to be replaced by Hannah’s startled gasp as she catches sight of me.

“Severin.” Those big brown eyes stare up at me, full of questions. That distracting mouth glistens with syrup.

Before rational thought can stop me, my thumb swipes over the plumpness of her bottom lip, gathering her sweetness. Holding eye contact, I suck it into my mouth, berries and sugar and Hannah bursting across my tongue.

“You two need to get a room,” Autumn says.

“I don’t know. They certainly didn’t need a room last night.” Skye’s eyes go wide, and she slaps a hand over her mouth, whispering a muffled, “I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

Hannah told her friends about last night. My lips curl. Perhaps seducing her for the year will be even more likely than I thought.

Yet none of my plans will matter if Hannah doesn’t win one of the bride trials. I turn to her. “We must practice your magic.”

“But I know what it is now.”

“So you have full mastery of it?” I arch an eyebrow. “Can you assure me you’ll win the next trial?”

Her mouth opens, ready to say yes, but she lets out a gust of air. “You’re right.”

“Of course I am.”

She gulps more of her hot beverage, and before she can set the mug down, I take it from her hands. What is this drink humans seem so addicted to? I sip at it, enjoying the initial bite of its bitter earthy flavor, which is soon mellowed by milky sweetness. “Not bad.”

“You take that back.” Autumn clutches her cup between her palms. “Coffee is the nectar of the gods.”

“It’s too sweet for that,” I say.

“Here.” Hannah retrieves her mug, drinks the last of it, and pours dark brown liquid into it for me. “Try it black.”

This is more like it! The rich bitterness rolls across my tongue without being undercut. I grunt in approval and take another drink.

When she stands, I snag the uneaten wedge of waffle from her plate and rip into it with my fangs, the maple syrup mixing with the acerbic bite of the coffee in a delightful way.

“First my coffee. Now my waffle.” Hannah stands, hands on hips, her eyes glittering with amusement. “What are you going to take next?”

“Everything.”

She grins as if I’ve made a joke, but I did not speak in jest.

I want everything from her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Hannah

Holding me close, Severin flies us over the forest to the north of town.

Oh, god. Is he heading for the waterfall? My cheeks heat as my butterflies take flight at the memory of what we did there.

Instead, he angles toward his palace, and I exhale in relief as he carries me over the outer wall to touch down in the middle of the garden.

“Why are we here?” I ask.

“Since the bride trials start from here, I thought you should practice in this location to become familiar with the assets available to you.”

“And by assets…”

“I mean animals.” He gestures toward the beautiful garden. “I want you to find me an animal.”

“This is why we left Finn at the town green, isn’t it?” Not that my familiar minded. He still doesn’t seem very keen on flying, no matter how many times I tell him it’s fun.

Severin nods. “I want you to focus on animals you don’t share a bond with.”

I spin in a slow circle. Birds sing in the trees, though I don’t spot any other creatures. But if the birds are singing, why am I not hearing words? I walk closer to a cherry tree caught in the height of bloom, even though it’s summer instead of spring. From what I can tell, Severin’s plants don’t need to follow strict seasons.

Closing my eyes, I focus on the birdsong, the high trill of joyful notes slowly changing from a tune into snatches of words. “I’m here! Chirp. Cheep. I’m here!”

“Hello,” I call up to the tree. “I’m here, too.”

“Hello.” A robin hops into view along a branch, its red breast puffed out as it tilts its head from side to side, eyeing me. “No wings can talk.”

Aww. Is that what they call humans?

“Yes, I can.” I’m doing it! I give a mental fist pump as I grin up at him, trying to look friendly. Then I realize a smile probably means nothing to a bird. I lift my hand, palm up. “Would you like to come here?”

“No.” Its head twists, the beak opening to preen along the top of one wing.

When my arm drops, Severin grips my wrist, maneuvering my hand back up into position. “Make it come to you. That should be part of your magic.”

“Okay. Sure. No prob.” Only big prob, because the butterflies are back, and all I can focus on is Severin standing right behind me, so close I can feel the heat radiating from him. One tiny shift backward, and—

“You’re not going to improve unless you practice,” he growls in my ear. “And it’s going to take a lot of improvement if you want to win the competition.”

His words hit me like a cold shower, jerking me out of my tingly daze. Shit, he’s right. That amazing Ferndale Falls of this morning? I have to win one of the trials, or it goes up in smoke.

I stare up at the robin. “Come here.”

Ignoring me, it lifts its wing to dig into the feathers underneath.

I try over and over, getting more frustrated every time.

“You’re not tapping into your magic fully.” Severin steps even closer, wrapping an arm around me to splay his fingers over my stomach.

The butterflies throw themselves forward, as if trying to burst free to reach his hand.

“I’m going to call up my magic,” he growls into my ear and pulls me backward until our bodies are flush. “Feel it… let it guide you to yours.”

Oh, I feel it alright, but I’m pretty sure “it” in this case is his erection, and it’s short-circuiting my brain. Orgasms, my lady bits whisper to me. We really, really like orgasms. The butterflies add an excited “Whee!”

Then his magic swells behind me in a punch of power that steals my breath. Severin’s strength is staggering.

My magic stirs within my chest, blossoming open. I let it fill me, let it seep up my throat, let it coat my tongue with command. “Come to me.”

With a startled squawk, the robin falls from the branch, its wings snapping out to turn it into a controlled glide. Little bird feet tickle across my palm as it plops down, its tail feathers trailing down the side of my hand.

“No here,” it says and pecks at my wrist.

“Oww. Stop that,” I say.

It freezes solid, and I immediately feel bad. “You can move,” I blurt. “Just don’t hurt me.”

“Practice,” Severin murmurs against my ear.

I work through a list of commands, having the robin lift its wings, then refold them. Making it stand on first one leg, then the next. It’s all small, harmless stuff, but I don’t like it—I don’t like making it do things it doesn’t want to do.

“You can go now.” I lift my hand higher. As it launches into the air, winging quickly away, I call after it, “Thank you.”

“You need more practice.” Severin steps away from me.

“You’re right, I do.” I turn to face him. “But I don’t want to use my magic to force animals. They’re still thinking creatures.” Finn’s got as much intelligence as anyone I’ve met, and more personality than a few of my exes. Having him as my familiar has only proven something I’ve always thought: animals are people, too.

“How are you going to get them to do what you want?” Severin scowls.

“I have an idea…”

Ten minutes later, I stand near a small grove of fruit trees. Severin’s shadows form a tray in the air, holding a collection of freshly caught grasshoppers.

“Bugs!” I cup my hands in a megaphone around my mouth and call up to the birds I can feel hiding in the trees. “I’ve got bugs to share!”

A bluebird sticks its head out from behind an apple leaf. “Bugs?”

“Yep.” I hold up a hand. “Come and sit here, and I’ll give you a nice juicy bug.”

It flutters over, and one of Severin’s shadows offers up a grasshopper, so I don’t have to touch it. Thank god, because bugs are so not my thing.

The bluebird snaps up its treat, its head tipping back as it opens its beak wide and lets gravity do some of the work. Then it flares its wings and yells, “Bugs!”

The rustling of wings fills the air as bluebirds come from all over the garden to settle along my outstretched arms. Then my friend the robin joins them, and I have Severin give him a couple extra bugs to make up for earlier. Severin’s shadows reach outward in all directions, catching grasshoppers to keep up with demand.

I stand in the center of it all, a witch covered in birds, my magic singing through me. It’s chaotic and noisy… and one of the most amazing things I’ve ever experienced. When we run out of grasshoppers, the birds flit away, one after the other, the robin leaving last.

I’m still riding that high when Severin’s words pull me back down to Earth. “More practice.”

Once I determine there aren’t any animals in the garden other than a few field mice, chipmunks, and a rabbit, Severin takes me flying again. He skims over the treetops, moving as slowly as possible, his shadow wings silent. “Find a larger animal.”

I close my eyes and reach out with my magic. Dozens of little blips ping on my animal radar, birds and mice and squirrels. Then I sense something larger. “There!” I point.

We swoop down, startling a doe, who takes off running with a flick of her white tail, no matter how much I call out that I won’t hurt her.

Severin launches into the air again, and I stretch outward with my magic.

First, I find a badger, who waddles out from underneath a rhododendron, swinging his black and white head from side to side and muttering, “Want eat worms. Where worms?” His sharp claws dig into the mulch-covered ground. “You talk. You give worms.”

Note to self: the entire animal kingdom very motivated by food. God, I can just picture me wearing cargo pants with each pocket stuffed with different kinds of animal treats. Or walking around with a sack of grasshoppers, scattering them behind me like the Johnny Appleseed of bugs.

I chuckle, and the badger snorts in disgust and wanders into a thicket of ferns, still muttering.

Next, I find a raccoon at the edge of a wide stream, its little arms wet up to the shoulders. It crunches into a crayfish, its whiskers wiggling as it chews. “Num num.”

“That’s pretty good, huh?”

“Yes.” The clever little hands dunk the crayfish in the water a couple of times, rolling it around like the raccoon’s washing its food. Then it takes another crackling bite. “Num num.”

“Are crayfish the best, or is there something you like better?”

It drops its little hands from its mouth, staring at me from its bandit-mask eyes. “Walnuts.”

“Good to know.” I turn to Severin, grinning so wide my cheeks hurt, but I can’t stop. “Raccoons love walnuts.” First item for my new animal-treats cargo pants.

We spend the rest of the day exploring the forest, and I talk to porcupines, rabbits, and even a skunk, spending most of that conversation arguing about not getting sprayed.

By the time evening falls, I’m worn out, sagging in Severin’s arms as he flies me tirelessly back toward town.

“One more,” he murmurs in my ear, his voice velvety and rich. “Find me one more, even larger animal, and we’ll call it a day.”

Closing my eyes, I let my magic spool outward in a spiral. It’s so hard to not be distracted by the multitude of small animals that it takes what feels like ages to spot something larger.

“That way.” I point. “There’s something there.”

Severin flies us to a break in the treetops, coming to a hover over a small glen. Blackberry bushes line one side, their tops picked over, though their sides hang heavy with deep-purple berries. A huge black bear lazes on the ground beside them, enjoying the last rays of sun, and two cubs roll and tussle across the clearing, rearing up onto their hind legs to face off like a couple of tiny boxers as they swat at each other.

I remain quiet, watching in awe as the mother says, “You two, play nice.”

“Yes, Ma!” the little ones chorus, racing over to chase each other up and down a tree trunk, claws scrabbling against the bark.

“Are you going to talk to them?” Severin murmurs directly into my ear.

I shake my head. They’re wild and carefree, their little family perfectly content. Anything I did right now would only disturb them. I whisper, “Take me back to town.”

Orange streaks the sky as the sun starts to set, painting the bottoms of the fluffy clouds with one last splash of color. Lights appear as Ferndale Falls comes into view, dim spots of radiance that grow brighter as the sunlight fades. By the time we set down in the middle of the green, the birds are singing their last songs of evening.

“Finn?” I call out.

Severin stops me with a hand on my arm. “Feel for him. Call to him with your magic instead.”

“More practice?” I quirk my lips.

“Of course.”

He’s right. I fight off fatigue and call upon my magic, sending it rippling outward. “Finn’s not on the green.”

“Where is he?”

I frown, pushing harder, finding mice, cats, birds, squirrels, and the occasional dog. But where’s my little fox buddy? I keep going, searching for the familiar feel of Finn.

There!

My eyes snap open. “He’s in the woods behind my cottage, waiting for me to come home.”

Severin smiles, sharp and handsome, taking my breath away. “I knew you had power.”

“Thank you.” We need to talk about everything that happened last night, but I don’t want to disrupt the ease we’ve found with each other today. We’ve gone from awkward to comfortable, and I know it’s a bit cowardly, but I really don’t want to make things weird again.

Plus, it’s less than two days to the next trial. I need to focus on learning my magic so I can win. “Today’s been such a huge help.”

“We’ll practice again tomorrow evening once you’re off work,” he says.

“Sounds great.”

With this breakthrough I’ve had, I’m going to win this next trial. I just know it!

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Hannah

Oh, shit. I have no idea how to win this next trial.

All my confidence of the last two days dries up like spilled water in the Sahara.

When Naomi and the other representatives placed their hands on the bridal crystal, it transported everyone here, to the waterfall. Then a scroll appeared in front of Varyn, and he read, “Today’s trial is the trial of strength. Although time was not a factor in the first trial—”

I squirm as everyone looks at me.

“—it will be in today’s, because strength and speed go hand in hand. Contestants, your task is to retrieve the jewel from the heart of the waterfall and present it to King Severin. The successful candidate with the best time will win.”

As soon as Varyn stops reading, magic shivers through the air. A gem as big as my fist appears in the middle of the waterfall, glowing a brilliant purple. It’s a good ten feet above the pond’s surface and completely encased in rushing water.

Only one of us will have an easy time of it, and Meloria flashes me a superior smirk, clearly having realized the same.

Floating hour glasses full of purple sand appear by each contestant’s head.

“What are you going to do?” Naomi asks. “How can animal magic help with this?”

She’s been nothing but a cheerleader, proud I discovered my magic, but she’s right. This feels dire.

“I don’t know,” I say.

When I sneak a look at Severin, he’s scowling so hard I almost expect a storm cloud to appear above his head, rumbling with thunder. He also thinks I have no way to win.

“I could jump from your shoulders,” Finn offers. “I might be able to catch it in my teeth.”

“I think it’s too high for that, little bud,” I say. “But it’s a good idea. We’ll hold it in reserve.”

Calling up my magic, I send a wave of it rolling outward. I sure as hell can’t win if I don’t have any idea what animals are around. There are fish in the pond, but they’re not the massive salmon that might have a slim hope of ascending the falls.

“As the winner of the previous trial, Elowen will go first,” Varyn announces.

As soon as she moves, her hour glass tips over, the purple sand pouring.

The tall wood nymph crosses the shallow pool at the side of the falls to approach the rock cliff right where Severin and I had sex. Her arms and legs lengthen like spreading branches, giving her tremendous reach, and her fingers and toes also grow, fitting into cracks and giving her solid holds as she climbs surprisingly quickly.

Ignoring her, I send another pulse of magic outward, looking for any larger animal. Could a bear get the gem? Bears can climb, right?

Then I sense it. A presence high in one of the trees, a consciousness that knows diving and the silver gleam of fish scales. It’s one of the large predatory birds.

When Elowen reaches about five feet above the gem, she launches sideways, diving into the rush of water to plunge into the pool below. She rises like a cork popping to the surface of the water, holding the gem up triumphantly. She swims back to the bank, and the second she hands the gem to Severin, her hour glass freezes, marking her time.

The gem, a huge piece of amethyst, glowing with magic, disappears from his hands to return to the waterfall. He holds my gaze, the burning question filling his eyes: What are you going to do?

It’s probably too much to get across with a look, but I try anyway, staring at Severin and thinking: I’m going to talk to a bird!

There’s a chime, and a scroll appears in front of Varyn. “Elowen’s time is twenty-seven seconds. Who would like to go next?”

“I will.” Meloria leaps into the air, and her hour glass inverts. Her shadow wings stream from her back as she streaks toward the falls, far faster than Elowen. Damn. She’s going to be so freaking hard to beat!

I tip my head backward, aiming my voice straight up. “I will give you all of the fish you want if you get that glowing gem for me.”

People turn to shoot me puzzled looks, but I ignore them.

“All of the fish. Big fat fish from the ocean. They’re yummier than the ones you have here.”

“Is she all right?” the wood nymph representative whispers to Naomi.

Clapping breaks my attention as Meloria’s representative applauds her.

Damn. Her hour glass has barely any sand in the bottom.

Varyn reads from a new scroll, “Meloria is currently the winner, with a time of thirteen seconds.”

Shit, that’s going to be hard to beat. But it doesn’t matter. I have to try.

“Will you do it?” I shout upward.

“Yes!” Comes a piercing cry.

My magic surges inside me. I don’t wait for Varyn to give me permission to go. I scream, “Now!”

My hour glass tips over right as a bald eagle—a mother-effing bald eagle—dives from the tree, headed straight for the waterfall. Eight-foot wide wings snap open, and its feet plunge into the water, gripping the amethyst in wicked claws.

I sprint for Severin, yelling, “Here! Bring it over here!”

With another piercing cry of yes, the eagle dives again, swooping over our heads, the downbeat of its wings blowing my hair back as the gem falls into Severin’s hands.

“I did it!” I fist pump the air. “I freaking did it!”

The sand in my hour glass looks miniscule. My time has to be better than Meloria’s. It just has to! Joy fills me. This is it! I’ve done it! I’ve saved Ferndale Falls.

Severin’s lips twitch, and he gives me a little nod. He thinks so as well.

I can barely breathe, bouncing from foot to foot.

The scroll pops into Varyn’s hands, and his face goes impassive as he glances at it. Oh, no. A spurt of doubt stops my triumphant jiggle. He’d look happy if the news is good, right?

The shadow fae clears his throat and holds the parchment spread open in front of him. “Meloria and Hannah are tied with a time of thirteen seconds.”

“What does that mean?” I look at Severin. “What does a tie mean? Do we do it again? I can probably get the eagle to go again.”

“No, that’s not how this works,” Severin says. “If Ruby wins, everything’s fine.”

“And if Ruby doesn’t win?”

He scowls so hard at Meloria I expect the other woman to turn to stone and crumple away into dust.

No such luck, more’s the pity. Instead, she stands there grinning and stroking the handle of her knife. It’s seriously creepy.

“If Ruby doesn’t win,” Severin growls. “You and Meloria must fight.”

I gulp, swallowing the stone lodged in my throat so that it drops into my stomach like a lead anvil.

Shit.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Severin

Hannah’s face blanches, going so pale my shadows leap outward, ready to catch her if she faints. Yet my betrothed is made of sterner stuff. She locks her knees and stays upright, whispering to me, “I promised the eagle lots of salmon. Make sure it gets them.”

“Stop worrying about the damned bird,” I growl.

Finn races over to her, yipping and jumping up to set his front feet on her thighs.

She rubs his head. “It’s going to be okay, little bud.”

He whines, licking at her hand, not believing the false cheer in her voice any more than I do.

Ruby must win.

Hannah is many things, stubborn, determined, resourceful, but she’s not a combat fighter. Unlike Meloria, who’s fought in many a battle. Even though the fight will be unarmed and only to the first strike, I know Meloria. She’ll make sure to land a punishing blow.

A growl reverberates from deep in my chest, my lips pulling back from my fangs. No. I refuse to allow her to touch a single hair on Hannah’s head!

I exchange a look with the gnome, bouncing my coin purse on my palm. I have no plans to marry her, but if she can win this trial, I’ll make sure she’s amply rewarded.

She gives me the slightest nod back, her light-green face serious. Gnomes don’t mess around when it comes to precious metals. Ruby will give it her all.

If only there were some way I could help her…

My mind turns over everything I know about the trial, looking for weaknesses to exploit. All my years leading devious shadow fae stand me in good stead, because the idea comes, flashing bright, sharp as a lightning strike. Nowhere in the rules did it say I have to remain in the same place each time to accept the gem. Doing so is implied but not stipulated. Goddess, I should have thought of this before Hannah took her turn. If I’d done so, we wouldn’t be in this mess.

Cursing myself, I launch into the air and fly over to hang right in front of the waterfall, the gem only a couple of feet away.

Meloria’s cry of protest comes from behind me, but Varyn’s voice rises over hers. “There’s nothing forbidding it in the rules.”

Ruby drops to hands and knees, her hour glass tipping over. Palms flat to the ground, she opens her mouth and sings to it, a deep, throbbing song that should be impossible from one so small. But the melody comes from her magic, not her body, and gnomes hold a power like no other.

Deep chiming notes rise from the ground, as if a giant swings a hammer inside a rock chamber far below.

Ruby sings again, a demanding tune, one fist thumping against the ground with a percussive beat.

The sand trickles down her hour glass. It feels as if an hour must have passed. Goddess, why isn’t the gnome going faster?

Hannah holds Finn to her chest and leans against Naomi, who’s got an arm wrapped around her shoulders. I’m struck again by my betrothed’s ability to form such strong connections with others.

Ruby slams her fist into the ground, her voice echoing like a gong.

I spin just in time. Rock punches outward from the cliff, shooting the gem out of the waterfall and straight into my hands.

A loud chime fills the air as I fly back to Hannah, and a new scroll appears in front of Varyn. “With a time of twelve seconds, Ruby has won the trial of strength!”

“There, see?” Naomi rubs her hand up and down Hannah’s upper arm. “No fighting.”

“Yeah, but no winning either.”

Hannah’s words stay with me as the waterfall fades from view to be replaced by my garden. All of us reappear around the bridal stone.

“Why are you doing this, Severin?” Meloria strides over to me, her shadow tattoos shifting as power rolls from her. “Think of how strong we are. Think of what we could do together. We could re-conquer all of the realms we gave up when the Dark God left.”

Her offer isn’t the slightest bit tempting. I made my decision the moment I touched a living tree for the first time—no more war, no more destruction. I wanted life.

