The Unicorn’s Mare

A Monsterly Yours Romance

S.J. Sanders

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Epilogue

Epilogue II

Author’s Note

Other Works by S.J. Sanders

About the Author

©2021 by Samantha Sanders

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without explicit permission granted in writing from the author.

This book is a work of fiction intended for adult audiences only.

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Chapter 1

“Unicorns are born all male, my heart. They look for females among other races. These they often entrap within their groves and seduce. Only after they mate, when the female turns into a unicorn mare and is bonded to him for life, does he venture from his hidden grove with her.”

-Orgath (The Orc Wife)

Eliph

I frown at the cup in my hand. I shouldn’t be in the human world. My kind doesn’t do well away from the magic pools deep within the hidden groves of Lehamenin. We can only manage short visits to Fahal, and those have always been prone to danger. While it seems unlikely that I will find myself hunted here as I would have in the past, there is still the risk of being absent too long and returning to find myself cut off from the magic of our wells.

So why am I risking it?

My reflection in the cup stares back at me silently, offering no commentary. Not that I need it. I know why I am here. It’s the same painful truth that has haunted me for centuries since the novelty of being an adult, with all of Lehamenin to explore and indulge in, wore off. The same truth that made me, in a moment of weakness, sneak into an orc’s keep years ago to make my offer to a human woman kept there, even though she didn’t call to my magic the way my true mate would.

I’m lonely.

In all of Lehamenin, I haven’t found one born yet who calls to my magic, and so I’ve been making excursions throughout the human Fahal in search of her.

It would have been madness just a few years ago, before the elvish portals reopened. Not that we can’t open our own wild portals that will send us to random places in this world. We have just chosen not to, for our safety. No doubt some of my kin would still think me mad, although with all manner of species visiting and living in Fahal, a unicorn is less conspicuous.

Most, even among the fae, do not know what they’re looking at when I am in this form. Even if they did, it wouldn’t matter. With all manner of species here, it isn’t like a human can walk up and murder me for my horn. There are laws, thank the gods. Here, I blend in among all the other beings, and I am not forced to use precious stores of magic and weaken my connection to the wells just to hide my ears, horn, and tail unless I really need to. It’s both safer and more convenient.

I sigh and set my cup down.

Not that it has helped me my find my mare. Not just any female, but my perfect mate.

I let my eyes roam the little café. There are several unmated females nearby, if I were less selective. They smell clean and sweet, rather than possessing the layered musk that accompanies long-term intimacy with a male. The scent of a mated human is subtler than other species, but still discernible.

I know that some among my brethren would see this as an ideal hunting ground, and they would whisk their chosen mates away as soon as the opportunity arises, even if she’s already mated or doesn’t call to their magic. An opening where a male might be alone with his chosen female is often all it takes to lure her in to touch him. After that, it’s just a matter of encouraging her to mount and carrying her away. In that way, we have a lot in common with our waterhorse cousins, although we fancy ourselves as a more ethical race.

Just the thought of it, however, leaves me feeling cold.

I want the sort of bond that comes with the ahandral, the magic-born mate, as my mother was for my father for centuries. I held out, waiting for that special magic, but after two centuries alone, and my magic showing the first signs of waning, I nearly gave up hope. It was only a matter of time until I seized an alhema mate before my magic disappeared entirely and I returned to the well with it.

That’s something I am no longer in danger of doing, since my hope has been restored. These females sitting casually around me, sipping their drinks as they talk or work, are in no danger of being stolen away by me. None of them have any idea just how vulnerable they potentially are. Even if they knew I’m a unicorn, they would still be ignorant of the potential danger thanks to the misconceptions they harbor about my kind. Other fae races have not forgotten the way the humans have. They keep their females guarded and well away from my kind.

It amuses me that humans only recall that maidens were used to draw unicorns. They claim it’s because unicorns are drawn to their purity, funny enough. Yes, we love the sweet scent of a female unattached, but we really aren’t so discriminating. In truth, a female left alone for us to steal is too tempting for many unicorns, and that was what unicorn hunters in the past had capitalized on. In many ways, humanity’s ignorance makes the Fahal the perfect hunting ground.