Now that I’ve lived on Earth these past weeks, I crave even more. Hannah has shown me the joy of having someone look upon me with admiration. I cup her cheek and meet her beautiful, gold-flecked brown eyes, so full of warmth I long to bask in them.

I face Meloria, scowl firmly in place. “Dead realms like Markan, you mean? What are those compared to this?” My slow gesture encompasses the beauty of my garden.

Meloria glances around quickly, then gives a dismissive snort. “Flowers, Severin? Really? We could rule all of Faerie!”

I send a shadow racing out into my garden to pluck a heavy bloom. When it brings the pink peony to my hand, I turn to Hannah and tuck it behind her ear. I say, “Flowers carry many meanings. They’re beautiful and sweet smelling. They also indicate a plant is healthy and ready to propagate. Flowers symbolize life and the promise of a future.”

Meloria sneers at my betrothed, her eyes flashing venom as her hand drops to the hilt of her knife.

I step between them. My shadows stir, ready to form a shield around Hannah.

The shadow fae makes a noise of frustrated disgust and leaps into the air, her startled minion flapping after her.

A cold truth burned in her eyes. I need to warn Rune and Luna to step up their vigilance. Meloria has practiced restraint until now, because she assumed she would win the second trial. Losing has put her back up against the wall, making winning trial three more crucial than ever. She will make a try for Hannah in the next few days. I feel it in the blacker parts of my soul.

The realization trickles ice down my spine, spurring a new idea. The werewolves will not be alone.

I will also protect Hannah.

“Severin!” Surprise colors Hannah’s voice when I enter her office two days later. I’ve seen it from the window many times, having spent several days crouched there, watching over her, yet this is the first time I’ve come inside.

The room has high ceilings, crown molding, and an antique wooden desk so large it looks as if the room was built around it, because there’s no way it fit through the door. All of it’s suitably regal for her position as mayor.

Yet I find her teetering on top of a too-short stepladder, her entire body straining upward toward a light fixture.

My shadows snap out, coiling around her and steadying her. “Why are you doing this yourself?” I frown at Rune.

He stares back, completely unperturbed. “If I focus on that, it means I’m not focused on protecting her.”

I scowl but can’t disagree.

“It’s just a light bulb,” Hannah says. “I do this all the time.”

“You should have people for this.”

“I will.” She gives the bulb a couple last turns, and whispers under her breath, “Hopefully.”

Ah, the town’s money issues. Fortunately, I have good news.

“I’ve found another business for you.” Technically, Shadow found it, but he only did so because I paid him to, so I’m taking the credit. If there’s one thing being king taught me, it’s always take the credit. “A pub.”

My prevarication is well worth it. Hannah’s face lights up as she jumps off the stepstool. “Oh, that’s wonderful news! The town hasn’t had a bar in years.”

Her good humor warms me. After the disappointment of the second trial, she’s done nothing but work and practice magic. It’s rather nice to have this chance to please her.

I escort her out to the town green, where the werepanther and orc wait. Although the orc has the same long flowing hair, pointed ears, and sharp features as shadow fae, he’s seven-feet tall and more heavily muscled, with green skin and tusks instead of fangs.

“This is Thorvinn, son of the pubkeeper in Moon Blade Village.” Shadow grins widely as he makes introductions. “This is King Severin and Mayor Wylde.”

Before we make it across the grassy expanse, both herds of walking tulips race over to us.

“I wish I could talk to them like I can animals,” Hannah says.

“I can make my wishes known.” Leaning over, I brush my fingers across their soft flower heads and send little pulses of healing plant magic into each of them. “You need to rest more. You’re not supposed to run around so much. From now on, I want you to spend all night, every night, rooted in your beds.” I straighten up and point. “Now, go and take a nap.”

Heads drooping like scolded children, the tulips scurry off to their original flower beds, little root feet sinking into the soil.

“I thought you were supposed to be a warmonger.” Thorvinn frowns.

“Oh, I was,” I admit freely, which makes Hannah turn her concerned eyes on me. “But I’m reformed now, and those flowers are my creation.” What I don’t say aloud is it does no good to wage war against plants. They’re too easily hurt and can’t fight back. Where’s the satisfaction in that?

My betrothed soon smiles again as we meet my best conjurers outside of the largest empty building on Main Street. A wave of magic flows outward, rejuvenating the siding until it’s the rich green of orc skin. A new sign forms, decorated with a tankard and the pub’s name, The Thirsty Tusk.

The transformation continues inside, rushing across the wide room and leaving behind gleaming hardwood floors, paneled walls, and a long wooden bar that spans the back of the room. With further instructions from Thorvinn, wood tables and chairs pop into being, pewter tankards and taps fill the bar, and the entire place becomes the perfect re-creation of a Faerie orc pub.

The others go upstairs to turn the apartments into places orcs will find comfortable, but I catch Hannah’s arm to keep her with me.

“The initial rent for the pub, with a bit more since the orcs want to live in the apartments.” I press two gold coins into Hannah’s hand, and she beams up at me, radiating joy like the sun appearing from behind a cloud.

I step closer, pulled to her light, eager to kiss her again. Lukendevener has given me no answers about whether entangling our magic caused us to have sex.

But it doesn’t matter. Our magic isn’t mingling in this instant, and it’s clear she wants me, desire flaring in her eyes.

Goddess, how I crave her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Hannah

How did Severin know getting more new businesses, and their extra rent payments, is exactly the pick-me-up I needed after losing the second trial two days ago? With the money he just pressed into my hand, I can finally buy the replacement hoses the volunteer fire department has been asking about for the last two years. Those hoses will keep everyone in town safer.

And it’s all thanks to Severin, my fake fiancé, who I’m totally staying super far away from starting right now. Yep, any second now, my body will respond to the SOS my brain is sending and move away from him. Any. Second. Now.

Shit. I’m not moving.

Because those intense green eyes of his are locked on my lips, making them tingle like he’s already touching them. And caffeine-bender butterflies are zipping around my stomach so quickly I can’t catch my breath.

You need to focus, Hannah. You have to win the third trial. No distractions. No sexy times.

It’s been so hard to remember that. Especially since we’re still spending every second of every evening together. Severin flies me out to isolated areas of the forest and has me practice talking to larger animals, since they’re more likely to be helpful in the third trial. I’ve now bribed a bobcat, another eagle, and a black bear with salmon. It turns out it really is a universally loved fish, and since none of the animals can get it until fall, I’ve become this summer’s salmon supplier. I have two whole fish thawing in my fridge right this very second, ready for tonight’s flight.

He’s so patient through it all! It must be incredibly boring listening to me have so many one-sided conversations. But he doesn’t complain, just waits and flies me to the next location.

Ugh, those flights. That’s when it’s hardest to remain focused, because flying is exciting, and I spend the entire time pressed against Severin and feeling how strong his body is, how carefully he holds me, his shadows wrapping everywhere and reminding me of all the other things he can use them for…

“Hannah,” Severin growls, his voice so husky it strokes across my skin, raising goosebumps.

Okay, maybe some sexy times are okay? Aren’t there athletes who say orgasms improve their performance? I bet that’s me! I bet I can work even better after a few orgasms… or a hundred. With Severin, any number seems likely.

I sway toward him…

Shadow appears out of thin air only a few feet away.

“Cat,” Severin spits. “We should bell you.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Shadow’s smile shows an awful lot of teeth as he extends his hand. “My finder’s fee.”

Severin forks over two gold coins. Then when Thorvinn comes back downstairs, Severin arranges for the orc to have access to human money so he can open the pub this evening.

Severin’s really putting his all behind helping Ferndale Falls. It clearly means a lot to him to be able to stay on Earth. I keep thinking about all of this in terms of what it means for me and the town. But that agreement we signed clearly stated that each party gets something out of this deal. The shadow fae need this fake marriage, too.

Guilt crashes over me. I really, really need to win this next trial. Not just to save my small town, but for Severin.

He turns back to me, accomplishment filling his emerald eyes, making him look more lickable than ever.

Focus, Hannah. You totally need to focus.

My lady bits give a sad sigh. For just once in my life, I wish I weren’t so damned dependable.

I moan all of this to my besties the next evening, when I join them for a girls’ night out at the new pub.

“Look at all the progress you’ve made,” Skye says. “In less than two weeks, you went from failing one of these bride trials to almost winning. You’re making huge leaps!”

“Yeah!” Autumn slams her tankard down on the bar for emphasis. “You’ve got this. You’re going to win the next one!”

I squint at her. “Are you drunk?”

“Not yet.” She takes another pull. “But I am, as they say, a bit squiffy.”

“Who says that?” Skye giggles. “You need to come by the library and get some books written this century.”

“I don’t think I drank that much.” I stare into my tankard, closing first one eye and then the other. Yep, the liquid’s only half gone, not drained. “So why does it feel like I drank the whole thing?”

“Autumn’s been making the cereal-milk cocktails for the Witch Bitch Spicy Book Club kind of weak.” Skye gives a little burp. “We’re all lightweights now.”

“I have not.” Autumn tries to point, sways on her stool, and slaps that hand to the bar to steady herself. “Okay, maybe I have.”

“No,” Rune’s deep voice says. “Orc ale’s stronger than human beer.”

“Ohhh.” I grin at him. “But the tankards are huge! I thought it was like Oktoberfest, where they make sure the beer’s weaker.”

“The tankards are orc sized.” The werewolf’s lips twitch.

“Orcs do lots of things… bigger.” Skye waves a hand toward Thorvinn, who lifts a cask into place and pounds a tap into the top, his shoulders bulging.

“Is that a euphemism?” I ask. “I’m too tipsy to tell.”

“Yes.”

“God, would you look at him?” Autumn sighs, cheek resting on one hand as she gazes down the bar at Thorvinn. “Just look at the way he fills out his shirt!”

Rune frowns down at her. Then his eyes snap away as another group of people walk through the front door.

Opening night at The Thirsty Tusk is a hit, and there are quite a few humans mixed into the shadow fae, with some wood nymphs, pixies, and gnomes sprinkled around. The only orcs are the ones working the bar, though.

Jared, wearing non-cycling clothes for a change and looking good, chats up a wood nymph man with oak-leaf hair. When he comes over to the bar to order them another round, I ask, “Things going well?”

“He likes my legs.”

“They’re freaking tree trunks of muscle!” I grin. “Of course he likes them.”

Jared smiles back. “Thanks, Hannah. All these new people are great. The dating pool was kind of nonexistent before.”

I nod. There were almost no single men around our age in town before the fae arrived.

Jared heads back to his date, and a group of pixies fly over, ordering tiny thimbles of cider that they down with loud cheers.

I even spot Luke propping up one of the walls, his folded wings rising above his horned head.

“Hey, Skye,” I tap her arm with the back of my hand and point him out. “That’s the dragon with the huge library.”

“Is that a euphemism?” She squints toward him.

“Probably.” Naomi once told me something specific about dragon peen, but I can’t remember what it is. “But also literally. Big scholar. Lots of books. Just your type.”

My friend turns pink and looks down at her drink. “Yeah, but I’m probably not his type.”

“What do you mean?” I wave my hand up and down, taking in her amazing pinup-girl dress from the 1950s that perfectly shows off all her curves.

“He’d be lucky to have you,” Autumn adds, flipping her long red hair back over her shoulder to keep it out of her tankard, her bangles jangling. “Super lucky.”

I catch Rune staring at her, a strange look on his face. She follows my gaze and squints at him. “Anyone ever tell you that you look like Jason Momoa?”

“Who?” He frowns down at her and crosses his arms over his chest. Whether he means for it to happen or not, his biceps flex, straining the fabric of his Henley.

“It’s a compliment.” She pats his arm, her hand lingering. “Nice.”

“Very nice.” I take another sip, the malty ale smooth on my tongue. “Not as nice as Severin, though.”

As if called into being by my words, he appears out of the crowd, his hair flowing around his shoulders in utter perfection. How the heckity heck does he fly everywhere and have such great hair?

“Magic,” he says to me.

Oops! I break into giggles and slap a hand over my mouth. I said that out loud.

His eyes narrow, and he scowls all around. “This is far too crowded.”

“No.” I throw my arms wide. “This is a hit! Lots of business. Lots of customers. Lots of people having fun!”

“Lots of people far too close to you,” he growls. “Any one of whom could be Meloria wearing a glamour.”

“Oh.” Shit, this fae stuff is hard to keep track of.

“I’m taking you home.” His arm goes around me, right as Jared walks back past us.

“Hey. It’s Hannah’s fiancé!”

Everyone turns to look at us.

I glide my hand up Severin’s chest and glance up at him through my eyelashes. Then I bat them a few times. Ha! Even tipsy, I’m a great actress. The best. Send me an Emmy.

I say, “We need to put on a show.”

Autumn’s expression goes horrified, and she starts flapping her arms around in warning, like the town’s only stoplight broke and she’s directing traffic.

Oops. My voice might have been an eensy bit loud. My next words come out as a whisper-yell. Much better. Super discreet. “We need to fa—”

Severin’s mouth crashes over mine, hot and insistent and stealing all of my ability to form words. His hands splay across my lower back, pulling me closer, and my butterflies dive straight for my lady bits, making everything tingle.

I moan against his lips, opening for his tongue. No matter how this started, there’s sure as hell nothing fake about my response to him.

Whoops and cheers come from all around us, the pixies the loudest of all.

We pull apart, and the heated look in Severin’s intense green eyes makes my knees go weak. I always thought that saying was BS, but nope! One-hundred percent accurate, if it’s the right guy.

I’m still staring up at him like a deer caught in the headlights when a bar fight breaks out a few feet away.

Severin’s shadows pick me up and move me aside right as a punch goes whistling past my head. His fist jackhammers forward, crashing into the nose of the stranger who tried to hit me.

As the man crumples to the ground, his face and hair flicker, changing shape and color until…

“That’s Meloria’s representative!”

Severin growls, a feral sound of warning that flashes his fangs.

A woman comes stumbling toward us, arms pinwheeling. Instead of catching her, Severin’s shadows form a shield around me. She bounces off and sneers—the expression is familiar, even if the face isn’t, and contains more malice than a stranger should feel. Somehow, I know she’s Meloria.

“Severin! It’s her!”

“I know.” He catches my gaze. “Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

Something flickers in his eyes, too quickly for me to tease out its meaning.

Then the world goes hazy as he cocoons me in his shadows. Chaos whirls all around, but nothing touches me, and even sound is muffled. It feels like being wrapped in a cotton-candy hug, and it smells like Severin, pine and leather and wood smoke.

God, I love that smell.

In the next few seconds, Skye shoves in beside me on the right, followed by Autumn on the left. I hug them both to me. “Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine!” Skye says.

“Yep.” Autumn nods. “Severin and Rune kept us safe, and then Severin stuck us in here with you.”

Oh, god. Tears prickle my eyes.

Severin’s in the middle of a bar fight with Meloria and whoever else she’s got working for her, but he took the time to keep my besties safe!

Screw it. I’m too drunk to keep lying to myself. Nothing I feel for him is fake.

I’m falling in love with the man who only wants me for a year, and I’m falling really freaking hard.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Severin

A bar fight in an orc pub is nothing new. Orcs are quick to anger and quick to forgive, and brawling is an accepted part of their culture.

Yet that’s not what’s happening here.

Meloria and her stooges started this fight, all to threaten my betrothed.

How dare they? How dare they threaten Hannah? I’ve led wars and felt less rage than fills me now, especially because I can’t touch Meloria, since she’s one of the contestants in the bride trials.

Without her to stoke it along, the bar fight dies down rapidly, more’s the pity. Punching Meloria’s minion wasn’t particularly satisfying, the whelp too green to offer a good fight.

Soon she stands before me, wearing a glamour, but the malicious sparkle in her eye makes it clear she knows I know it’s her. “Poor Severin. Did something almost happen to your little human pet?”

“Get out, Meloria. You’re not welcome here.”

“Funny.” She taps a finger to her chin as if deep in thought. “I heard this was an orc pub.” Her eyes slide past me to where Thorvinn stands. “I didn’t think orcs liked you very much.”

“Whatever I feel for him, I like you even less.” The orc bares his tusks, and his hand drifts down to where he’d be wearing a sword if he were in Faerie. Even if he can’t carry such obvious weapons here, knowing orcs, he has at least one formidable knife on his person. “Get out.”

She sneers one final time before spinning and marching for the door, her minion scurrying after her.

I release my shadows from around Hannah and her friends, my eyes raking over her, searching for injuries. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, thanks to you!” She throws her arms around me.

Is this fake? Is it, as she said earlier, “putting on a show”? Goddess, it doesn’t feel fake. And my worry for her was real.

I freeze, holding her to me. I was worried about her, worried about someone other than myself. Have I ever felt that before? I don’t think so. What does it mean? I always thought the finer feelings in life were not for the likes of me. But if I’m no longer a villain…

Hannah snuggles her face into my neck.

I stroke a hand down her back, and the movement’s more about comfort than seduction. Who even am I right now? I hold her until she stirs and pushes away with another thank you before turning to see if everyone’s okay.

My eyes scan the crowd. No one’s seriously injured, but I wave over one of my healers. “Heal everyone involved. Don’t let the humans realize what you’re doing.”

“Yes, My King.” He works his way through the crowd, brushing his hands against shoulders and elbows in little pulses of magic.

“I apologize that this came into your pub,” I say to Thorvinn. The words don’t come easily. I never apologize. But if I’m truly to be reformed, I need to start acting like it.

“It’s because of me,” Hannah says. “Sorry.”

“Hell. It’s not an orc pub without a brawl.” Thorvinn jabs a finger toward me. “You can make it right by buying a round.”

I nod.

Thorvinn vaults over the bar and roars, “Next round’s on King Severin!”

The entire pub cheers and surges toward him, people smiling at me and calling out thanks.

What an odd feeling. I’ve never been cheered before. I think I like it. This “good guy” thing might be a little addicting. And it’s all because of Hannah.

When she looks at me like she does now, as if I’m worthy of her regard, she spins the hand of my rusty moral compass, swinging it toward true north, turning me toward good.

And I don’t even hate it.

The next morning, Varyn finds me watching over Hannah’s cottage.

“I knew you’d be here.” He casts a simple illusion, hiding himself from human sight as he settles onto the tree branch beside me. “Why exactly are you here, perched in this tree like some giant raptor?”

I grunt. “I’m protecting Hannah.”

“You hired people for that.” He points toward Luna, who’s just stepped out from behind the cottage after doing another walk of the perimeter. “If they’re not competent, hire someone else.”

“They’re competent, but Meloria’s relentless. She’ll stop at nothing to win the bride trials. She attacked at the pub yesterday evening and again here at the cottage in the middle of the night.” I used my shadows to keep Meloria from reaching the cottage, while Luna, in her werewolf form, fought off the minion.

“Go get some rest,” he says. “I’ll watch over Hannah today.”

“Thank you.” I clap him on the shoulder and launch from the tree. But I head toward town instead of the palace, off to find Shadow.

I flew Hannah home last night and refused her inebriated invitation to come in, offering her a date tonight to make up for it.

And make up for it, I shall. I’m going to give her the best date of her life, prove once and for all that our attraction to one another, no matter how it began, is something real.

When she looked at me with those big brown eyes and told me she trusted me, it unlocked something within me, a place I’ve held guarded for my entire life. No one’s ever trusted me before, never looked at me with such faith in my actions and character.

Hannah makes me want to be the man she already thinks I am. A good man. One worthy of her trust.

Seduction is no longer enough. I want to earn her adoration.

And I want far more than adoration from my enchanting little witch. I need her to agree to be with me—fully in my life and in my bed—for our year of marriage.

Sunlight warms my face, streams across the tops of the trees until they blaze green and alive. Earth has brought me to life too, bathed me in the light of Hannah’s smile.

Ferndale Falls comes into view. The town I will make anew. I no longer act for myself—though I will, of course, also reap the rewards—I do it for her. Hannah loves this town, and I will do anything to make her happy.

When I land on the town green, some of the tulips are resting, rooted in their beds, but the remainder race up to me. They bob and weave, their little root feet clumsy, their leaf arms flapping more than usual.

“Have you been in the cider?” My lips quirk. “Was it the pixies?”

Flower heads nod all around me, and a few spin in place, clearly still having fun.

“Go and sleep it off.” I wave them toward their flower beds. “You need to eat.”

The tipsy tulips stagger away, settling into the dirt in uneven lines, little heads drooping as they immediately fall asleep.

I find the werepanther standing in line outside Slice of Life, which is still the only breakfast café in town. Goddess, this only proves how much we need a bakery.

“Severin.” He grins his wide cat sith grin. “I was going to look for you right after breakfast. I have good news.”

My heart skips with hope. There’s only one thing I’ve continuously ordered him to do…

“I found a brownie who’s willing to come to Earth to open a bakery.”

Yes! Thank the goddess. “Perfect. Bring them to town today. Tell them I’ll pay them double if they’ll make dinner for two this evening.”

Then I fly straight for the palace to find the royal seamstresses. I have a special job for them.

It really will be the most excellent date.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Hannah

“Nooo,” I moan as the fluffy cloud slips away from the sun, allowing it to flood my backyard with brightness. “Come back, little buddy!”

“I thought I was your little buddy.” Finn wiggles on my lap, reminding me I’m supposed to be giving him scratchies.

“You are.” I dig my fingers into the soft fur of his upper chest, and he rewards me with one of his lovely purrs.

I slouch farther down the reclining lawn chair, nursing a ginormous travel mug of coffee. Normally when I’m home, I use cute little ceramic cups handmade by a local potter. But small cups equal extra trips to the kitchen, and that would mean moving.

“Note to self: orc ale is evil.” I take a big gulp of coffee.

“You should have gone hunting with me,” Finn says. “Much more sensible. I had berries and a nice juicy mole, and neither of those gave me a headache.”

“I had fun getting this headache,” I say. “No regrets.” Okay, a few regrets, but mostly that I forgot to drink water and down a couple of aspirin when Severin dropped me off last night.

Still buzzing from that kiss in the bar—and the orc ale—I invited him in. He said no, because I was tipsy, which I hated at the time but find kind of sweet in the harsh light of day. But he did promise to take me on another fake date tonight. I wonder where we’ll go this time.

“Bugs!” A bird chirps. “Bugs and sex!”

“Sex!” another answers.

A surprised laugh sputters out of me, making my head hurt. Oh, god. I so totally need an off switch for my magic.

“What?” Finn nips at my hand, teeth barely touching my skin. “You stopped scratching.”

Digging under his chin, I say, “Just the birds being funny.”

Finn purrs, the aspirin kicks in, and for all its brightness, the warm sun feels good. I set my coffee down on the little wooden side table and relax backward. I might have slept in, but a nap sounds perfect.

“Seeds,” a tiny voice says. “More seeds. More.”

Finn tenses on my lap, and I crack open one eye and follow his keen gaze to where a chipmunk skitters across the edge of the backyard, its little cheeks already bulging. It pauses and stands upright, tiny hands bringing a small bite to its mouth.

Finn rolls slowly onto his stomach, his back feet digging into my thighs, his bushy tail smacking my face.

“Don’t you dare,” I whisper-hiss, pushing his tail aside.

“Danger!” the chipmunk squeaks, darting back into the underbrush of the forest.

“Humph,” Finn grumbles. “I might have chosen you to be my witch, but I’m still a wild animal.”

“That doesn’t mean I need you to go all Animal Planet right in front of me.”

His tail swishes back and forth. “I might be able to suppress my natural instincts for the right inducement.”

“That being?” My lips quirk. Bless his little mercenary heart.

“Peanuts.”

“Sure, bud.” I stroke my hand down his back as he relaxes onto my lap. “You can have a few peanuts.”

His ears perk up. “Now?”

“Do we have to get up right this second?” I whine.

“The chipmunk was now, so my inducement should be as well.”

“Fine.”

Before I can move, my phone rings. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hannah! I’m so glad I caught you. I read the most interesting thing this morning.”

I brace for today’s cringey sex fact, hoping it’s not another lecture on sperm count.

“A little over three-hundred years ago, one of your ancestors on your father’s side claimed she could talk to animals! Can you imagine?”

“Oh! That would be so cool.” I grin and give Finn’s ears a scratch. This magic runs in my family! “What happened to her?”

“There was talk about her being a witch, but the family was some kind of minor nobility back in England, so it looks like they were able to hush it up. There hasn’t been anything else since.” Mom’s tone goes regretful. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find much.”

“What you found is great, and I appreciate you looking.” It’s good to know this witch power runs in my blood. Who knows how many women in the years in between would have been able to talk to animals if there’d been magic in the world? I’m so glad that Naomi reopened the doors of Faerie. As weird as it’s all been, my magic feels like a part of me.

And it brought me Severin.

Mom uses her mother-telepathy powers and reads my mind from across several –hundred miles. “So, how are things going with your young man? Can I expect any grandbabies yet?”

“Mom, you’ve got to stop asking that!” But I know she won’t.

“I’m sorry! I just want you to have someone in your life. You don’t have to have children yet, but I don’t like the thought of you being alone.”

“I’m not alone. I’m still dating Severin. Things are getting a little serious.” Not a complete lie—marriage is serious, even fake marriage—but I’m not going to mention the M word unless I win this last bride trial. There’s no point in getting her hopes up if things go totally pear shaped.

“Severin! What an interesting name.”

“I think it’s an old family one… from Europe.”

“Even if you’re not having babies yet, the washing machine trick is still great.”

“Mom!”

“Hey, orgasms are important, and not just his.”

I laugh, shaking my head. She’s not wrong, but this is the kind of convo I want to have with my besties, not my mother.

“I love you,” I say.

“Love you, too. Tell that young man your father and I plan to meet him soon.”

We say our goodbyes, and the second I slip my phone back into my pocket, Finn rolls from my lap to stand, head pointed toward the kitchen door. “I haven’t forgotten the peanuts, you know.”

“I’m on it.”

Right as I get up, leaves rustle as one of the rhododendrons edging the back of the yard shakes. “Berries?” A porcupine’s head pokes out from behind a cluster of pink flowers. It waddles forward, its long quills clearing the bush. Then two more tiny ones follow, little balls of whisker-thin silvery quills propelled forward by tiny black feet.

Awww! It’s the mommy and babies I met a couple of days ago!

The mother’s dark eyes watch me carefully, or maybe she’s watching Finn. “You have berries?”

Rune steps out from behind a tree, his amber eyes flashing gold as he eyes the newcomers. “Everything okay here?”

The mother turns to face him, and the babies burrow into her side, trying to hide.

“Everything’s fine,” I say in a soft voice. “These are friends.”

“Fine, if you like being poked with quills,” Finn grumps.

“Hush, you,” I say. “Leave them alone, and no quill poking needs to happen.”

“Humph.”

I pull out my phone and do a quick search for what porcupines eat. When I discover they’re herbivores, I make a mental list of everything in the fridge. “I don’t have any berries, but I do have baby carrots.”

The mother moves closer, her babies following close behind. “Try carrots.”

I leave Finn in the kitchen, crunching on a handful of unsalted peanuts.

When I return with their snack, the mother porcupine spins in place a couple of times in excitement. Then she takes a baby carrot in her front hands and brings it to her mouth. Whoa. She’s got big teeth like a beaver, and they’re as orange as the carrot! I didn’t really see her teeth the other day because she was gnawing on a tree while we talked, telling me she likes maples the best.

I fish out the smallest of the carrots and give them to the babies. They all go to work, those big teeth crunching away.

“Good, good,” the babies coo. Happy little num-num noises fill the yard, sounding like little cartoon people talking in nonsense words. It’s so freaking cute I have to hug myself to keep from reaching for them.

Forget being the wacky woman who tromps through the forest with cargo pants full of food. The animals are going to follow me home instead. And I’m so totally okay with that.

“Thank you,” the mother says once she finishes the rest of the carrots.

The babies echo her in tiny squeaking voices, “Tank oo!”

They scamper back into the trees, and I watch the place where they disappear until the swaying fiddleheads fall still.

My magic slips outward, tracking them as they head deeper into the forest. Other little blips fill my awareness, chipmunks and birds. A grin stretches my cheeks. All of my training has paid off. I can detect nearby animals and talk to them. I love my power. I always dreamed of being able to talk to animals, to let them know they can trust me.

But my magic isn’t very physical. I sure as hell can’t do cool things like fly and use shadows like Meloria or tunnel through the ground and throw around rocks like Ruby. I barely figured out a way to use it for the second trial. Ferndale Falls’s prosperity and any possible relationship I could have with Severin, fake or not, depends on me winning the last trial.

Will my magic be enough?

CHAPTER THIRTY

Hannah

When Severin picks me up for our date that evening, he’s wearing the fanciest waistcoat I’ve ever seen over a white shirt made of silk. The soft material gapes open, exposing a lot of gorgeously muscled chest, the sleeves rolled to the elbows to show off his delicious forearms. Even his already-perfect hair looks somehow better, which shouldn’t be physically possible. Those razor-sharp cheekbones, those kissable lips…

I want to lick him.

“I didn’t realize we were dressing up.” I glance down at my blouse and jeans. My clothes are nice but nothing fancy. “I’ll go change.”

“No need.” He extends his hand. “I’ve taken care of it.”

As soon as our fingers touch, an electric tingle shoots up my arm, thrumming through my chest and waking up my butterflies.

His shadows coil from his tattoos, reaching out to wrap around me as he pulls me into his arms. His scent, smoke and pine and leather, surrounds me as he launches into the sky.

The cool air of evening flows around us, but I’m plenty warm, snuggled close to his firm heat.

My tiny cottage soon disappears from view as the last of the residential area slides by and we near downtown.

One of Severin’s shadow tendrils glides up my cheek and slips over my eyes in a blindfold.

“I have a surprise for you,” his deep voice growls in my ear, sending shivers racing through me as my butterflies whirl with giddy joy.

“Okay,” I say. “I trust you.”

His arms tighten around me, and he tips us back to vertical, coming down for a landing.

Distant conversations come from all around, along with the rustle of wind through leaves. We’re on the town green.

Instead of setting me down, Severin scoops me into his arms in a bridal carry and strides forward. His footsteps strike pavement, and there’s the sound of a door opening. It closes behind us, cutting off the sounds of outside.

The shadow tendril slides from my eyes to show—

Shock makes me gasp, “Where are we?”

“Ferndale Falls’s newest shop, opened only today,” he says. “We’ll finalize the paperwork on Monday.”

I nod, spinning slowly in place. Dresses surround me, the most beautiful dresses I’ve ever seen. They come in every color of the rainbow, but all of them share a single trait: they’re all made of Faerie silk. One whole corner of the shop glows with white fabric, filled with wedding gowns made out of dreams.

“Welcome to Haute and Bothered.” A shadow fae woman steps forward, tall and beautiful, with tan skin and flowing light-brown hair. She wears one of the shop’s dresses, showing it off better than any mannequin ever could. “I am Valena. I will assist you this evening.”

Severin sets me on my feet, his arm lingering around my waist as he says, “I’ll leave you to it.” After a kiss to my knuckles, he exits the front door, heading back to the green, where the walking tulips immediately surround him.

“Do you have a favorite color?” Valena asks.

Like most people with a spring skin tone, I wear a lot of bright colors. But this evening, something pulls me toward the blue dresses. My fingers drift across the rack, luxuriating in the feel of the Faerie silk, soft as a caress. I halt, pulled to a dress the color of the summer sky right before sunset, a lovely rich blue. It’s the color I see every evening when Severin takes me flying over the forest to practice my magic. “This one.”

“Excellent choice.” She waves her hand, and magic tingles over me. In a flash, I’m wearing the dress and matching silk slippers, my clothes piled on the counter at the front of the store. Another flick of her fingers, and the fit of the dress adjusts, becoming custom tailored to me.

Valena touches my cheek, and my face tingles. Then she runs her hands over my hair in another rush of magic.

When she pulls me over to the shop’s standing mirror, I’m shocked to see my make-up redone, with smoky eyes and blue eye shadow. My hair flows around my shoulders in flawless waves, looking better than it ever has in my life.

And the dress! Oh, god, the dress is utter perfection. Gauzy layers of the thinnest Faerie silk drape my body and fall in flattering waves from my hips down to swirl around my ankles.

“I’m not sure I can afford this.” There aren’t any prices on the dresses, and you know what they say: if you have to ask…

“King Severin has already paid for everything.”

Oh! Pleased surprise ripples through me. I probably shouldn’t accept such an expensive gift. After all, this isn’t like the engagement ring—a fancy dress won’t make our fake relationship look more real. But I’ve never worn anything so beautiful, and it’s so thoughtful of him to have arranged this for me.

“I love it,” I say. “Thank you for your help.”

“It is an honor to serve the future queen.” She dips her head. “You are to remain here while I let King Severin know you’re ready. I’ll be but a moment.”

I turn to watch as she leaves the shop, but there’s a haze in the air, and I can no longer see the town green. It takes me a moment to realize it’s Severin’s shadows, purposefully blocking my view. What can he be up to?

He’s going to so much effort for tonight’s date. It certainly makes me feel special. But it’s got to be part of the act, right? He’s putting on a good show, so people think we’re in love. So why does it feel so real every time he touches me?

God, I’m so confused. What’s fake? What’s real? I know I want more, but what does he want?

I grab my phone from my clothes and text Skye and Autumn on our three-way chat. Help! Severin’s taking me on this really fancy date tonight, and I’m so confused.

Confused how? Skye asks.

He’s putting in a LOT of effort, and I keep hoping it means something…

Autumn types, But you’re worried it’s all part of the fake thing.

I like her message with a “100%” emoji.

Do you like him? Skye asks. Like-like him?

Yep.

Ask him what this means to him, Autumn responds. You’re already emotionally invested.

What she said, Skye adds. I know you. You hate uncertainty. So ask him, so you can stop worrying.

This is exactly what I’ve been thinking, but it’s still good to have it confirmed. Thanks! You two are the best!

We sure are, Autumn types.

Skye texts, Be ready to spill all the deets tomorrow at the next Witch Bitch Spicy Book Club meeting!

I add a laughing emoji and put my phone away right as Severin steps into the dress shop.

His green eyes heat as they scour over me, eating me up. “You’re so very beautiful, my betrothed.”

The butterflies pound espresso shots and go wild, fluttering so hard my heart skips.

“Are you ready for our date?” He offers me his elbow.

I slip my hand around his arm, enjoying the feel of strong muscle flexing under my fingers. “Yes.”

Yes to the date. Yes to like-liking him. Yes to whatever tonight may bring.

Just all the yes.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Severin

Hannah’s a vision of loveliness, the graceful layers of the Faerie silk dress swirling around her and offering teasing glimpses of skin. The rich brown of her glossy hair tempts me to touch, and a shadow sneaks up for a quick caress.

I lead her across the street to the town green, keeping a layer of shadows between her and the surprise waiting at the center. Once we step onto the grass, I slow us to a stop. “Close your eyes.”

She does as I ask without question, without hesitation. Her trust in me causes the strangest feeling in my chest, one I can’t name but want more of.

I dismiss my shadows and pause for a moment, taking one last look at all of the preparations, wanting—needing—everything to be perfect. Tonight, I’ll convince Hannah that what is between us is far more than a side-effect of magic, that we have something real.

A table sits in the middle of the green, covered with a silver table cloth and topped with gold place settings and cutlery. The finest crystal stemware awaits the pour of the rare vintages of wine brought from my cellars.

Tiny globes of magical light float all around, lighting the scene. The walking tulips agreed to temporarily root in a circle around the table to add another layer of beauty.

At my signal, a wood nymph begins to play a harp, the liquid notes flowing through the cool evening air in a river of lovely sound.

Hannah’s eyes snap open, going wide. I watch several emotions flicker over her face, savoring each one, shock, wonder, and yet more surprise as she spots each new item. Her expression settles into one of delight.

This is good. I’ve never done anything like this for anyone, yet I approached it in much the same way as my previous military campaigns. I delegated tasks better left to others, then hovered over them until they completed their duties to my utmost specifications. When you have a reputation like mine, all you need to do is throw in a few glowers and questioning grunts, and underlings become quite motivated.

Every single moment spent on this most excellent date becomes instantly worth it when Hannah looks at me, admiration warming her beautiful brown eyes and making their gold flecks sparkle.

“Severin, this is amazing! It’s…” She turns to look at the table again before meeting my gaze. “It’s more than anyone’s ever done for me.”

Good. That’s exactly what I want to hear. I want no other to compare.

I want her to be mine, body and soul.

“The best is yet to come,” I promise as I lead her to her seat and pull out her chair. Once she’s settled, I sit across from her, the table small enough that our knees brush. I open and pour the chilled white wine that goes with the starting courses, leaving the breathing red to wait until the entrée.

In a ripple of magic, a brownie appears beside the table. Two-foot tall, she matches her name, her pale skin offset by brown eyes, a tall puff of straight brown hair, and clothing made of various shades of brown leaves. “I am Pepperpot, and I will be your chef tonight.”

She disappears, and Hannah asks, “What kind of fae is she? Does she teleport like Naomi?”

“She’s a brownie, and she’s using invisibility magic.”

Pepperpot steps back into view, holding a basket full of nirvana. As soon as she sets it on the table, I snag a roll, then remember my manners and place one on Hannah’s appetizer plate as well.

The yeasty smell hits me the moment I slice into the warm bread with my knife, and I almost shove it into my watering mouth without buttering it first. But no, bread this good deserves to be enjoyed properly.

That first bite is everything I’ve been missing, the bread so light and airy its perfect taste melts across my tongue. I moan.

Hannah watches me, an amused smile curling her lips. She’ll see. Oh, how she’ll see.

I slide the crock of butter closer to her and gesture, then take another bite of bliss.

Hannah nibbles on the edge of her roll, then her eyes go wide and she chomps down, chewing vigorously. “Oh, my god, this is epitome of bread, the bread that all other bread wishes it could be.”

“You get it now.” I shove the rest of the roll into my mouth and reach for another. “There’s nothing else like brownie bread.”

“Is this your cook from the palace?”

“No.” I offered a ludicrous salary to Pepperpot, to no avail. “But there’s good news. Pepperpot has agreed to open a bakery in Ferndale Falls.”

Hannah gives an excited squeal around a bite of bread and swallows. “You mean I get to eat this every day?”

“Every day,” I promise.

Pepperpot reappears with two bowls of asparagus soup, the pale, creamy liquid smooth and delicious. It’s not quite as good as the bread, then again, what is?

We sip the delicate white wine as we eat, and as soon as the soup is done, the brownie whisks it away, leaving us each two lightly seared scallops drizzled with herb-infused oil.

It’s almost a tease, the serving size enough to give a good idea of the seafood’s excellent flavor and tender texture, yet not quite enough to satisfy. It’s one of the marks of a good chef, when a meal will have several courses like this.

When the last morsel of scallop disappears between Hannah’s lips, she sets down her appetizer fork and shoots me a rather sheepish smile. “Sorry, the food is so good I kind of forgot people usually eat dinner together so they can talk.”

“The lapse is as much mine as yours,” I say. “Yet there’s no one else I’d rather share this meal with than you. A brownie working at the height of their abilities is a meal to be savored, and I like seeing you enjoy it.”

“Didn’t you tell me you’ve had brownie chefs before?”

“I have, yet none of them matched Pepperpot’s abilities.” What I don’t admit to Hannah is that those brownies didn’t want to work for me. Their food was always excellent—they wouldn’t dare serve me anything less—but I can now see that it lacked a certain something. Pepperpot’s joy at creating shines in every bite and elevates her food to an even higher level. This is certainly an unexpected perk of being “good.”

The brownie reappears, the main course in hand, herb-infused pheasant with a roasted root vegetable side. The white wine disappears from the table along with the appetizer plates, and I pluck up the red I’ve had breathing for a good half hour. It’s an earthy, smooth wine with cherry, black currant, and violet notes.

The harpist plays continuously, wrapping us in a bubble of beautiful music that makes it easy to forget we’re in the middle of town. Between the excellent food and company, I have to force myself to take more notice of our surroundings. Multiple people walk past the green, all staring at our fabulous meal for two. Even though I arranged all of this for Hannah, I cannot regret that it will further serve our story of a love match.

Yet when she looks at me with delight and approval shining from her eyes, I find it hard to think of anything other than tonight’s plan to prove we share a true connection.

Our initial hunger somewhat dulled, we converse as we continue eating. I admit that I spent most of my day arranging this evening’s date, as well as the two new businesses for Ferndale Falls. Hannah tells me about the porcupine family that came to visit and her plans to stock her kitchen with a range of animal-safe foods. I make a note that we will need to do so at the palace as well, during the year she’s with me.

For the second time in my life, I make small talk. I ask her about her work as mayor and actually pay attention as she recounts the lengths she’s gone to in order to keep her beloved town afloat. She tells funny stories of decorating various empty shops to attract temporary businesses called “pop-up stores.” The Severin of only a few months ago would have sneered at hearing such small details from another person’s life. But this evening, it takes little effort to listen to Hannah, to learn more about her.

Underneath her sunny disposition and general goodness, she’s driven, stubborn, and a furiously hard worker. I admire all of these traits as well as sharing them. You can think conquering thoughts all day long, but if you don’t have a good work ethic, you’ll never rise to the level of warrior king.

We finish the last bites of an excellent raspberry tart as she wraps up the story of decorating one of the empty shops for Halloween. She sets down her fork and gives a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “I will never underestimate what it takes to do that large of a project again. I budgeted a couple of hours and spent all weekend on it! Who knew fake spider web was such a pain in the butt?”

“What did all of your hard work reap?”

“Well, the shop was only open for two weeks. It did okay but not great, so there wasn’t much rent or tax money.” A touch of joy flickers in her eyes, in contrast with her words.

“There’s something more.” I lean forward. “Tell me.”

“While the Halloween store was open, every kid in town visited at least once, if not more often. It was all they could talk about—how cool it was to have a costume shop with lots of options. The wonder in their eyes, the smiles on their little faces…” Her lips curl in soft satisfaction as her gaze goes dreamy and distant.

And there it is, the core of her being. Hannah’s heart is big enough to care for all of those children, big enough to encompass this entire town.