It is very… encouraging.

The return of hope—and mingling among humans—is not without its frustrations, however. The human population is far larger than it had been since the last time our kind has walked among them. There are millions of different places where I might find my ahandral, and I am limited to mere days at a time during which I can search. It’s not made any easier by the fact that I feel vulnerable in this form when away from my well. My fetch-form—the form by which humans know my kind and the form by which we travel when away from our homes—is my preferred mode of travel. Unfortunately, it is one that is inconvenient for hunting a mate when so much human activity now takes place indoors.

And then there’s the pesky problem of females being drawn to us, which can hamper our search.

Like my current waitress.

I spot her heading directly for me and hold back a sigh. Brown hair bound in a messy knot on top of her head, blue eyes, and red lips stretched in a wide smile, she’s not unpleasant to look upon, but she is not my ahandral. This wouldn’t be a problem except that she has been to my table every five minutes exactly, far more frequently than she has entertained any others, and hinders my view of the café entrance.

She arrives at my tableside quickly, mostly because she walked right by several customers without seeing their attempts to wave her down, and I swallow a groan as she neatly blocks my view of the door.

“Do you need more coffee?” she asks, her voice soft and enticing.

I shake my head.

“No. I believe I’m done,” I murmur, and grimace at the effect my voice has on her.

She is practically ensnared already, her energy vibrating with the natural chords of a unicorn’s voice. It is something of a blessing and a curse that our voices have such effect on females. Perhaps inconvenience would be a better word. Either way, I’m not happy at the way she leans in closer as I speak. It would be all too easy to convince her to come outside alone with me if I were of the mind.

It is better for all concerned if I leave now. Besides, there’s only so long that I can sit in the café. Not only because the practice seems to be frowned on by humans, but I don’t want to waste too much of my day in one spot.

She gets a giddy sort of look as she produces my bill and sets it in front of me along with a scrap of paper with several numbers scrawled over it. I look at it blankly, trying to put together what it means.

“I get off in about an hour,” she whispers, but I fail to understand what that has to do with my bill or the numbers she’s thrust in front of me.

I decide to ignore the matter and abandon the scrap of paper at the edge of the table. She stares at it expectantly for a moment and then frowns when I fail to act on whatever code she was providing. Foregoing a sigh, I slide out of the chair and reach into my pocket, pulling out the exact change plus a few extra dollars for a tip.

Like the clothes that I fabricated from my magic, the money is also made of magic. I’ve been told that this is fraud, that it’s not real money. I do not see how. It will not disappear after I leave like the magic of some species—and thus the reason one should never make an exchange with a hobgoblin, who are notorious for such tricks. Something about numbers on the money that are placed on it when printing. I make sure to add numbers to my money, despite not knowing exactly how many numbers there should be, but it must not matter too much since no one has refused it. The coins are far easier to manage, thankfully. What a shame that humans don’t use more of them.

I set the money on the table, give her a polite nod as I brush a lock of long white hair back from my face, and head to the entrance.

It seems that the café, which had seemed to call to me just an hour earlier, wouldn’t be the place after all. How disappointing.

Frowning at my miserable luck, I’m about to reach for the door when a woman appears on the other side, nothing more than a dark silhouette through the glass, and shoves it open. The door snaps toward me viciously, but I step back just in time to avoid breaking it with my horn. My horn would be perfectly safe, but the ringing in my ears would go on for hours. As it is, it still manages to graze the side of my head in its attempt to take off an ear in passing.

A vision gapes at me, red lips parting in surprise. Liquid dark eyes, large, cat-like, and intoxicating, widen in horror on her cherubic face. Her rounded cheeks and a dainty, pointed chin immediately captivate me, as does the subtle blush rising into her face and down her neck, darkening the warm, brown hue of her complexion. My eyes follow the trail of her blush to the base of her neck where her thick, tight curls fall in a full, beautiful cascade like a fountain to rest on her elegantly sloped shoulders. My breath catches as I allow my eyes to wander over her, and I wonder where else that blush may extend to on her lush figure. I would love to find out.