I lift my glass to her. “To you, Mayor Hannah Wylde, and your indefatigable spirit and heart. May they ever shine.”

She drinks with me, then continues to hold her glass high. “To you, King Severin, for going above and beyond in helping to revitalize Ferndale Falls.”

We sip the wine to seal the toast, but she lifts her glass again. “Thank you for tonight. This is the most amazing date of my life, not that I’ve had many lately.” Regret flickers in her eyes for a moment before she shakes it away.

“I find that hard to believe,” I say. “You’re beautiful. You’re accomplished. Men should be lining up to beg for a single second of your time.”

“There aren’t many single men around.” She gives an awkward one-shouldered shrug. “And… I haven’t made my personal life much of a priority these last few years. My friends keep telling me I need to ‘get a life.’”

“We share that in common,” I admit. At her startled gaze, I add, “I was king, but I lived in the service of the Dark God. There were never nights like this, never times that were for nothing but beauty and the pleasure of another’s company.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She leans forward to take my hand, sympathy filling her beautiful eyes. “Tell me more about it? If you want…”

“I was a warrior king. The Dark God wanted to conquer all the realms of Faerie, and I was his instrument. Avalon was already half dead by the time I was born. I grew up believing it was simply the way of the world and that the Dark God’s desires were noble.” All of this is difficult. I’ve never admitted any of this to anyone. Since my closest confidants lived it beside me, Varyn and Daigan know all of this with no need for discussion. To tell Hannah makes me feel raw and exposed, yet a part of me also longs to have her know me better. “Then I visited Alarria and walked through a healthy forest of trees that sang to me of life. I saw orcs and other fae living as they chose instead of under the command of the Dark God, and I knew I wanted that for myself: No more war, only life.”

“Have you found that here, on Earth?”

“I have.” A deep breath fills my nose with the scents of greenery and flowers, a visceral realization of all I’ve gained. Yet Earth is so much more than that, because I’ve also found Hannah, who sees the best in me, who looks at me like a man instead of a villain. Even after my confession, her eyes hold nothing but warmth. It’s intoxicating. My body yearns toward hers like a plant eager for the sun.

I squeeze her fingers, then lift my glass for another toast. “To making up for lost time. I propose we spend the next year exploring the possibilities of ‘getting a life’ together.”

She drinks and sets down her glass, but her fingers linger, playing with the stem, her eyes focused on them as she clears her throat in a show of nerves. “There’s something else I want to talk about.”

My shoulders tighten. Is she going to say it was a mistake, that it can never happen again? That’s the very last thing I want.

“I didn’t say the right thing afterward. The truth is… I didn’t know what to say.” Her eyes flick up to meet mine. “I’ve never had magical sex before. I have no idea what’s normal. And that’s hard for me. I like knowing things, being competent, but this whole magic thing has made me fumble around. After we were together, I couldn’t handle the thought of you realizing this was another area of magic I didn’t know. I said the wrong thing at the time, and I want to fix that now.” Pink tints her cheeks. “That night was special for me.”

The Severin of the past would howl in triumph that she exposed a vulnerability and start listing ways to exploit it. How foolish that would be! This is not weakness. On the contrary, Hannah’s admission took great strength—the kind of strength I’ve never shown in my life.

Until now. Until her.

“It is I who should be sorry,” I say. “Of course, you couldn’t know how magic impacts sex, and I should have realized that.”

I could tell her how I’ve never known a loving relationship in my life. How my parents were distant, their entire lives focused on serving the Dark God right up until their final battle.

Yet I no longer need to be that person. I’m already changing, most of it due to the woman sitting across from me. Hannah makes me want to reach for the finer feelings in life. The truth of my hollow emotional life is too raw to expose, yet I want to offer her something.

“Let me assure you, nothing about our encounter was normal. I’ve never felt that kind of desire before. My knot has never swelled for anyone else.” I pluck her hand from the glass and hold it tight. “It was special for me as well. You’re special to me.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Hannah

I promised myself I’d finally talk to Severin, but I almost chickened out, because I didn’t want to ruin this amazing date. I’m so freaking glad I said something!

Severin’s words ring through me. I’m special to him! Everything happening between us is something special. Giddy relief bubbles in my chest as if my blood’s been replaced with champagne. I can’t stop smiling.

His lips quirk. “Are you going to respond?”

“You need to kiss me, and it totally needs to be now.”

With a growl, he leaps from his chair to pull me to him. His shadows lift me as he takes me into his arms, his mouth hot and insistent as he eats at my lips like a man starved. His tongue tangles with mine, tasting of wine and tangy, sweet raspberries.

My butterflies dip and spin in a delighted swirl. A moan escapes me, the needy little one I never made until him.

“Goddess, Hannah,” he growls against my lips. “Do you know how wild that noise makes me? Do it again.” His fangs scrape over my throat, teasing the sensitive skin behind my ear.

I do exactly as he tells me and moan again, my fingers clutching his wide shoulders.

An indistinct shout cuts through the lovely harp music, and Severin pulls away from me to glare at where townspeople watch us from every side.

“Oh, yeah.” I blink quickly a few times. “We’re awfully public here.” It was part of the point of the very public date—to show everyone the happy couple they expect—but I forgot to act happy to be with him because I was happy.

“Then allow me to remedy that.” In a flash, his wings spread wide, and he launches us into the sky, soaring up, up, up into the moonlit night.

He slows until we hover in midair, far above the tiny lights of the town below. Severin buries his hand in my hair, pulls my head back, and kisses me again, hot, intoxicating kisses that fill my veins with thick honey and threaten to claim my soul.

“Hannah, I must taste you,” he groans. “The thought of burying my head between your pretty thighs has haunted me for days. I won’t wait any longer.”

“Yes,” I breathe against his lips, my butterflies diving straight to my core and making it clench.

Magic shivers through the air, leaving me completely naked. I should probably mourn my beautiful dress, but Severin’s shadows coil around me, touching me everywhere. I shiver with delight. Being naked with him is worth a million dresses. The tendrils support my arms, my legs, my back. His hands glide down my body, his mouth following. He licks over my nipple, nipping it with his fangs until it tightens into a hard peak he sucks into his mouth.

I gasp, burying my hands in his hair, torn between holding him exactly where he is and pushing him down, down, down to where my greedy clit demands attention.

He licks his way over to my other breast, teasing me until I whimper, my hips shifting with need. With a dark chuckle, he slides down my stomach, those clever green eyes glinting up at me. His shadow tendrils continue to support me in midair as his hands push my knees apart.

“What a pretty little pussy.” One fingertip teases up and down my folds, almost brushing my sensitive nub, but stopping short.

I tug at his hair, whining with need.

Then his shadows coil around my arms, lifting them over my head and locking my wrists together. More shadow tendrils grip my ankles and wind their way up my calves, pulling my legs even wider.

I tug against the restraints, unable to move an inch. I’m caught by him, completely under his control. And it’s hot as hell.

Severin laughs, low and wicked, and the sound sets me tingling. He blows hot air over my wet skin until goosebumps break out all over my body. “So sensitive, my enchanting little witch. I love it.”

He nips at my inner thigh, his fangs adding a sting that makes sensation zip straight to my core. Then his tongue flicks hot across my clit, sending tingles bursting through me.

“Severin!”

“I’m going to fuck you with my tongue, and you’re going to ride my face.”

Oh, god. My core clenches.

“Tell me you’ll do it.” He reaches up to pinch my nipple, his shadows moving over my skin in a full-body caress. “Tell me you’ll ride my face like a good girl.”

“I will!” I gasp. “I’ll ride you like a good girl!”

Severin’s hands cup my butt cheeks, pulling me to his mouth, and his tongue swirls around my entrance. He groans, “Goddess, you taste divine.”

Then his tongue plunges forward, filling and lapping at me until I lose myself to sensation. I’m spread wide, held in midair by his shadows. If it were anyone but Severin, I’d be scared. But I trust him, so instead it’s thrilling, my heart racing at the thought of where we are, of what we’re doing. The star-speckled sky fills my vision, the full moon letting me see everything he’s doing to me.

My body tries to twist and writhe, but his shadows keep me bound in place.

He spears me with his green eyes, even as he spears me with his tongue, watching me watch him. Pleasure builds and builds, each wave cresting higher, until I’m panting, my hips undulating—the only movement his shadows will allow. I hang on the edge of orgasm, needing one more tiny push…

As if he reads my mind, a coil of shadow slides across my stomach and down to vibrate over my clit.

Pleasure crashes over me, sweeping me away until I’m nothing but a being of pure sensation. My muscles flutter around his tongue as Severin continues to lap and suck, keeping my orgasm going until I don’t think I can take any more.

“Please,” I whimper, not even knowing if I’m asking for more or for him to stop. “Please.”

He presses one last kiss to my sensitive nub, then flies up until we hang face to face.

A shadow tendril glides up my thigh, thickening as it goes. It plunges into my core, moving in and out as I writhe, my arms and legs tugging against the bonds.

“My enchanting little witch, you look so beautiful like this, wrapped in my shadows. Do you like it? Do you like my shadow fucking you?”

I can only nod as pleasure coils through me, thick and hot. I’m already so close to the edge, and his words push me closer.

He thrusts harder, the stretch delicious.

“I feel it, you know. My shadows are a part of me. I feel it every time they touch you.” His voice drops to a raspy growl. “And you feel exquisite.”

“Severin!” I moan, pleading for more. My heart races, and I gasp for breath, hanging on the edge of orgasm.

His shadow dives deeper, filling me fully, as tension tightens in my core. Then another tendril glides over my clit, and I’m gone, shaking with pleasure as I scream his name to the sky.

The shadows slide from between my legs as I slowly come down.

As soon as my eyes refocus on Severin, a pulse of magic banishes his clothes, and he hovers in front of me, naked and erect, my dark angel, my dearest temptation.

I lied earlier without meaning to. He’s not simply special to me.

Severin is magic and power and the strength to rewrite my world. He’s the man who’s seen my dreams and done everything in his power to make them true, showing a patience and thoughtfulness that take my breath away. He’s the man who’s made me slow down and enjoy life again.

I love him with everything I am.

“Severin,” I whisper, reaching for him the second his shadows free my arms.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Severin

My wings beat just enough to keep us aloft, my shadows lifting Hannah, stroking her, holding her exactly where I want her. She looks glorious like this, washed in moonlight and flushed with pleasure.

I lick Hannah’s sweetness from my lips, salt and tang and woman. Tasting her is every bit as good as I imagined, an addiction I never want to cure.

“See how good we are together,” I say. “What just happened wasn’t because our magic joined. It wasn’t my aphrodisiac seed. No, everything that just happened was purely due to my hunger for you, and yours for me.”

Her beautiful brown eyes meet mine, full of longing and an emotion I can’t name. Yet it calls to me with a siren’s song, pulling me forward. I want to lose myself in those eyes, lose myself in her.

But first, I need her to agree, to see our attraction is real.

“You came all over my face, your pretty little pussy clenching my tongue. Then you came all over my shadows.” I brush her cheek with my fingertips, trailing them down her neck to tweak a nipple. “Tell me you want my cock. Tell me you want me.”

“I do.” She swallows and licks her lips. “I want you.”

“Good girl.” My shadows slide over her as I pull Hannah into my arms, her legs wrapping around my hips. The head of my cock glides over her stomach, and she gasps as my aphrodisiac starts to work, grinding against me, her wetness soaking my thigh as she bears down.

“Oh, god. I need…” her voice trails off into that moan that drives me wild.

My erection leaps, leaking more fluid onto her. My mouth takes hers, nipping at her lips, drinking down her gasps of pleasure like the finest of wines.

Her skin slides against mine, softer than Faerie silk. I am enraptured. I am undone. My little witch has enchanted me fully.

I lift her higher, sliding her wetness up my length in a hot rush of pleasure. “Goddess, you feel so good. You’re so wet for me.”

We rock together, hovering in the privacy of midair, where nothing can touch us, nothing can interrupt. Here, there is no town to worry about, no other people to satisfy. There is only me and her and this all-consuming desire I have to claim her.

The moon lights her features, letting me see every feeling flickering over her expressive face. Wind lifts our hair, swirling around us and cooling my exposed skin. But where we touch… Goddess, where we touch, we blaze like an inferno.

My hands grip her thigh, her hip, pulling her into place, my shadows coiling around her.

“Severin.” Hannah whispers my name like a prayer as the shadows slip from my cock and glide across her skin. Two more grip the base of my erection and slide the head up and down her folds, wetting her with more of my seed.

Hannah clings to my neck, her mouth falling open, her little heels digging into the backs of my thighs as she climbs my body, bringing me right to her entrance.

I slide into her sweet depths and groan at the heady sensation of her squeezing me. “My Hannah, my good girl, you feel so exquisite wrapped around my cock.”

Her muscles tighten, the pressure amazing, and my hips jerk forward. Over and over, I pound into her, loving the way her velvet heat clutches at me, just as greedy for this as I am.

My magic rises, met by hers, and that wonderful feeling of connection wraps me as tightly as Hannah’s lovely thighs. It surges back and forth between us, combining a little more with each pass, blossoming outward into a greater whole. I wanted tonight to prove we don’t need this magical connection to bring us together, but I feel as if everything we’ve shared until now already proved my point. Now that it’s begun, I cannot regret it, because our magic combining makes every sensation more intense.

Hannah lets out her breathy little moan, making my length leap within her.

Goddess, I will never get enough of this woman, of the little sounds she makes, of her gasps of delight.

I kiss her again as my shadows swirl outward from the base of my erection, stroking her clit and sliding into her ass. The sensation of filling her in two places nearly undoes me.

“Oh, god,” she sobs, her entire body trembling. “Oh, Severin.”

“Feel me. Feel my cock and my shadows filling you everywhere, stuffing you so full,” I growl, plunging deep. “Take my cock, take it all like a good girl.”

Her magic flares, mixing with mine in an added layer of sensation that goes beyond the physical. Hannah’s mouth goes wide as she screams my name, her muscles pulsing around me as I thrust again and again, riding her through her orgasm.

My balls tighten as my climax hits, the heat and pressure of her sweet depths pure pleasure. I jerk part way out, my shadows wrapping the base of my length as my knot swells, ready to lock her to me, to claim her as mine.

Soon, I promise it. Soon I will make her truly mine.

She clings to me, and I support her with my shadows as my hands stroke her back, her soft hair. I tip up her chin, enjoying the satiated look in her dazed eyes as I press kisses to her trembling mouth.

The cool night air becomes more noticeable now that we’re still, and before she can become chilled, I slip the rest of the way from her and magic our clothes back into place. Then I scoop her up in a bridal carry, and she curls her arms around my neck and rests her head in the crook of my shoulder. A slow glide carries us toward Hannah’s cottage. Her soft breaths tickle my neck in long, gentle exhales as if she’s already falling asleep.

When I land in her front yard, she gives a sleepy murmur of protest as her hand pats at her dress. Not finding what she’s looking for, Hannah’s eyes snap open. “Oh, no! I left my keys and phone in my other clothes at Haute and Bothered.”

“Not to worry.” I send my shadows slipping into the lock, shaping them into a key. The door clicks open, and I carry her inside, using another shadow to close the door after us.

Her home is built on a smaller scale than I’m used to, having grown up in a palace. Yet it feels comforting instead of smothering. It’s a warm house, a lived-in space, full of little touches of Hannah: the art on the walls, the colorful rugs on the floor. I like it.

She points down the short hallway, guiding me to the bedroom. As I stride across the floor, I whisk her clothes away. Hannah gives a breathless little laugh, and I send a shadow tendril racing forward to pull down the bright-purple comforter so I can lower her onto the bed. When I try to straighten, she keeps hold. “Stay.”

“Are you certain?”

She nods.

I’ve never spent the night with anyone before, never wanted to. It’s a level of intimacy I’ve never known. But goddess, do I want it with her. The lingering echo of our magic combining twangs in my chest.

With a flick of my fingers, I banish my clothes and crawl in beside her, wrapping her in my arms as a shadow tendril pulls the covers over us.

Hannah burrows into my side, her head pillowed on my shoulder, and makes the sweetest little sound of contentment.

Goddess, that sound undoes me. No one’s ever simply held me before or taken comfort from my presence. I don’t know what to do with such trust.

She falls quickly asleep, but I lie awake for several hours, reveling in the new feelings my little witch has brought into my life.

I slip from the bed as the first rays of light strike the windows of the bedroom.

Hannah’s nose scrunches up in the most delightful way as she mutters something incoherent and rolls into the spot I just left. She lets out a happy sigh, her body relaxing as I pull the comforter up over her shoulders. I hope she’ll sleep long enough for me to offer her one more surprise.

Rune steps out from behind a tree as I open the cottage door. We share a nod, then I’m off, flying toward Ferndale Falls and the promised breakfast I arranged with the brownie last night.

The tulips stir when I land on the green, pulling their little root feet from the soil to race over to me, flower heads bobbing. I take a moment to brush my hands over their soft petals, sending little trickles of plant-healing energy into them.

“Much better,” I say. “Continue to rest in your beds each night.”

A flock of mourning doves land on the other side of the green, and the flowers race away, as curious as small children. The birds startle at first, lifting a few feet into the air to come down a couple of yards away. The flowers approach more slowly, long leaves reaching out to pet the birds’ backs as the doves peck bugs from the damp grass.

Morning sunlight strikes the bright-pink front of Cake My Day, making the bakery glow like a beacon guiding me through a rough sea of lumpy porridge to the safety of a perfectly baked loaf of bread.

The bell over the door gives a happy chime when I open it. Past me would have hated that noise. New me reacts like a trained dog, salivating at the thought of the treats within.

My conjurers did an especially good job refurbishing the building to Pepperpot’s standards, and the brownie’s hearth magic did the rest. Little round tables painted in soft pastels fill the front of the room, each surrounded by chairs in contrasting colors. Small vases full of wild flowers top each table, and murals of mountain meadows covered in those same flowers decorate both of the side walls.

But the real stars of the show are the two glass cases that stretch across the back of the store, shelves filled with the most delectable baked goods known in all the realms. One contains various sweets, and savory breads line the shelves of the other.

The smell of yeast and sugar teases me with the promise of perfection. My stomach gives an angry rumble, and I think I even drool a bit. Goddess, the last several weeks have been severely trying, but now that I have access to a brownie baker again, anything seems possible.

Pepperpot bustles from the kitchen, a tray of raisin-dotted sweet buns held before her. “King Severin, was everything all right with dinner? You left before you said.”

“Dinner was excellent.” I tip my head in thanks. “I merely wanted to partake of your breakfast offerings as well.” It’s a lie. There’s no “merely” to it—I would do bodily harm to anyone attempting to keep me away.

She slides the tray into the sweets case. “What would you like?”

I pause. I’ll be happy with anything, but what will Hannah like best?

Skipping over the cookies and cakes for now, I focus on the breakfast offerings. “One of each.”

Pepperpot adds sweet buns, rolls, and pastries of various types to a paper bakery box. When she gets ready to fold the top closed, I say, “Go ahead and add an extra of the item you consider your best.”

“They are all my best.” She spears me with her little brown eyes.

“Then I’ll take an extra sweet bun.”

I eat it on the flight back, unable to resist, still shadow fae enough to be unable to wait.

But Hannah laughs as I climb onto the bed and reaches out to wipe a bit of icing from the corner of my lips. “That good, huh?”

“The best.” I flip open the lid of the wide box, filling the room with the combined smell of the treats, heady and sweet.

Her eyes go wide as she scoots upright, tucking a sheet around her as she reaches for one of the swirled buns. Taking a big bite, she moans, “Oh, god, this is the best cinnamon roll I’ve ever had.”

She glances at the box and must notice there’s not another of the same type, because she extends it toward me. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hog it all.”

“It’s clearly your favorite.” Instead of taking the roll, I push her hand gently toward her mouth. “I want you to enjoy it. I can try one another day.”

She smiles and takes another bite, umming happily, unfazed by my actions.

Yet shock courses through me the moment I realize what I’ve done. I’ve schemed to get these brownie baked goods for weeks, and here I hand them over as if it’s nothing. When have I ever given up any kind of delight to please another over myself?

Never. Until her.

Sleeping beside her all night, holding her in my arms with no immediate thought of carnal pleasure, enjoying simply being with her…

I didn’t think myself capable, yet now I have to wonder. This strange feeling in my chest, this joy I feel every time she smiles… is this love?

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Hannah

That evening, Naomi teleports Skye and Autumn to the bookshop a half hour before the rest of the witches are set to arrive.

The cupcakes and cocktail-mixers get set aside as they cram in around me on the longest sofa.

“Thanks for coming. I totally need an emergency bestie gab session.”

“Of course,” Autumn says, her tone saying, “duh.”

“What is it?” Skye asks, her blue eyes full of worry. “Your magic?”

“Yeah,” Naomi nods. “The last trial is less than two days away. It’s coming up fast.”

“I know.” Anxiety twists in my tummy. God, time’s been freaking racing! I’m almost out. “It’s kind of about the trial, but it’s so much more than that.”

Autumn widens her eyes at me, bestie speak for “get on with it already.”

“Severin took me on the most amazing date last night. He really went all out. He bought me an amazing Faerie silk dress from that new boutique in town. He got a top chef to make us dinner and arranged a romantic table for two on the green with a harpist and magical floating Faerie lights and everything!”

They make appreciative noises.

“What makes it even better is he arranged all of it personally. He spent the entire day doing it! It made me feel super special, and…” I suck in a breath and blurt, “I realized I love him.”

Skye lets out a delighted squeal and hugs me. “I’m so happy for you!”

“Oh, boy. That complicates things.” Autumn’s mouth twists.

“But it’s good!” Skye says, ever the romantic. “Being in love is always good.”

“It’s good if Severin gets to stay.” Naomi reaches over Autumn to squeeze my arm, her voice gentle as she looks at me with sad eyes.

“Oh.” Skye deflates.

“I have to win the third trial. I just have to!” My voice hits a high note as my hands twist in my lap. “It’s not just about the town now. It’s also the only way Severin gets to stay on Earth. He loves it here, and I love him, so I need to do this for him!”

“We’ll do whatever we can to help,” Autumn says, expression determined. Then her freckled nose wrinkles. “Uhh. So what can we do?”

“I don’t know!” I wail and throw up my hands. “It’s going to be the trial of discernment. What the hell does that even mean?”

They crowd in around me with hugs, and once I’ve calmed down, we work out a plan. Skye will study the books delivered by library loan to see if there’s any new information on my kind of magic. And Autumn is in charge of relaxing me on the day of the third trial so that I go into it in the best state of mind possible.

“Magic?” She shrugs, making her bangles chime. “I’ve still got no clue. But yoga and centering yourself, I can do.”

“Thanks, guys.” I hug them to me. “You’re the best.”

The other Witch Bitches start arriving, and Skye and Autumn hop up to prepare the cupcakes and cocktails, bringing me mine first.

Finn follows Jasmine through the door, running up to press against my calves. “I gave you ‘girl time’ like you asked. I deserve a treat.”

I chuckle and set down my cupcake to scratch around his ears. When Autumn sits beside me, I gesture to the crunch berries covering her cupcake. “Can Finn have one?”

He whines, his eyes growing huge and piteous, like he’s wasting away, the little liar. I gave him chicken for lunch.

But my animal-lover friend can’t resist. “Of course!” She tosses him a fruity bite of cereal, which he snaps out of the air with a crunch.

Jasmine settles onto the sofa opposite me, her dark curls spilling from the top of a pretty turquoise head wrap. “Does anyone have any news about magic?”

I perk up. Maybe someone found something that can help me win the trial.

“I got nothing.” Kayla puffs her purple bangs from her eyes in frustration. Tonight’s T-shirt reads: I talk like this because I am better than you. “Most of the stuff in the gaming forums is made-up spells. None of the developers talk about where they got their ideas from.”

“I read more of my ancestor’s diaries.” Violeta takes a sip of her drink. “But she never speaks of magic again.”

“Has anyone found a familiar?” I ask.

More noes, with Emily adding that she walks in the woods each day to make it easy for animals to find her.

Huh. I guess it really might be because of my magic that I got mine first.

“See!” Finn prances at my feet, his bushy tail waving like a proud flag. “I’m special.”

“Never doubted it for a minute,” I tell him.

“That makes you special, too, since I chose you as my witch.”

“Thanks, little bud.”

“Anyone have any other witch biz?” Jasmine asks. When everyone shakes their heads, she turns back to me. “Okay, spill. We all saw the date last night.”

“You did?”

“Jared uploaded a video to the internet.” She holds out her phone, and Autumn snatches it from her hand, her mouth dropping open as she watches.

Skye leans over her shoulder, her eyes going wide. “You weren’t kidding when you said it was romantic!”

Destiny and Madison both start playing it on their phones as well, and soon all of the Witch Bitches are watching.

“Where’d you get the dress?” Violeta asks. “It’s to die for.”

“It’s from that new boutique, Haute and Bothered. The fae who runs it tailored it to fit me at a single touch.” I grin. “Severin bought it for me, along with a makeover.”

Shocked gasps of awe.

“Girl,” Jasmine drawls, “you got the royal treatment last night.”

“I really did. He didn’t just pay people, either. He actually went out and arranged it all himself.”

“He’s got it bad,” Violeta says. “Any more hot, single fae kings running around?”

“Or princes?” Kayla adds. “I’d take an ousted prince traveling the realms to complete a big quest only I can help him with.”

I glance at Naomi, who shrugs and grins. “No idea, but if I bump into any, I’ll send them your way.”

“My perfect man will love books as much as I do,” Skye says. “He doesn’t need to be royalty.”

“I like ’em brawny and able to put in a good day’s hard work.” Autumn’s eyes flick to the window in the front door, which shows Rune standing guard right outside. “Someone I can picture helping on the goat farm.”

While the others chime in about their dream guys, I take Jasmine’s phone and watch the video of last night’s date.

It captures me and Severin in profile, zoomed in enough to show our expressions, even if you can’t hear what we’re talking about. He says something, and his lips quirk in quiet amusement as I laugh. Then I look down at my plate to slice off another bite of pheasant, and Severin’s eyes remain glued to my face.

I never caught him doing it last night, but the video makes it clear: every time I glanced away from him, Severin watched me as if I’m the most fascinating sight he’s ever seen.

The intensity of his look steals my breath, giving me hope.

It catapults me right back to last night, to how special he made me feel. To think that a king spent his time planning and setting up such a perfect date for me.

Then the sex. Heckity heck, the sex was scorching. My toes curl just thinking about it. The excitement of hanging in midair, knowing Severin’s shadows were the only thing keeping me aloft. The thrill of him commanding me to ride his face while he held me bound. The delicious stretch of him stuffing me full of his cock and shadows.

The even more delicious night spent snuggled close to him until he slipped away to bring me breakfast in bed.

None of it feels fake.

We can have a future, I just know it.

All I have to do is win the third trial, and I’ll have a whole year of marriage to convince him that we should be together forever.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Hannah

Two days later, I’m sitting on that same sofa in I Touch My Shelf when my phone chimes a warning. Five minutes until I need to present myself to Severin’s palace for the third trial.

I spent all day yesterday working and then practiced my magic with Severin all evening. I kept busy today doing all the paperwork to finalize the opening of Ferndale Falls’s newest businesses, Haute and Bothered and Cake My Day. Then I had my yoga session with Autumn before coming here for a last-minute bit of research with Skye and Naomi.

Through it all, the ticking clock remained in the back of my mind, but as long as I kept moving, I could ignore it. Totally healthy coping mechanism. No prob.

Only now my time’s run out. I bounce to my feet, my tummy a bundle of nerves. “This is it, the third trial, my last chance to make everything right.”

“You’re the best witch because you’re my witch,” Finn says, pressing against my calf. “You’ll win this time, and I’ll help.”

“I hope that passage I found is useful.” Skye gives me a quick hug.

One of the books she brought contains an essay that says while witches might find things like spells and wands useful to direct their powers, magic doesn’t require fancy words or tools. Magic at its core, it claims, is instinct and intent. It sounds good, but I’m usually more of a give-me-concrete-action-steps kind of girl. But my friend doesn’t need to hear my doubts, not when she’s spent days using all her free time to research for me, so I say, “I’m sure it will be.”

“You got this.” Naomi stands and takes my arm with one hand, her other wrapping around the tip of Finn’s tail. “You ready?”

I try to smile, but it probably looks more like a grimace. “Let’s go.”

Varyn waits for us at the palace’s main doors, speeding us through the grand foyer and into the throne room in haste.

Shadow fae walk past in a blur of unfamiliar faces. They must have done their weekly change-over of people again. It’s yet another thing that will be better if I win. More shadow fae will be able to visit Earth and get a break from their slowly recovering realm.

Right before the door to the garden, Varyn stops and turns to me. “He wouldn’t want me to say this, but I’m going to, anyway. Severin is a friend, but he’s lived a somewhat isolated life, due to his position. You’re the first person I’ve ever seen make him truly smile.”

My heart skips, emotion thickening my throat.

“I know you want to win for the sake of you and your town. And I want you to win so I can live on Earth.” Varyn grips my shoulder. “But I need you to win for Severin.”

I swallow and rasp out, “I’m going to give it my damndest.”

He gives me a sharp nod and reaches for the door, throwing it open and letting in sunlight and the sweet scent of flowers.

Severin’s garden looks as lovely as ever. All of the other contestants and their representatives are already here, and the bridal stone stands waiting to start the trial.

My gaze skips past all of it to find Severin. God, he’s gorgeous. It’s more than his perfect cheekbones, emerald eyes, and unbelievably perfect hair. It’s that he’s patient and thoughtful. It’s the way he holds me, wrapping me in his arms and shadows and strength.

He’s gorgeous, because he’s the man I love.

His eyes warm as he spots me, his long legs eating the distance as he strides over. The silver crown flashes in the sunlight as he bows over my hand, pressing his lips to the knuckle right below his ring. “My betrothed.”

“For about ten more minutes,” Meloria snarks.

Totally over her mean-girl shtick, I spin to face her, hands on hips. “Would you get over yourself already? Sure, you’re beautiful, but you’re not all that. I just walked past at least ten fae easily as attractive as you.” I hook a thumb back toward the palace.

“Watch yourself, human.”

“Or you’ll what? Try to cheat some more?” I throw my hands up in the air, careful not to let slip that I know she sabotaged me during the first trial. I don’t want to get Severin in trouble. But I’ve got plenty of other blame to lay at her door. “Like you started that bogus bar fight to try to hurt me. Or how you tried to break into my house twice in the middle of the night and into my office another time.” Luna and Rune stopped her, but they wouldn’t have needed to if she hadn’t tried to start shit to begin with.

Her icy eyes narrow as she pulls out a knife.

I gulp. Okay, more like a mini-sword. Just how freaking long does a knife need to be, anyway?

Severin’s shadows leap from his exposed forearms, forming a shield in front of me that he immediately replaces with his body. “If you want to stab someone, stab me.”

I have to stand on tiptoe to see over his broad shoulder.

Meloria sneers before sheathing her knife. “Fine. I’m tired of wasting my time. I have a trial to win.”

Why? Can’t she see Severin hates her? Even if she wins—which, dear god, no!—she has to know he’ll pick Ruby or Elowen instead. Then it hits me. Her winning the trial means Severin can’t pick me. He won’t get to stay on Earth like he wants. Is that what all of this is now, a vindictive way to hurt him? I can’t imagine wanting to do that to any of my exes, even Darren, who turned out to be a total asshole.

I can see a bit more of what Varyn was talking about. If Severin spent his time with her, was that the kind of life he had before? One surrounded by spite and hate instead of love?

No wonder he’s worked so hard to make Ferndale Falls an even more wonderful place. All the cute little shops. The pixies, the gnomes, and the orcs making new homes. And the bakery! Dear god, the brownie bakery is enough to warm the heart and feed the soul.

Varyn’s right. I need to win this for far more than me. I need to win this for everyone who calls Ferndale Falls home.

Starting with Severin.

My love.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

Severin

As the four representatives take their place around the bridal crystal, Meloria’s minion shoots her a look of worry and fear. In contrast, Naomi looks at Hannah with concern and support and pride.

My previous self remained with Meloria because of her supposed strength. Hannah has shown me what true strength is: the ability to give your all for others so that you can form connections and create a community of people who care for you and support you.

Hannah flashes her friend a small smile, as if to comfort Naomi even though this trial is Hannah’s hurdle to leap. Then she turns those big, beautiful brown eyes on me, full of care and warmth and something more I can’t quite name.

But I want it to be love.

Because this strange feeling in my chest, the one I’ve never felt before? I can finally name it.

I love Hannah. I love her joy in life, her quiet strength, her determination. I love her heart, which is big enough to carry an entire town.

I step forward, ready to declare all of this, when a chime rings through the garden. The representatives have activated the bride crystal.

A scroll lands in Varyn’s outstretched hand, and he opens it with a flourish. “The third trial is the trial of discernment. Any wishing to join the shadow fae must see through illusions and glamours. To win this trial, you must find your future husband out of all the possibilities. The successful contestant with the best time wins.”

Hour glasses appear in the air beside each of the contestants. The representatives disappear right as a pillar of light also takes me. There’s a dizzying moment of nothingness, then I stand in the middle of my garden, surrounded by eight other Severins, each a perfect copy. When I try to ask what’s happening, I can’t move, can’t even twitch. I breathe, I blink, but even those are regulated, their timing controlled. My shadows lay dormant under my skin, my tattoos completely still.

Frustration burns in my chest, growing hotter when I discover I can’t even grind my teeth. Locked in place like this, I can’t do a damned thing to aid Hannah.

“To win this trial, you must find the true Severin.” Varyn gestures towards all of the Severins in the garden. “You can eliminate any of the Severins by pointing at them and saying, ‘No.’ But be warned. To lay hands on one of them is to make your choice, so do not touch until you make your final pick.

“As winner of the first trial, Elowen will go first.”

Her hour glass tips over as the wood nymph raises both arms and sings, a wild song of wind and storm-tossed branches. The trees on the right side of the garden respond, each shedding a fraction of their leaves, which the already-present breeze sweeps across the center of the garden. Leaves tap against me and fall to the ground, as they do with four of the other Severins, who must be the glamoured representatives. Yet leaves fly straight through the remaining copies of me, showing them to be illusions.

Elowen points to the illusionary Severins, saying no each time, and they disappear, leaving her with only five to pick from. She walks past each of us, studying us closely. When she gets to me, she peers into my eyes, but there’s no spark of recognition in hers, and she continues on.

She says no again, and a glamour pops, exposing the wood nymph representative. Another no, and Naomi appears. Then Elowen stops in front of one of the other Severin’s and presses a finger to his shoulder. In a flash of light, the gnome representative appears.

“I’m sorry, but you’ve lost this trial,” Varyn says.

With a chime, I’m swept up in a column of light, which clears to show all nine Severins back in place, with me located in a new position. The bridal crystal is going to scramble us each time to keep the trial fair, so nothing the previous contestants learned about the various Severins will pertain to the next person’s attempt.

“As winner of the second trial, Ruby will go next.”

Right as her hour glass flips over, the gnome drops to her hands and knees and presses her palms to the ground. A deep, booming song pours from her tiny throat, showing the power of her magic. It ripples outward through the earth and echoes back to her.

I can feel the magic moving but can’t interpret its meaning.

Ruby, however, leaps to her feet and points to four of the Severins, saying “no” each time. Then she trots toward another and points. “You’re too light. You’re a no.”

The glamour disappears, and that copy of me turns into the gnome representative.

Ah, Ruby uses feedback from the ground to feel the weight of each of us—or in the case of the illusions, the lack thereof. Clever.

She dismisses Naomi and the wood nymph representative in the same manner, then stands, caught between me and the other shadow fae. We are both six-and-a-half feet tall, both well muscled. I’m not certain there’s a discernable difference in our weights.

Ruby steps up to the closest Severin and pats his knee, and Meloria’s representative appears.

“I’m sorry, but you’ve lost this trial,” Varyn says.

The world turns white as the ancient magic picks me up again to deposit me in a new position.

Without waiting for Varyn to give her permission, Meloria steps forward, her hour glass turning over. Her shadows whip from her skin, picking up clumps of Elowen’s dropped leaves and flinging them at each Severin. Each time they pass through one of the illusions, Meloria dismisses that fake copy of me with a “no.”

Once she’s down to the five of us, she tries the tactic again, throwing the leaves straight at each of our faces. But the glamours hold, exactly as a good glamour should. Even though Naomi and the gnome are far too short to have any solid mass where my face is, the leaves still bounce off.

Meloria scowls and prowls around each of us. Then she shrugs as if she’s made a decision. Her shadows spool out of her, wrapping around each of the Severins’ necks. Since none of the glamours disappear, it seems Meloria gambled correctly—her shadows do not count as a touch.

Smug pleasure twists her lips, and she squeezes her hands.

The band wrapped around my neck tightens, as do all the rest. Three of us, myself included, immediately have enough trouble breathing that we start to wheeze. Meloria points to the two who are unaffected and says, “No.” Naomi and the gnome representative appear.

Meloria turns back to the three of us still in the game. Her hands clench again. The cord around my neck clamps down, cutting off all air. One of the other Severins collapses, and Meloria dismisses them with a “no” that reveals the wood nymph representative.

It’s me and Meloria’s lap dog left. What should I do? If I collapse immediately, will she think I’m him trying to help her win? In point of fact, why hasn’t he given up already?

I try to fall, but the bridal stone’s magic won’t let me move, which means I’ll have to actually pass out to fall down. Dammit, I so wanted to fool her. I remain standing, even as my lungs burn and the edges of my vision start to go black.

The other Severin collapses, and Meloria leaps toward me, her hand smacking into my chest at the same second she releases her shadow noose from my neck.

Horror shivers ice down my spine. Goddess, no. It can’t be true!

But it is.

Triumph blazing from her eyes, Meloria smirks at me. “I win.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Hannah

Shit. Meloria just won the trial. I’m now living in the darkest timeline. Everyone’s going to sprout a black goatee any second now.

I hate that she won, and I super-duper extra hate that she did it by hurting people. The wood nymph representative is still unconscious, and even Meloria’s own minion looks rough.

And Severin… He stands in front of her, proud and defiant, but there’s a red mark around his neck. She freaking strangled him! Anger fills me. I’m not normally a violent person, but she’s sure tempting me to go all stabby on her ass.

Varyn sounds like he’s chewing glass as he reads the parchment that appears. “Meloria is the current winner of this trial with a time of thirty-seven seconds.”

I get a bit of a reprieve while they revive the representatives, and I spend it wracking my brains. What can I do? And how can I do it as quickly as possible? I not only need to find the real Severin, I have to beat Meloria’s time.

“Finn,” I say. “You with me, little bud?”

He presses against my leg, looking up at me with trusting eyes. “Always.”

As soon as everyone’s back on their feet, columns of white light swallow Severin and the four representatives and whirl them through the air. More columns are added, and by the time nine Severins appear spread across the middle of the garden, I have zero clue which one is him.

Varyn shoots me a glance.

I nod and step forward, and my hour glass flips over.

“Bird friends! Come to me now!” I call out. “Sit on the heads of these people and show me who’s real.”

Severin’s idea from last week pays off big time. All those trips to his garden to practice my magic mean these birds know me. Masses of them fly from the trees, my robin friend in the lead.

Clumps of two or three try to sit on top of each of the Severins, and four of the groups drop to the ground with a confused flap of wings when those Severins turn out to be nothing but illusions.

“No, no, no, no!” I point at each of them, and they pop out of existence, clearing the area. “Finn, go smell the others and find Severin!” All of my research has told me that glamours are made to fool all of a person’s senses. But Finn’s sense of smell is way keener than any human or fae’s, and I’m betting he can tell me something.

My familiar races forward, nose to the ground. He reaches the first Severin and yells, “Wrong.”

I say “no” to that one, and Naomi appears.

Finn slips past the next, saying, “Maybe.”

Then he discovers the wood nymph and gnome representatives for me before finishing with another maybe. After making one last circle of the two Severins left, Finn looks at me, his voice a whine, “I can’t tell. They’re both smoky.”

“It’s okay, little bud. That’s the glamour trying its hardest to fool you. You did great.”

Good news? I got it down to two people a lot more quickly than Meloria did. Bad news? I’m out of ideas for how to use my magic to figure out the rest.

It’s up to me now, regular old me, Hannah Wylde.

But I’m not regular! I’m a witch with a whole coven of besties at my back. I’m the youngest mayor ever of Ferndale Falls, ready to fight for my town.

I’m the woman who loves Severin.

The first Severin looks exactly like the real thing, down to the unbelievably perfect hair and the tiny smirk at the corner of his lips. I stare into his eyes, looking for something, a spark, a connection, but there’s nothing.

That’s fine. If I have a connection with the other Severin, this will be easy!

Only… the second Severin looks exactly like the first. His eyes give nothing away. I had some intro psych classes in college, the kind that’s supposed to help you deal with people in your political life, and I remember learning that everything about people’s eyes is down to the micro expressions the surrounding muscles make. With the bridal crystal’s magic locking them in place, they can’t show anything.

Which means I don’t have any way to know which man is Severin.

Despair swamps me as I stand halfway between them, afraid to move. Which is the real Severin? Which is the fake? The sand keeps falling in my hour glass, reminding me there’s no freaking time for hesitation. But what if I make the wrong decision? Oh, god! I can’t get this close and fail. Fifty-fifty sounds like fine odds if you’re playing cards with friends or something, but when you’re determining the future of thousands of people and your one shot at true love, it freaking sucks.

My magic swirls inside of me, wanting to do something, but I can’t think of a single animal that can help me now.

The start of a sob hitches my breath.

Magic surges from the right in a flow of power I know almost as well as I know my own. My magic leaps forward to join it, tangling together just like it does when we make love.

It’s Severin! I know it in my heart. I feel it in my soul. I leap toward him, my arms circling his neck.

The second we touch, he’s released from the magical hold. His arms crush me to him. “Hannah, my enchanting Hannah.”

“I found you.” Happy tears blur his dear face.

Varyn’s voice rings through the garden. “Hannah is the winner of the trial of discernment with a time of thirty-three seconds.”

“Yes!” I give a loud whoop. Joy fills my chest with bubbling brightness. I did it! I won! I saved Ferndale Falls. I’ve given Severin and his people a permanent home here on Earth.

My hands tighten around Severin’s neck as I press closer. I also won an entire year with the man I love.

A loud chime echoes from the pillar of rose quartz, followed by a booming voice: “King Severin, you have three successful candidates to choose from, Elowen of the wood nymphs, Ruby of the gnomes, and Hannah of the human witches. Who do you choose as your bride?”

Severin meets my eyes. “I choose Hannah, my betrothed.”

Finn rushes over, yipping with joy. “See! I told you I’d help you win!”

“Thank you.” I crouch down and give him a hug. “You’re the best familiar ever.”

He licks my chin in a little kiss.

Severin leans over to scratch around Finn’s ears, a little hesitant, like someone who’s never had a pet, but trying. “Thank you, Finn.”

Naomi reaches us next, throwing her arms around me as soon as I stand up. “You did it!”

“Thank you for all of your help!” I sink against her for a moment, thankful once again that my friend gives the best hugs.

My phone vibrates in my jeans, and Naomi laughs. “That’ll be the others saying congrats. I used the group chat to let the Witch Bitches know!”

Varyn claps Severin on the shoulder and gives me a nod, grinning happily.

Ruby and Elowen approach and offer congratulations, the two walking very close together. And Elowen’s made herself shorter! It’s the opposite of what she did to climb the waterfall, her height contracting until she’s only a couple of feet taller than Ruby. As they turn away, I grin. They’re even holding hands!

Meloria stands frozen, her eyes flashing pure fury as her hands clench and release, like she’s trying to strangle everyone again. Her minion flutters by her side, but she ignores him.

“Banish her from Earth, or she’ll continue to play her petty games,” Severin growls in my ear as he steps close behind me. “As the winner of the competition, you currently have that power. It’s an ancient safeguard, to prevent bloodshed and preserve the sanctity of the trials.”

“I don’t know how.”

“I’ll show you.” His magic flares behind me, and mine rises to join it with a third strand of power coming from the bridal crystal. He whispers words in my ear, and I repeat them as our magic surges forward. “I banish thee, Queen Meloria of Markan. You and all who swear allegiance to you are not welcome on Earth.”

A force like a giant invisible hand plucks her up and tosses her through the sky in the direction of the waterfall and the door to Faerie. Her representative is hurled after her, and another two shadow fae are yanked from inside the palace, all of them disappearing from view.

“What an easy way to get rid of spies,” Severin murmurs. “I approve.”

I spin to face him, my heart skipping as I remember something. “If the trials are over. The temporary protection spell for Ferndale Falls is going to stop! We need to—”

“It’s all right,” Severin strokes a soothing hand down my back, and a couple of his shadows slip free to coil around my waist and legs. “I already paid my best casters. They put the permanent spell in place yesterday.”

Shock zips through me. “But… but…” Yep, that’s me! The queen of eloquence. I finally force out, “Why? You didn’t know you’d be able to stay.”

“I’ve grown rather attached to the town. I wanted Ferndale Falls to be protected, no matter what happened here.” He brushes the back of his fingers over my cheek. “I wanted you to be protected.”

“Thank you.” I throw my arms around him as relief crashes over me. Ferndale Falls is finally safe. “That means more than you can ever know.”

“There’s one more thing.” Severin flicks his fingers, and our marriage agreement appears in his hands.

Excitement zings through me, bubbling my blood and setting my butterflies fluttering. I get to marry him! I get to marry the man I love!

Then Severin raises the parchment and rips it down the middle, tearing my heart in two.

“Wait, what? You don’t want to marry me?” I can barely speak past the lump lodged in my throat. Oh, no. No, no, no. It really was all fake for him.

“No.” He shakes his head.

All of my butterflies die and drop to the bottom of my stomach like little stones. Oh, god. This can’t be happening. I did it. I won the trial. So why don’t I get the guy? Sure it’s only for a year, but a year with Severin would be better than a lifetime with anyone else.

“Not like that,” Severin says. “Not with such limitations.”

I gape at him. What does that mean?

Severin drops to one knee before me. “Hannah Wylde, will you be my wife and my queen? Not for a year and a day, but forever.”

“Forever?” It comes out as a squeak from behind the fingers I have pressed to my lower face.

“Nothing less will do,” he growls. “I lived a half-life before I met you, an existence lacking color and warmth. Then you blazed into my world, full of fire and determination. You’ve brought me joy, lighting all my shadows and showing me everything I’ve been missing.

“I love you, Hannah. I love you with everything I am, your name written upon my soul, your name whispered by every beat of my heart. You are already mine in here.” He presses his palm to the center of his chest, then extends that hand to me. “Be mine forever.”

I stop breathing, frozen in place, my whole body quivering with shock. I’ve been through so much in the last hour with all the stress of the third trial. It’s been scary and exciting and wonderful, but this…

Nothing can touch this.

Giddy joy fills me until I feel like I can fly. He loves me.

Severin loves me!

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Severin

Hannah stares down at me, eyes wide, hands pressed over her mouth, completely still. I’m used to reading her every emotion in those beautiful brown eyes, but they’re currently so overwhelmed by shock that I can’t see anything else.

“Hannah?”

She nods. Is she saying yes to my question of marriage or acknowledging her name? Goddess, this is excruciating! My past self would use a truth spell to force her to talk. I grit my teeth and swallow down the impulse.

No more contracts. No compulsions. No matter how much I want her, she will come to me freely, or she won’t come to me at all.

Her hands finally fall from her face, revealing her glorious smile.

Hope dawns in my chest, the sunshine of her joy striking me anew.

“Yes, Severin. All the yes. Of course I’ll marry you.” She reaches for me. “I love you.”

She loves me! The warm feeling in my chest expands as my dearest dream comes true. My wonderful witch has such a huge heart that even a reformed rogue like me fits inside.

My shadows slip from my control as I leap to my feet, reaching for her even more quickly than my arms. They wrap around her, pulling her to me. “You love me?” I ask, greedily wanting to hear it again.

“I do.” Her hand cups my cheek, a wealth of love shining in her eyes.

“Do you have any idea what it means that you trust me? That you look upon me with admiration instead of fear?” One of my shadow tendrils slides up her forearm to coil around it like a cat begging to be petted. All of me loves her, even this, the darkest part of me. “Goddess, Hannah, what you do to me.”

I crush her to me, taking her mouth with mine in a hot press of lips and tongue. Our magic mingles in a tingling rush.

The congratulatory cheers from the others crest, then fall silent, and eventually Varyn clears his throat.

No. Kingly duty can wait. There’s nothing more important than my bride.

Unwilling to give up Hannah’s sweet mouth, I extend my wings and leap into the air, soaring up the side of the tower that holds my bedroom. My shadows unlatch the window, and I fly us inside.

Only once I’ve tipped Hannah back onto my bed do I part from her. She lies before me, gold-flecked eyes full of love and desire, face flushed, lips swollen from my kisses.

“Goddess, you’re beautiful.”

“So are you,” she says, sliding a foot up my thigh.

I catch it before it reaches my erection and remove her little human shoe. Then I divest her of the other, tossing it over my shoulder. Her feet are ticklish, and my shadows slip over them until she giggles and squirms.

My hands glide up her denim-covered legs to open the fastenings at her waist. I could use magic to remove her clothes, but I don’t want to. I want to unwrap her like the present she is. My shadows lift her from the bed so that my hands can slide her pants down her long legs. Then I climb back up her body, licking and nipping at her skin until she calls out, her voice pure need, “Severin.”

I skip over her underwear and push up the hem of her shirt to lave my tongue over the dip just inside her hipbone. Then I keep sliding higher, unbuttoning her blouse and pushing it from her shoulders so my shadows can slip it from her arms.

Her skin tastes sweet and salty and delicious, and I tease her favorite spot on her neck until she makes that breathy little moan that drives me wild. My cock leaps, straining against the leather of my pants.

For all my patience undressing her, I have none for my own person. In a whisper of magic, my clothes disappear. The satin of her skin against mine, I sink onto her, my erection coating her stomach in my seed.

Hannah gasps, her pupils dilating.

Goddess, I love seeing her desire for me, so pure and uninhibited. I groan and kiss her, plunging my tongue into her mouth as my hand cups her breast. Another shiver of magic, and her bra disappears, leaving the hard pebble of her nipple straining against my palm. I pluck at it, swallowing her gasps of pleasure.

Drifting lower, my fingers toy with the edge of her panties, dipping under and then sliding away until her foot hooks around my leg, heel digging into the back of my thigh, pulling me to her. She pants against my mouth, each breath a tiny whisper of need.

I roll to the side, giving myself better access as I make her panties disappear. My fingers slip through her wet folds, rolling over her sensitive nub until her hips lift. “That’s it, my sweet, my good girl. Already so wet. You’re going to come. You’re going to get all nice and ready for me.”

My shadows glide over her skin, twining around her breasts, pulling on her nipples. I plunge two fingers into her core, stroking her as more shadows brush her clit until her hips undulate.

My erection throbs, leaking more of my aphrodisiac seed onto her thigh. I gather it and coat her with it. Then I pump out another handful and push it into her depths, working my fingers deep.

“Oh, god,” Hannah moans. “Severin.”

“I’m getting this pretty little pussy all ready to take my knot. I’m going to stretch you so full.” I slip a third finger in and curl them until they brush over a softer spot inside her.

She starts to shake, her nails digging into my shoulder.

“Come for me now, my enchanting little witch.” I plunge into her with my fingers, brushing over that spot again and again. “Be my good girl and come all over my fingers.”

Hannah screams, head tipping back, body arching off the bed. Her muscles clamp so tightly I almost come, imagining how it will feel to have her wrapped around my length.

I hold her close, shadows stroking her skin. My hand continues to work her, keeping her riding the edge. My fangs scrape over her throat, making her shiver and gasp.

“Severin, I need you.”

“I’ve got you.” Unable to resist her any longer, I move up over her, and my shadows lift her butt, pillowing under her until the angle’s perfect.

In one smooth move, I slide my hand free and thrust into her, burying myself fully in the delicious pressure of her velvet heat. A groan tears from my throat. “Goddess, I love you.”

She flutters around me as her expressive eyes lock with mine, showing me everything she’s feeling as she screams my name in delight.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Hannah

Severin keeps me riding so close to the edge of orgasm that all it takes is him telling me he loves me to tip me over.

He doesn’t let up, moving in and out of me in long, deep strokes, his shadows caressing my skin, coiling around my legs and arms. It’s all too much, my body trembling in constant pleasure.

“My love, my Hannah, my good girl,” he chants as he fills me with his dick. The shadow tendrils slip into my ass in a tingle of sensation, stroke over my clit with a vibrating hum. I am completely consumed by him, overwhelmed.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

My love for him is all-encompassing, and so is his possession of me. Severin strips away all my cares, all my responsibilities, leaving behind nothing but love and pleasure. I lose myself in the stretch of his girth, the scent of his skin, the growl of his voice.

“Hannah, my Hannah, my enchanting little witch, taking my cock so well.” He thrusts deep, sending bursts of tingles rippling through me. “Do you feel how hard you make me? This is all for you.”

I make the breathy little moan that only Severin can coax from me, my core clamping tight.

“Good girl,” he growls. “Just like that. Take my cock.”

His body presses me into the bed, his weight delicious on top of me in a way I didn’t get to experience in our previous encounters. It makes this time feel even more intimate. I revel in it, arching from the mattress to rub my chest against his, the pressure on my nipples shooting straight to my sensitive nub.

His shadows stroke me, continuing their caresses until every inch of my skin feels electric.

I run my hands over his shoulders, lick at his chest, breathe in the pine and leather and smoke of his skin. My knees raise to cradle his sides as he rocks into me, filling me with his length and shadows.

“Severin,” I gasp, his name a chant to the god of pleasure. “Severin, please.”

His mouth takes mine in a searing kiss I feel to my soul. Then he presses his forehead to mine. “Hannah, my love. You’re going to take my knot.”

“Yes.” I nod, my inner muscles clenching around him in a wave of tingling warmth. “Oh, yes.”

Severin growls and thrusts harder, rocking us together as the pleasure builds and builds.

My heart races, I can barely catch my breath, and each exhale becomes a moan.

“That’s it,” he pants. “Come for me, my good girl.”

I wail as pleasure explodes from my center, pulsing outward in rippling waves.

Severin roars, his hips snapping forward, and the pressure and stretch of his knot growing inside me makes my orgasm go on and on.

He settles on top of me, pressing kisses to my lips as I lie spent and satiated. Then his hand slips under me to splay across my butt, and his shadows hold me steady as he rolls us onto our sides. A huge swell of pressure tugs at my entrance, and I gasp, a shiver of aftershock going through me.

His hips shift, moving the knot inside me. “Feel that? That’s all for you. Only for you, my love.”

I clamp down, making him groan. “It’s so big, bigger than I ever imagined.”

He smirks.

“How long does it last?” I ask.

“At least ten to twelve hours this first time. Especially if…” The strangest look comes over his face, and Severin scoots his upper body back away from me. His hand brushes over my chest, finding a tender spot.

“Oww.” I look down. A set of two marks, looking like fangs, are tattooed over my heart. “What is that?”

“It’s a mate mark. I have one too.” His tone sounds awed, and he touches his own chest, marked with a larger version of the same tattoo. Then he looks at me. “Close your eyes.”

I do, and his magic surges outward, calling mine to it, a tingling in my chest.

“Do you feel that?”

“I do.”

“The way our magic mingled during our previous encounters must have been the mate bond wanting to form. It’s solidified now,” he says. “This is amazing. My people haven’t had fated mates for three-hundred years. Everyone assumed we lost the ability when the Dark God changed us from elves into shadow fae.”

“What does it mean that we’re mated?”

“It means we were fated to be together. I was always meant to come to Earth to find you, my love.” He presses a kiss to my palm and flattens my hand over his heart. “You, Hannah, are the missing piece of my soul.”

“Oh, Severin.” I melt against him. “That’s so lovely.”

“It’s the truth. You are my future, my happiness, my hope.” His grip tightens on my hip. “And not just mine. You’ve also given me another gift. If the shadow fae can once again have fated mates, it means we’re no longer cursed. We can truly find happiness, and it’s all because of you and the bargain you made that allowed us to remain here on Earth.”

“The bargain you made, you mean.” I tap my finger against his chest. “I seem to remember you were rather persuasive.”

“The bargain we made together.” He plucks up my hand and presses a kiss to that finger tip, then pulls me close. “The best damned bargain of my life.”

I wiggle a little to feel the knot, to feel the physical connection between us that goes along with the mate bond. A surprise yawn cracks my jaw as deep fatigue rolls over me. “Oh, sorry. I’ve been running on adrenaline all day, and I guess it’s finally caught up to me.”

“The mating is tiring in and of itself, let alone after the trial you just went through.” He pulls me close, presses a kiss to my temple, and has his shadows pull the covers over us. “Rest now.”

I snuggle into his side, murmuring, “I love you, Severin.”

“And I love you, my darling Hannah.”

At some point in the middle of the night, I try to roll over, but Severin’s knot stops me with a sharp pull against my entrance that sends a jolt of pleasure racing through me. I come fully awake. My muscles clamp down, and it’s his turn to groan as his hips snap forward.

“Can we…” I give a little wiggle. “Can we do stuff with the knot in there?”

Severin flicks his fingers, lighting a candelabra on the nightstand so that a golden glow fills the area around the bed. He rolls onto his back, his shadows bringing me along until I straddle him. “Let’s try it and see.”

His knot only lets me move a little, but I bounce on him, both making him hit deep and tugging at my entrance in a way that feels really good, especially when the shadow tendrils from his dick spread out to stroke my clit.

I shudder through another orgasm, hands plastered to his chest, head thrown back.

Severin groans in pleasure, his hips snapping up as my core milks him.

I collapse onto him, and he holds me close, stroking my back until I fall asleep all over again.

The next time I wake up, I’m curled into Severin’s side. We must have separated in our sleep, and the full sunlight streaming through the window says it’s well past dawn.

I duck under the heavy brocade comforter, sliding down to settle between his thighs. He’s erect, but the base of his dick’s no longer swollen. Do blow jobs make him knot? Time to find out—for science!

He wakes the moment I lick his length like a lollypop, hissing and throwing off the comforter. “What are you doing, my betrothed?”

I grin and wrap my lips around the thick head of his erection, fluttering my tongue.

“Did you think you could have breakfast without me?” His shadows spool outward, lifting and turning me until I straddle his face. “Much better.”

Then his tongue teases over my clit, showing me how right he is, and I suck his dick into my mouth, eager for my own “breakfast.”

CHAPTER FORTY

Severin

We laze in bed, ignoring our grumbling stomachs, neither of us wanting to get up.

Hannah lies curled against my side, head pillowed on my shoulder, her fingers tracing over the tattoos on my chest. My shadows extend, eager to caress her hand. She smiles, her cheek moving against my skin. “This is nice.”

“Nice?” I arch an eyebrow. “What a thoroughly inadequate word.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with nice!” She snuggles closer, her bent knee sliding up my legs. “What would you call it, oh wordsmith?”

“Glorious, transcendent.” My arm tightens around her. “More than I can ever deserve.”

“What?” She startles. “Why?”

“Up until a couple of months ago, I thought I served a righteous deity.” The words don’t want to come, but I force them. I’ve never admitted this next part to anyone, not even my friends. But my betrothed deserves the truth. “Once I saw the Dark God for who he truly is, I also had to reevaluate my view of myself. I realized I’d been a villain.”

She pushes up onto her elbow to stare at me. “You were following orders!”

“Is that any excuse?” I offer her a wry smile. “I certainly enjoyed the power of my position.”

“You are powerful.” She taps my chest. “But everything I’ve seen you do with your power is good. The revitalization of town, the beautiful gardens, even the way you take care of the tulips! Nothing’s been villainous.”

“I’m reformed. I came to Earth for a new life, a different life far from war and destruction.” My hand strokes her back. “I never thought I’d have anything like this: love, comfort, a home. I don’t deserve it. But I’ll take it and revel in it, spend every day trying to deserve you.”

“Oh, Severin.”

The love in her eyes undoes me. I’ve told her my worst, and my Hannah shows me nothing but compassion. Goddess, how did I get so lucky? I kiss her, soft and slow, my shadows coiling around her, pulling her closer.

Then a faint knock at the door makes me grin with anticipation. A half hour ago, I sent one of my shadows slipping through the palace without Hannah realizing, carrying very specific instructions, and this should be the reward.

My shadow tendril opens the door and picks up the waiting tray, carrying it in to the bedside table. The sweet smell of pastries and spice fills the air.

Hannah sits up, tucking a sheet around her. “Is that cinnamon rolls from Cake My Day?”

“Your favorite.” I set a plate filled with one of the rolls on her lap and take another for myself, the sugar and spice of the cinnamon dancing across my tongue and making me moan.

She takes her own appreciative bite as well. “Is this what every morning’s going to be like? Treats from Cake My Day?”

“It will be if I have anything to say about it,” I growl. “I refuse to eat any breakfast not made by a brownie.”

“What about waffles?”

“They may be the only exception.” I smirk. “Trust me. You didn’t have to eat the porridge coming out of the palace kitchens, and you never will.”

Amusement dances in her eyes. “That bad?”

“The worst.” I give a pretend shudder, making her laugh, the joyful sound ringing through my soul. I take another bite of brownie-baked bliss and pour us both coffees. I’ve taken a liking to the dark, bitter beverage, though I add sugar and milk to Hannah’s until it turns a light brown.

She takes an appreciative sip, then says, “That’s one thing we still need to find for the town, a dedicated coffee shop. If you like black coffee, you’re going to love espresso.”

“With Ferndale Falls now thriving, I’m sure you’ll attract one. And if we don’t, I can always mesmerize the appropriate human to get them to come.”

“Severin!” Her eyes go wide. “You can’t do that.”

“Of course I can.” I frown. “My magic’s easily powerful enough.”

“No, I mean it’s not right.”

“Ah, well. You’ll need to act as my moral compass. Mine’s still a bit rusty.” And really, all’s fair in love and good food, so maybe a tiny compulsion wouldn’t be so bad if this espresso is as good as she says. I am, after all, still shadow fae. I never claimed to relinquish all of my devious ways. And if something will make my Hannah happy…

I hide my smirk behind my coffee cup and enjoy the smile on her face as she takes another bite.

As soon as we finish eating, I lead her into the bathroom.

Hannah’s eyes go wide as she points. “Holy shit! Is that a bathtub or a swimming pool?”

“Both.” I smirk, gesturing to the marble bathing pool. “It can be any temperature you want.”

She spins slowly, taking in the gold-veined black marble sinks and counters, the fixtures all made out of gold. “This is seriously lush.”

I hug her from behind, watching us in the mirror. “Fit for a queen.”

“I’m really going to live here?”

“If you want.” I press a kiss to the top of her head. “Although I’m rather fond of your cottage as well. We could keep it, use it as a getaway when palace life gets to be too much.”

“I’d love that.”

I scoop her into my arms and carry her into the pool, settling in the hot water with her on my lap. My soapy hands glide over her soft skin and comb through her wet hair until she melts against me with a sigh of contentment.

Her eyes sparkle as they meet mine, as bright as a sky full of stars.

My love, my fated mate. I’m still in awe I’ve been given such a gift, one I never thought possible for one such as me. I’m not worthy of her, but I’m far too selfish to give her up. I’ll simply need to become the man she deserves. And if breakfast in bed and my luxurious bathing pool make her happy, then she’ll have all this and more.

I’m amazed all over again at how much her happiness sparks my own. My past self thought happiness was something to be snatched from other people and hoarded selfishly. Hannah has shown me the opposite is true. Nothing will ever make me as happy as bringing her joy.

When I fly Hannah to work, we sign a new agreement in order to anchor the palace on Earth, but this one has no expiration date.

I return to the palace, lift the tapestry in the foyer, and step through the door to Avalon. The same room, even though a mirror of the one I just left, feels immediately different. Magic thrums powerfully beneath my feet, but the light dims, the colors fade, and the air loses the sweetness of flowers.

Yet even here there is now hope. Shadow fae walk past, their steps full of purpose.

“Severin!” Daigan greets me as I stride into the throne room. He stands from the regent chair to give me a hearty clap on the shoulder, his shadow wings tucked against his back. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

“They are indeed.” I grin. “I will marry my Hannah in a month. You will be there and stand with me.”

“Will I have to dress like a human?” Still wearing fighting leathers, my warlord scowls at my fine cotton shirt and pinstriped waistcoat.

“You do realize our ancestors wore clothes not too dissimilar to this?” I point to a tapestry, where an elf of three-hundred years ago sports breeches and a long open coat trimmed in brocade over a heavily embroidered waistcoat.

“Bah.”

“Cotton or silk won’t hurt you, old friend. You may even come to like them.” I pass the throne and continue through the door leading outside. Only, here in Avalon, there is no garden.

I crouch and press a palm to the ground, and for the first time, I note a tiny answering spark of seeds that may yet spring to life. “It feels better.”

“We’ve been working on it as much as we can,” Daigan says. “I’ve still got everyone with plant magic working the sun houses that grow our food.”

Only a few other wielders of plant magic are sprinkled throughout the population. My gift has always been unusual for a shadow fae, who tend to be stronger in the less nature-based areas of magic, such as glamour and illusions. I often think Avalon granted a royal this power out of desperation, wanting once more to bloom.

I shoot a pulse of plant magic into the ground, letting it ripple outward into the dead forest that surrounds the palace. Little echoes ping back, tiny bits of plant life, stirring, growing.

“Now that things are settled on Earth, I’ll visit more often and work on the land.” I stand. “Avalon will be beautiful again. If not for us, then for our children.”

Daigan grunts.

“In the meantime, I want you to put yourself into the rotation for Earth. You deserve to live for a time among trees.”

He frowns, opening his mouth to protest.

“Before you refuse, hear me out.” I smirk. “I found a brownie baker for the town. You can have all the bread and pastries you desire.”

“Damn you, Severin.” My friend shakes his head, a smile quirking the corners of his lips. “You had to go and say the magic words.”

“We should also consider if there are more shadow fae who can begin businesses in Ferndale Falls. We have one dress shop so far, but if we open more, those fae can find permanent homes on Earth, which will free up more spots in the palace.”

“I’ll put out a call for interested people.”

“Consult with Varyn about shop ideas.”

We wrap up a few more matters, and I spend several hours walking the forest and sending healing magic into the tiny new bits of plant life poking above the soil.

Then I return to Earth, visiting the live forest around the palace, and sending healing magic into the trees. All the growing foliage around me resonates with my power and fills me with the heady vitality of life. I will always care about Avalon, but Earth is now my true home. This is my forest, my small town, and my amazing lady love.

I launch into the air, flying toward Ferndale Falls, eager to arrange a few more surprises for my enchanting little witch. I want to buy her a wedding band that matches her engagement ring, and I also want Haute and Bothered to provide whichever wedding gown she may desire, as well as the dresses for the bridal party. She’ll say it’s all too much, but what good is it to be king if I can’t spoil my love?

A flash of red in the corner of my eye makes me come to a hover.

Lukendevener soars toward me in his weredragon form, his red wings cupping the air as he comes to a halt before me. “Severin, I’ve discovered what it might mean that your magic mixed with Mayor Wylde’s.”

I arch one eyebrow.

“I think it means you’re fated mates,” the dragon says. “You’ll probably need to knot her to be certain. All the texts say a mate mark should appear.”

“You mean like this one?” I tug aside my clothing to display the new tattoo over my heart, my fingers lingering as they trace over it. I’m still amazed it happened, that I’m lucky enough to be bound to Hannah.

He scowls, his wings stirring the air in agitation. “You could have told me.”

“It only happened last night, and I was in the middle of knotting my mate.” I glare right back. “You certainly weren’t on my mind.”

He grunts. “Fair enough.”

Goddess, I’m not handling this well. I need to smooth over relations with other fae, and the dragons will make for powerful allies. I admire Hannah’s ability to talk to others. What would she do?

“Thank you for researching this for me,” I grit out, hoping it doesn’t sound as reluctant to his ears.

“I wish it hadn’t taken so long,” he says, sounding as uncomfortable as I feel. “That library of mine…” He shakes his head.

“You need to find help. Perhaps one of the humans.”

“Maybe.”

“Come.” I gesture toward town. “Let me buy you an ale for your troubles.”

With a snap of his great wings, Lukendevener turns to fly beside me. We soar into town and land on the green near The Thirsty Tusk.

The tulips run over, surrounding me, tiny leaf arms waving for attention. I give them each little pulses of healing energy.

“This is fascinating.” The dragon eyes them keenly, reaching into his invisible pocket to pull parchment and pen from what seems thin air. He starts scribbling. “Did you make them?”

“I made the original flowers, but I didn’t animate them.” I brush my fingers over the last few tulips. “That was one of the human witches.”

His eyes narrow. “They have a surprising level of power for non-fae.”

I smirk at him. “If I’ve learned one thing here on Earth, it’s never underestimate a human woman.”

The light drops to a smooth golden glow as we step inside the pub, and the rich smell of ale fills the air. A few groups of humans and shadow fae sit sprinkled across the room, but things will get busier come evening.

Rune sits at the bar, talking to the orc bartender.

“Two ales,” I say to Thorvinn, then spy that Rune’s almost finished his current drink. “Make that three.”

The orc sets the frothing tankards in front of us, and we drink, the hoppy ale strong and refreshing.

“I’m surprised to see you here, since your contract to protect Hannah ended yesterday,” I say to the werewolf. “I thought you’d be back in Alarria by now.”

“The apartment you rented is still mine for the rest of the month,” Rune says. “And the gold you paid me isn’t good for much in Alarria. But here…” He shrugs and takes another sip.

“I like it here, too,” I say, a bit surprised to admit it to the two of them. “Now that there’s an orc pub and a brownie bakery, Ferndale Falls is perfect.”

“Not to mention the pizza,” the werewolf adds.

The dragon grunts and lifts his tankard in a salute before drinking.

We drink for a bit in silence, but it’s a comfortable silence. I think I like it.

Then a group of women enter, laughing and bright and yelling for cider. They’re the witch friends of Hannah’s.

The men on either side of me tense, their bodies shifting slightly so they can watch the women without being completely obvious.

“Yes, Earth certainly has its charms,” I tease, then grin as Hannah calls my name.

I spin to find her framed by the door of the pub, sunlight pouring in all around her.

I hurry over and take her into my arms, kissing her as if I haven’t seen her for days, for indeed, it feels that way.

She gives me a breathless chuckle. “Hi to you, too.”

“Hello, my love.” I hold her to me, my very best reason for loving Ferndale Falls.

My Hannah. My joy. My home.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Hannah

With the pressure of the trials over and Ferndale Falls doing so well, the next couple of weeks fly by in a blur of joy as I finally practice the whole get-a-life thingy. Severin’s good at making his own happiness a priority and has been teaching me his “ways,” which boil down to sex and pastries.

So much sex!

So. Many. Pastries.

Underneath all of Severin’s smoking I-can-crush-nations vibes lies a man with an eensy obsession with baked goods. He’s learning the internet so he can find new recipes, which he takes to Pepperpot to try out. When he brings me pastries every morning from Cake My Day, there’s always at least one new one in the mix.

He even got the brownie to create healthy pet treats and gives Finn fox biscuits every day. My familiar totally loves him now. When we do movie nights on my couch, Finn sprawls across both our laps, blissed out on fox treats and tummy rubs.

When I tease my familiar for giving in to bribery, he humphs at me. “Well, of course I give in. It’s treats. I don’t see you complaining when Severin brings you human treats, especially those spicy ones that smell.”

“Yep, you got me. I never say no to a cinnamon roll.” I scratch around Finn’s ears until he purrs. I don’t tell him the new fox treats are actually good for him, made with the extra taurine he needs in his diet.

Severin also had his conjurers make a little fox house in the corner of the palace gardens near the back gate, which now has a “doggie” door cut into it.

We decided that up until we get married, we’ll spend work nights at my cottage and weekends at the palace. Once we’re married, those times will probably flip, with the cottage acting more like a weekend getaway.

And the wedding… Hoo, boy, the wedding. Severin is not a man who does things by halves. He initially wanted to get married the day after the trial, but all I could picture was my mother’s head exploding in shock, so I asked for three months. We compromised on one month, which both delighted and horrified Mom. She’s ecstatic I’m getting married but can’t imagine arranging a wedding in only a month. I had to promise her I had everything well in hand, saying I wanted to support local businesses instead of using her connections in the capital. It’s not a lie—I will be using local businesses. They’ll simply be fae ones that use magic to get things done with a snap of the fingers.

The gnomes are doing the jewelry, the wood nymphs are doing the flowers, the pixies are doing dinner, the fae are doing the clothes, the brownie is doing the wedding cake, and Jared is doing the photography.

I get to pick out my flowers and dresses, but I don’t make a single attempt to get between Severin and the wedding cake order. If ever a man had an opinion on baked goods, it’s him. Every time I overhear him and Pepperpot discussing it, an extra layer ends up added to the cake, each a different flavor. They finally settle on five: vanilla with raspberry filling, zesty lemon, chocolate with hazelnuts, spice cake, and a Faerie confection flavored with lavender and elderflowers. The thing’s going to be so freaking tall it’s going to take extra magic to keep it standing, so it doesn’t turn into the confectionary version of the Leaning Tower of Pisa! But I’m happy he’s happy, and it’s not like I’m going to hate a reason to eat extra cake.

The Friday evening before the wedding, I work late in order to set up everything so I can be gone for a week. Severin and I are going on a honeymoon, and it’s going to be my first vacation in years. Hannah of only a couple of months ago would never have considered taking time off. New me can’t wait! Sun, sand, the sea… and Severin at the beach. I already bought him a pair of small swim trunks like Daniel Craig wore in that James Bond film. Yum.

When I step out of Town Hall, Finn races to me from the green. “Witch, you need to come with me. Something happened at Naomi’s shop.”

“What?” My heart skips. “Is everyone okay?”

He jumps up and puts his front paws on my thigh. “You need to come.” Then he dashes off, racing for the store like he’s got pixies on his tail.

I run after him, my ballet flats slapping against the sidewalk. Fortunately, downtown is small enough that I get to I Touch My Shelf pretty damned quickly.

Finn whines at the door, and I fling it open so we can race inside—

I stop short, in the middle of a dark, empty shop. “What the heckity heck?”

Magic shivers through the room, leaving behind light and motion and color as the entire Witch Bitch Spicy Book Club appears out of thin air. “Surprise!”

“Wha… what?” I shriek, hitting an embarrassingly high note.

“It’s your bachelorette party, bitch!” Autumn yells.

“A witch bitch one!” Skye adds.

I press a hand to my trembling mouth, overcome. Now that the trials are over, our coven meetings have become more relaxed, making me realize how much I missed having regular girls’ nights out before this last month and a half. We even started reading books, beginning with a spicy orc series that takes place in Faerie. The conversations about knotting have been seriously fun.

But for the Witch Bitches to do this… I can’t hug everyone fast enough. Smiling and laughing and crying a little.

“Hey, how did you hide like that?” I ask.

Autumn grins. “We got an illusion charm from Severin.”

“Well, it worked.” I look down at Finn. “And you completely fooled me!”

“It’s not as if it was hard. I am quite intelligent, you know.” He gives me his fox grin. “I did it to give you a nice surprise. It is nice, right?” He suddenly sounds a little uncertain, pressing against my calf.

“The nicest!” I crouch down to hug him and press a kiss to the top of his head. “What would I do without you?”

Finn laughs his fox laugh, a high and fast set of ha-ha-has. “It does boggle the mind how you ever survived before me.” I give him a few crunch berries for a special treat, and he heads back out to the green, muttering something about avoiding “girl time.”

When I turn back around, Naomi says, “We’ve got another surprise for you.” She flings open the door to the backroom to show…

“May!” I leap forward and throw my arms around my friend. She’s been off traveling Faerie with her orc husband, King Aldronn of Alarria.

Her tan face breaks into a huge smile as she looks up at me, a plastic tiara resting on her honey-brown hair. She picks up another and sets it on my head, then waves a hand toward Naomi. “Look at us! Three queens together.”

“Almost queen,” I say, pointing at my face.

“Close enough!”

Skye adds a bridal veil to my plastic tiara, and Autumn hands out penis straws with the cereal-milk cocktails. Somehow, she found ones with knots.

May stays by my side as the others get their drinks. Then she turns to me with narrowed eyes and whisper-hisses, “What’s this about your marriage being fake?”

“What?” I yelp. “You can’t know that! I already told my three people I’m allowed to tell!” God, are there going to be magical repercussions or something?

“You didn’t tell me-tell me.” She taps her temple. “Telepath, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” Whew. I sag in relief. Then I shoot her a hard look. “Hey! No fair. If you read my mind, you already know everything with Severin is completely real!”

“Yeah, but I had to tease you just a little.” She holds her thumb and index finger an inch apart. “I go traveling for one month, and you go and get engaged! And to Severin!”

“Stop giving her a hard time.” Autumn says, stepping close to hand us cocktails.

“Yeah,” Skye says. “Hannah put her happiness on the line for the whole town.”

“Doing so let me find my happiness.” I lift my glass. “That’s what I call a win-win.”

“Ferndale Falls looks amazing! I almost didn’t recognize it! You’ve done an incredible job.” May lifts her glass. “To Hannah.”

Everyone toasts. “To Hannah!”

Pleased embarrassment flames in my cheeks, but I can’t stop smiling as I take a gulp of my cocoa puffs white Russian.

We all drink, giggling to see each other sucking on the penis straws.

Then Kayla hands out pins she made. Mine says: This Witch Is Getting Hitched. The others say: Bride’s Coven.

Instead of regular cupcakes, Skye made ones shaped like little cauldrons, with purple “potion” icing frothing out the tops and “Love Spell” written on the sides.

Jasmine pulls out a bunch of bachelorette never-have-I-ever cards, and we settle in for a drinking game, laughing over things like who’s been caught in the act or who’s had sex in public. I totally drink for that second one. I’m pretty sure the sky above town counts, right?

It’s tipsy and fun, and with May here, I truly have all of my besties around me. Somehow, the five of us squeeze onto the longest couch, with me in the middle. I throw my arms wide and try to hug them all at once. “I love you guys.”

“Aww.” They pile on from both sides, squishing me into a somewhat flat—and very happy—Hannah pancake.

Late the next afternoon, I use my butt to push open the door as I back out of Cake My Day, my arms full of a tray of cookies. They’re not exactly the same as Nan’s oatmeal chocolate chip, but they’re as amazing as everything Pepperpot bakes.

“Town meeting in ten,” I call back to her, and she gives me a wave.

Evening sunlight slants from the west, capturing all of downtown in a golden glow.

It’s amazing what a difference the last month and a half has made. Everything’s changed as I amble toward Town Hall, passing one open shop after the next. People fill the sidewalks, laughing and eating and talking. Even my old nemesis, Main Street’s infamous pothole, is gone, completely patched and smoothed over so you can’t tell where it was. Severin had his people bury the foundation crystal for the protection spell there, and the hole no longer gulps asphalt like a bottomless stomach. “Gotcha at last,” I whisper.

“I’m the queen of flowers!” A little girl runs across the green, shrieking with laughter. A line of tulips follows like ducks imprinted on their mother. Huh! It seems we might already have a new generation of witches.

Then I startle and stop, squinting toward the sidewalk on the other side of the green. There’s a unicorn walking down Main Street. A freaking unicorn! Unlike most of the other shifter fae I’ve met, they tend to remain in their animal form when they come to Earth. I wonder what the protective spell shows the non-magical humans—a horse on the loose?

Blue and her flock of pixies zip past my head, her high voice crying out, “Come on! You can’t be late.”

I grin and follow her into the Town Hall, hurrying across the lobby and into the meeting room.

Severin stands scowling at the old coffee urn, one hand pressed to its side. “This is hardly an adequate temperature.”

“Yep, one of the burners died. I need to buy a new one.” And I can. I have the budget now for this and so many more things the town needs. All because of the man at my side and a Faerie bargain I couldn’t refuse.

I set down the tray of cookies, and Severin snags one, even as I pretend to try to bat his hand away. It doesn’t matter if he takes one—I bought extra, and having the budget to do so is a constant joy.

“Mayor Wylde,” Reginald says from behind me, “I have a bone to pick with you. Who are all these strangers in our town?”

Keeping my back turned, I take a deep breath. The old grouch complained for years that there weren’t enough tourists visiting Ferndale Falls. Now that I’ve brought more people to town, he’s found a new thing to grumble about.

I spin around, smile firmly in place, which grows genuine as I take in the packed room full of a mix of faces I’ve seen for years and the newer additions who’ve already become dear. Pepperpot bustles in, talking to Diamond from Bling It On. Luke holds up one of the walls with his shoulder, his wings tucked close to his back, and Rune stands at the back of the room, feet shoulder-width apart, as if still in guard mode. The pixies fill one of the wooden chairs, sitting right beside Mrs. Greely, who doesn’t bat an eye at them due to the protection spell. Jared sits, holding hands with his wood-nymph boyfriend. Autumn and Skye and the rest of the Witch Bitches take up two whole rows, and my besties wave and grin.

“I don’t see any strangers, Reginald.” I smile sweetly at him as Severin’s arm wraps around my waist, one of his shadows coiling around my calf. “I see townspeople.”

I see Ferndale Falls’s future, written in hope and smiles.

“I see loved ones and friends.”

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Hannah

“It’s so beautiful!” Skye peeps out the Town Hall’s front door, then turns to me, her eyes dreamy with romance.

“I want to see.” I crane my neck.

“Nope.” Autumn pulls the door shut. “No sneak peeks for you. Severin gave strict orders. And can I just say your future hubs can be very… intense.”

“Insistent is the word you’re looking for,” Skye says.

Autumn snorts in amusement. “Well, he insisted that Hannah doesn’t see the town green early.”

“Besides, you don’t want to spoil the surprise,” Skye adds.

“You’re right.” I step back into the meeting room, which has been turned into bridal-prep central, the refreshment table holding every type of makeup and hair-styling device known to humanity, all courtesy of Mom. She’s even brought a standing three-way mirror.

She looks up from arranging four different types of curling wands to smile at me. Her soft-fuchsia dress perfectly compliments her light skin, and she’s shaped her long brown hair into an enviable up-do, her look a perfect blend of mother-of-the-bride and politician’s wife.

“Darling!” She throws her arms wide. “Are you ready?”

I take a seat and let her fuss over me. I could have had Valena from Haute and Bothered give me another magical makeover, but Mom hasn’t gotten to do any of the regular mother-of-the-bride things, so letting her get me ready is the least I can do.

We all chatter as Skye and Autumn put on makeup and do their hair, while Mom’s doing the same thing for me. Mom keeps the conversation fairly normal with them in the room, but the moment they leave to put on their bridesmaids’ dresses, her eyes meet mine in the mirror.

“So this young man of yours… you’ve made sure you’re sexually compatible, right?”

“Mom!”

“It’s important that he knows how to give you orgasms. Why your father—”

“Nope! Gonna stop you right there.” I throw up a hand, palm out. Then I soften my tone. “It’s okay, Mom. Really. Severin’s… ahhh… accomplished in that area.” My cheeks burn with mortification.

“Oh, I have just the blush to match that color!” Mom spins toward the table, hands hovering over the various options. When she turns back, holding the chosen blush and a fluffy brush, she says, “Well, that’s good. Women deserve orgasms, too.”

I picture last night, when Severin’s shadows coiled around my legs, spreading them wide, while more shadows held my wrists bound over my head. He buried his fingers inside me, stroking that special spot that makes me scream, while his tongue danced over my clit. Then he ordered, “Come for me, my good girl.”

I came so freaking hard I almost passed out.

“It’s not a problem,” I blurt, trying not to squirm. Totally, utterly not a problem.

Autumn steps into the room, wearing a gorgeous pale-peach dress made of Faerie silk that looks stunning on her. She’s gathered her long red hair into a side ponytail that falls in soft waves over the front of one shoulder.

Skye follows her, her dress a blush-pink that clings to her enviable curves perfectly. Her platinum blonde hair is in one of her fancier 1950s-styles, her lips painted a softer pink than her usual to better match the dress.

“You both look amazing!”

“Those dresses are breathtaking,” Mom says. “I don’t think I know the designer.”

“She owns our local boutique,” I say, pride filling me. “You should stop by Haute and Bothered before you leave town.”

“I will.” Mom pins one last piece of my hair into place and says, “Let’s get you into your wedding dress.”

All three of them help me, Mom oohing and ahhing every time she touches the amazingly soft Faerie silk. “This dress is stunning. It’s as good as anything I’ve seen at Fashion Week. It’s a lot for a small-town mayor’s budget. Are you sure you don’t want me and your father to—”

“No, it’s okay,” I say. “Severin got it for me.” I haven’t been able to tell her he’s a king. She’d want to know what country, and there’s no way I can explain about Faerie and Avalon.

Once they finish getting me into my dress, I pull on the matching white Faerie slippers. No stilettos for me—narrow heels plus walking on grass equals a fall waiting to happen—and I can’t imagine getting married anywhere else but the town green. As Severin reminded me, it’s where we met and first agreed to our marriage.

I stand, and Mom hands me my bouquet, made of local ferns and beautiful white peonies with one pink one tucked into the center that looks exactly like the one Severin gave me that first day. My heart skips, knowing he told the wood nymphs from Oopsy Daisy to add it. He’s so good at romantic gestures that it makes me melt.

Autumn and Skye unfold the sides of the standing three-way mirror for me.

“Oh!” My face is perfect, the makeup emphasizing my features while still appearing completely natural. Mom piled my hair up in a fanciful and romantic up-do, decorated with lots of little seed-pearls and trailing coiled curls to soften the look.

The dress is a dream, with a sleeveless sweetheart neckline that drops to a cinched waist before flaring out into a floor-length skirt made of multiple layers of Faerie silk that float weightless around my legs.

“You look like a princess,” Mom says.

No, I look like a queen.

After one last hug, Mom goes to take her seat beside Dad, leaving me with my besties in the Town Hall lobby.

I wrap an arm around each of their shoulders, careful not to mess up our dresses or bouquets.

“I’m so happy for you,” Skye whispers.

“Yeah,” Autumn says. “If anyone deserves a fairytale wedding, it’s you.”

My heart pinches, and I hug them tighter. “Thank you both. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

We break apart, and Autumn asks, “Ready?”

“So ready.”

Skye sticks her arm out a crack in the door and waves.

Beautiful harp music starts to play outside, and my butterflies take flight as excitement zips through me. This is it!

Skye throws open the door, letting in a cool breeze of evening air. The town green has been transformed into a magical fairyland. Glowing lanterns bob through the air, held up by magic, and the trees are decorated with more tiny lights. The flowers glow in a rainbow of colors as if lit from within, perfuming the air with their sweet floral scent. Harp music swells, the notes rising and falling in an achingly beautiful melody.

Jared stands poised to one side, a video camera raised to capture everything. I can’t wait to see how it comes out. Severin says the protection spell will let me see all the magic while making the wedding look completely normal for regular humans.

Guests sit on either side of the central aisle. Mom and Dad wait near the front, my father’s face wearing a proud smile. Naomi and May sit with their orc husbands, which is amazing in and of itself, since orc royalty has something of a history with the shadow fae. Maybe this wedding can be the first step toward healing some of that.

The rest of the Witch Bitch Spicy Book Club gals are spread throughout the crowd, along with other people from town. Several of the fae attend, and I spot Rune, Luke, Shadow, Pepperpot, Diamond, Thorvinn, and Valena. A spurt of disappointment goes through me that I can’t find any of the pixies. Maybe they’re too busy making the wedding dinner? I spot Ruby and Elowen and am happy to see them sitting together and holding hands. It’s nice to think that something good came from the bride trials.

Something besides me and Severin, that is.

I finally let my eyes follow the aisle to its end, to find him waiting for me, Varyn and Daigan by his side. They all wear formal clothes, and Severin looks devastatingly handsome in his human tuxedo. The silver-embroidered waistcoat is the same emerald green as his eyes and adds one tiny touch of color to all the black, even though black suits him perfectly. He doesn’t wear his crown, saying he wants to marry me as the man, not the king, and I love that so, so much. His heart is what’s important to me, not his throne.

Even across this distance, his eyes latch onto me with such intensity I can feel it like a touch. Then an actual touch slides up my calf with the familiar feel of one of his shadows.

Oh, this man! I love him so much.

Skye goes first, crossing the sidewalk and pavement to step onto the town green. Once she’s a few feet along, Autumn goes next.

I pause for a moment, then follow, trying to walk at a stately pace, but my butterflies take flight, trying to hurry me forward.

The moment my foot touches the green, several things happen at once. The walking tulips race in from the sides and precede me down the aisle like literal flower girls. Pixies swoop out of the nearby trees, flying right behind the tulips and tossing showers of white flower petals as they go.

And Finn, my dearest Finn, trots out from under a rhododendron, a jaunty green bow tied around his neck, two rings strung on loops of the ribbon.

I blink rapidly as he shoots me a proud look and walks down the aisle in front of me, his floofy tail held high, the best ring bearer any girl could have.

Somehow, I make it down the aisle. I mean, I probably walk, but I’m so full of giddy happiness it feels like floating.

When the tulips and pixies reach the end of the aisle, they split into two groups and continue around until they form a semi-circle behind the wedding party. Finn stops in front of Varyn, who retrieves the rings and ribbon. Then my familiar goes over to sit beside Skye and Autumn, his fluffy tail curled around his front feet.

Mom stands and takes my bouquet right before I reach Severin. It’s an idea I thought of to give her a part in the wedding and hopefully softens the sting that I didn’t have Dad give me away.

I want to give myself to Severin.

Then I’m there, standing in front of him, his green eyes burning into mine.

“Your beauty undoes me, my bride,” he growls, lifting my hand to press a kiss to my knuckle right below my ring.

The local justice of the peace looks a little bemused as she starts the ceremony. While orcs and wood nymphs probably look human without much bother, I wonder what she and the other non-magical humans see in place of the walking tulips and pixies.

Severin and I stand facing each other, hands clasped, as she leads us through our vows. We decided to keep them fairly standard for the human part of the service, since so much else about the wedding is fantastical.

“I, Severin, do take you, Hannah, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forth.”

His deep voice gives the words a solemn promise that goes straight to my heart. I tear up, especially when he turns to take a ring from Varyn. Then Severin slides it up my finger, a beautiful gold band, made to resemble the twining stems of a flower, perfectly matching my engagement ring. I love it.

“I, Hannah, do take you, Severin, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forth.”

My voice sounds breathy to my ears, but Severin’s eyes never leave mine, full of love. I reach out a hand blindly, and Varyn lays a ring on my palm, a large, platinum band shaped with the same twining plant-stem design as mine. I slide it onto Severin’s finger.

The justice of the peace steps back, giving us space for the fae part of the ceremony.

Severin takes my left hand in his, retrieves the ribbon from Varyn, and drapes it over our clasped hands.

“Hannah, until I met you, I had no idea what love meant. In giving me your heart, you’ve given me mine. I love you and vow to spend the rest of my days making you happy.” He winds one end of the ribbon around our hands even as one of his shadows coils around my calf like a hug.

Tears prickle my eyes at the beauty of his words. God, I love this man!

“Severin, I never imagined I’d find someone so thoughtful and kind. You let me dream my dreams, then you help me make them come true. I love you and want to spend every day making you happy.” I wrap the other end of the ribbon around our bound hands.

Magic swirls around us, and his eyes meet mine, so full of love my heart skips.

“You may kiss!” the justice of the peace calls out.

Severin dips me backward. I cling to him, toes curling as his voice goes growly and possessive. “My wife. Mine.” His mouth takes mine in a searing kiss that makes me totally forget we have an audience.

When he finally pulls me upright, people laugh and cheer. He unbinds the ribbon and slips it into his pocket so that a beaming and crying Mom can push my bouquet into my hands. Severin escorts me back down the aisle, everyone throwing birdseed over us, and I grin to think of the doves having a feast in the morning.

Rune, Luke, and Shadow leap into action, ushering everyone to the end of the green. In the center of the space, circular tables appear by magic, the chairs from the ceremony now arranged around each. Then a long rectangular table appears at the other end of the green, topped with the five-tier wedding cake.

Severin leads me to our table, where we’re joined by my parents and the bridal party. Since we had our wedding rather late in the day, the better to enjoy the floating Faerie lights and pixies, we eat dinner right away. The pixies fly several types of pizza to each table. Severin must have given them a strong talking to about what’s appropriate for a wedding, because they don’t scream “Pizza!” for the deliveries.

Mom makes a point of saying how “modern” it is to serve pizza at a wedding, but Dad says it’s refreshing to have food people actually want to eat instead of the over-cooked chicken he’s given at so many public events.

“Pizza has a special meaning for us,” Severin says, picking up my hand. “Hannah and I ate pizza for our very first date.”

That melts Mom’s heart, and she doesn’t say another word about any of our non-traditional choices.

Next comes the cake. It’s so beautiful, iced white and decorated with intricate sugar flowers tinted in the palest blushes of pastels. It’s also a feat of engineering, with each tier on its own platform raised above the ones below using little columns.

“It seems a shame to cut it,” I whisper as Severin picks up the knife.

“It would be more of a shame not to eat it,” he murmurs, looking vaguely horrified at the thought of no cake.

He wraps my fingers around the hilt and curls his over mine as we cut and plate the first slice. Turning to face the crowd, he feeds me a small bite. The airy cake melts over my tongue in a burst of vanilla, followed by the sweet tang of raspberries as I get a bit of the filling.

“Oh, that’s good!”

He smirks. “Told you.”

I shove cake into that smirk, and he opens wide, his lips wrapping around my fingers and making me shiver.

He insists on hand feeding me a bite from every layer, each flavor more delicious than the last. I return the favor. By the time we finish, the crowd has grown restless, and my butterflies careen around on a sugar bender, excited by all the finger licking.

We step away from the cake, and Pepperpot springs forward, sending magic rippling through the air. In a flash, multiple pieces of cake from each layer are plated and spread across the table for people to choose from.

Mom walks up, looking a little dazed. “Your help is amazingly efficient. I’ve never seen anyone move so quickly.”

“Yep.” I grin, wondering what the protective spell showed her.

Pepperpot hands Severin a special cupcake with a little orange fox face on top, and we go over to feed the treat to Finn.

“For me?” His ears perk up. “I thought I couldn’t have cake.”

“This is fox cake.” Severin peels off the paper and sets the cupcake on the ground. “It’s made from nut flours.”

“It’s just for you, bud.” I lean over to scratch his ears. “A treat for the best ring and ribbon bearer ever.”

“Of course I am.” Then his nose is buried in his cupcake as he makes little snuffling noises.

The harpist finishes and takes a bow, and with his photographer duties mostly done, Jared takes over as DJ, starting us off with the father-daughter dance.

Dad walks me over to the grassy area set aside as the dance floor, and we do a basic waltz. “I’m proud of you, Hannah. You’ve really turned this place around.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I smile up at him. “Coming from you, that means a lot.” Out of everyone here, Dad probably has a better idea than anyone of the huge amount of change it took to get Ferndale Falls to where it is today.

“You know, we could use a young mover and shaker like you in the capital.”

His words thrill me. I’ve always looked up to him and longed for his approval. At the same time, I never really wanted his life: the one so busy he barely has time for family. Yet that’s almost what I became, these past couple of years: the person with no life but my job. Until Finn and his easy affection. Until the Witch Bitches and their support and friendship. Until all of Severin’s love and the quiet joy of relaxed mornings lazing in bed with him and cinnamon rolls.

I glance over the green, taking in all these people and the town, seeing everything I love the most in this world or any other. Then I look back at him. “Nope, sorry. Ferndale Falls is home. I can’t imagine living anywhere but here.”

He gives me a wry smile and whirls me into one last spin before letting me go.

As soon as we finish, Naomi and May come over, hugging me in congratulations. Skye and Autumn join us, and we lose ourselves to the beat of some of our favorite songs from high school.

Several of the fae stand beside the dance floor, watching us. When I try to wave them over, Shadow leaps right into the middle of the group, shaking his groove thing and tossing his silver-tipped hair this way and that.

Rune and Luke both scowl and shake their heads, but they don’t leave. They just keep standing there like matching, grumpy mountains, staring at the dancers.

“What’s up with them?” I yell to Skye and Naomi, hooking a thumb toward the two men.

“No idea!” Skye shrugs, her eyes flicking toward the moody dragon.

Autumn adds, “Dance or go home, I say.” But even though she’s trying to sound blasé, she turns her back on them and does an extra butt shimmy.

The werewolf scowls even harder.

This is going to be very interesting to watch over the next little bit. I might need popcorn.

After dancing to one more song, I bow out with a laugh and head back over to our table just in time to hear Mom say to Severin, “I’m certain that’s how Hannah was conceived.”

Oh, god. My worst nightmare has come to life. Mom’s telling him the washing machine story! Why don’t I have gnome magic? It sure as hell would be amazing if I could get the ground to open and swallow me whole right about now.

Instead, I clamp a hand onto his shoulder. “It’s time for us to have our first couple’s dance.” Then I wave to Jared, and he starts playing “Made for Me” by Muni Long.

Severin takes me into his arms and whirls me around a suddenly empty dance floor so smoothly I feel like I’m floating.

“I’m sorry about Mom. Was it horrible? I promise she’s not going to be one of those evil mother-in-laws. She uses up all her filter doing the political stuff with Dad, so when she talks to me, everything she’s thinking comes out.”

“It was very informative.”

Ah, shit.

“I think I need to buy several of these human washing machines for our bedroom at the palace.” He smirks. “Your mother makes them sound very appealing.”

“Nah.” I curl my hands around his neck. “The next time we visit the cottage, we can try mine. I’ve got one of the new ones with a very vigorous spin cycle.”

“It’s a date.”

Severin whirls me into a spin, and we move together beautifully. I should have known he’d be an amazing dancer.

The song ends, and another faster one begins. People surge onto the dance floor all around us, but Severin keeps swaying slowly and hypnotically with me. He edges us gradually off to the side and behind the cover of one of the larger rhododendrons. Magic ripples through the air, and he launches us up into the moonlit sky.

“They’ll see!” I gasp.

“I’ve cloaked us in illusion.”

I settle in his arms, feeling his shadows coil around me to hold me more securely. He takes us up a couple of hundred feet, just enough to let Ferndale Falls spread out below us, all twinkling lights and pretty-painted buildings.

“I love you, my wife.” His fingers cup my face as he stares into my eyes. “My precious Hannah. My enchanting little witch. You’re more beautiful than the stars in the sky, warmer than any sun. Before you, I never knew joy or contentment or love. You’ve brought a richness to my life I thought I would always lack. I may not be worthy, but I am yours, and I will be yours forever, showing you every day exactly how precious you are.”

“Severin,” I breathe his name like a prayer. “I love you.”

Floating above our perfect little home, he kisses me until my heart and magic soar to meet his, full of love and hope and life.

Thank you for reading Faking with the Fae King. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Want more Hannah and Severin? Read on for a special bonus story!

Ready for more cozy spicy grumpy-sunshine romance? Want to know what happens when Rune finally talks to Autumn? Dive into Wishing for a Werewolf, book two of Ferndale Falls Forever!

Magic swaps my wishes with those of a grumpy werewolf! If we want our dreams to come true, we’re stuck working together.

WISHING FOR A WEREWOLF

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Want more spicy grumpy sunshine stories set in this same world? Eager to find out what happened when human witches like Naomi met their orc husbands in Faerie? Dive into a completed series packed with spicy romance, humor, adventure, found family, magic, talking animal friends, and a cozy orc village: Brides of the Moon Blade Clan!

Or read on for a sneak peek from book one, Bound to the Orc Warlord:

“Shit. Shit. Shit!”

I careen into a treetop, the pine needles scraping across bare skin. The thin trunk hits me in the chest, and I wrap my arms and legs around it instinctively, holding on for dear life as it whips back and forth under the force of my impact.

Finally, it comes to a stop, and I let out a relieved sigh. I’m no longer stuck in the middle of the air.

Nope. Now I’m stuck like a cat up a tree.

The clearing’s really far below. I’m still weightless, but if I hold on to the branches, can I climb down to the ground? And then what—cling to this tree trunk for the rest of my life?

I push myself down, my front sliding along the trunk. Thank god I wore my cute low-top sneakers instead of sandals to sneak around the boss’ office. They didn’t do me any good there, but they’re sure helping now. My favorite green dress is a bit more of a problem. I love the flowy skirt that flares out when I spin, but it’s flowing a little too much right now, sliding up to my waist and flashing my butt. At least there’s no one around to see.

Before I get very far, a small black bird lands on a tuft of needles beside me, its head tilting until it pins me with one startling red eye. It opens an equally red beak and stares at me for several seconds.

I’m an animal lover, but a shiver of unease trickles down my spine.

“Stop being silly, Ashley,” I whisper and wave at the bird to scare it away.

A sharp beak peck like a needle of pain makes me yank my arm back. A drop of blood wells from the top of my hand. A matching glisten of liquid gleams on its beak. Then a thick black tongue licks at the blood.

It’s creepy as fuck.

“Nope. No. Just all the no.” I shake a fist at it, moving as fast as I can so it can’t land another hit. “Shoo! Get out of here.”

Instead of flying off, it lets out a loud croak. A chorus of answering calls comes from the sky, and a black cloud of flapping wings block out the sunlight. These birds radiate malice.

I wrap my legs more tightly around the trunk so I can let go with my arms. My torso floats out from the tree as I flap both hands wildly around my head, terrified these vicious things will attack my face. They dive in, and jabs of pain lance my arms wherever their beaks strike.

An angry shriek rings out, and an emerald-green shape arrows through the flock, scattering it in every direction. Three-foot long wings snap open with a whomp, pulling the creature to an abrupt and graceful halt. A mini-dragon hangs in the air beside me, wings spread a good five-foot wide. A crest of long, feather-like scales stands straight up on its forehead as it lets out a hiss and darts its snapping mouth toward the first bird.

The black bird leaps away with an angry squawk, wings beating wildly as it falls for a few seconds before regaining height. It circles up into the sky, croaking all the while, almost as if it hurls insults at me.

Or at the dragon, who calls after the bird, its voice a fluting series of notes that sound more pointed than song. Is it talking? Can it do that?

A bemused giggle bubbles up. Why the hell not? It’s a dragon!

Things only get wilder from there, because a black unicorn gallops into the clearing, a huge monster of a man on its back. He leans forward to swing a leg over and drop to the ground. Brown leather pants cling to muscular thighs, and his blue-green shirt matches the color of the forest’s pines.

The unicorn neighs, and the man tips his head back to yell up at me, his deep voice booming with words I can’t understand.

The movement shows his face, and I suck in a shocked breath. Rich green skin stretches over high cheekbones, and ivory tusks bracket a strong mouth. A trimmed beard covers his square jaw, as black as the long braid dangling down his back. His green ears come to sharp points at the top.

He’s huge and strange and gorgeous, and his intense gaze eats me up with a force I can feel.

Oh, god. Flames burst across my cheeks. My skirt’s hiked up around my waist, my butt and thighs hanging out there for the entire freaking world to see.

Thank god I wore my prettiest pink panties, because he’s sure getting an eyeful.

Ready to see what happens when the grumpy orc climbs up to save her? Grab your copy now so you don’t miss a thing!

BOUND TO THE ORC WARLORD

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

A book is a glorious thing to labor over, and it’s so much easier when done in good company. Thank you to all the lovely authors who’ve offered advice, support, and encouragement.

A special shout out to my beta readers: Sara Ivy Hill and Catrina Bell.

Major thanks go to my ARC team. You’re the best! Thank you for all your love and support for these characters and worlds!

A huge thank you to all my amazing readers and reviewers! None of this would be possible without you! Each review, each Instagram and Facebook post, each Tiktok video, each comment, each email—every single one of them means the world to me!

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Krista Luna writes spicy fantasy and paranormal romance featuring otherworldly men and the strong women they can’t live without. She loves combining sizzling romance with thrilling adventure, laugh-out-loud humor, and cozy found families full of best friends and talking animals.

When she’s not writing, you can find Krista reading or watching her latest fantasy or scifi favorite, all while eating chocolate. Because there’s always chocolate.

If you’d like to get bonus stories and hear about new releases and art, sign up for Krista’s newsletter. Join her on Patreon to get access to spicy art, extra bonus stories, and more. She has a Discord reader group and is on Instagram and Tiktok. You can also follow her at Amazon, Bookbub, and Goodreads. Find all links at KristaLunaAuthor.com.