Desire rises with a sudden blast through me, sending a burning hot spark of magic into my horn. For a moment, I’m overwhelmed by the feeling. Even my lungs ache as I draw in her scent. There is something floral perfuming her, but underneath that is the rich, warm scent of female flesh that invites me to explore it and peel away the deep purple matching pants and jacket. I can see a hint of a white lacey covering that peeks out from the V of her jacket that’s so delicate and feminine I am instantly smitten. A powerful feeling, since I’m practically shivering with desire already.

The burn of my magic is alarming since it’s eating up my reserves, shortening my lifespan if not replenished, but I can’t help but to luxuriate in the feeling. I’m pretty sure that my horn is glowing right now too. It certainly feels more molten where it protrudes from my brow.

There is only one reason that my magic would sear so hot and bright within me, and it fills me with elation.

Am I smiling? I feel like I’m smiling foolishly as I stare at her, but I can’t help it.

I have found my ahandral mare!

A shiver runs through me, and I hiss with the rapid release of pleasure-pain that follows. The burn of the magic being called is something that is discussed reverently, but I had no idea. No idea that it would be this incredible.

I shift, and my cock strains uncomfortably within my pants as the heat of my body recognizing her makes it harden like a rock. A need for relief thrums through me, but I am mercifully distracted by the movement of a graceful hand as she brushes back a mass of tight, dark curls and winces in sympathy, her full lips pressing together tightly until the perfect bow of her upper lip flattens with worry.

“I am so sorry,” she says with a quick peek at my horn and cheek. “I swear I didn’t even see you there. Are you okay?”

My mate’s concern is so sweet that I can’t help but to be utterly smitten with her. Seems I’m a very lucky male indeed.

Chapter 2

Steph

For fuck’s sake, I can’t believe I almost took off the head of a one-horned albino demon thing with the door. I’m not usually so careless. It can only be blamed on my frantic schedule that I’m trying desperately to stay on top of and my incredible need for a caffeine fix so I can survive it. I may have been a bit hasty, not to mention a little distracted by a text message, but I hadn’t intended to bash anyone’s head in.

My eyes trail up to his horn that he’s gripping firmly with one hand, and my palms begin to itch with worry. Shit, did I nail him after all?

Noticing the direction of my gaze, he immediately drops his hand to his side and gives me a heated smile. Apparently, I didn’t make contact, or if I did, I didn’t hurt him too much because I’ve never met a man in pain who’s still able to practically fuck me with his eyes. And that is exactly what demon boy here is doing. His eyes trail over my figure in a way that’s both territorial and hot with desire. I feel the urge to preen in response, but I stubbornly ignore it. I know that I’m looking good today, but I do it for me and not for validation from anyone else.

No fucking preening, I remind myself sternly.

I tighten my expression and raise an eyebrow instead, telling him in no uncertain terms that the flirty shit won’t work on me. He can take his game and keep on moving if he thinks that this moment gives him any kind of opening with me. It wouldn’t be the first time some guy thought he could use an accident to creep on me. I always shut them down.

This is a first for me, however, coming from a fae male. Most of the ones I’ve encountered since the portals opened haven’t even looked twice at me, and that’s the way I prefer it.

Ever since the portals opened, having all manner of creatures in our world has taken some getting used to, not only in terms of appearance but also behavior. Human men are enough of a headache, but a fae male is bound to be all kinds of trouble. I am pretty sure this guy is going to be a handful, because a tingle of apprehension on my neck is telling me that this guy isn’t going to be so easily scared away.

“Are you okay?” I ask again, since he seems to have forgotten that I said anything in the first place and I’m really in a hurry.

His smile widens, displaying the curious double fangs that so many of the fae possess. I’m distracted enough by it that I flinch when his head drops in a tiny theatric bow, all too aware of the intensity of his burning gaze that never seems to leave me the entire time.

“I’m fine, ahandral,” he assures me. “Don’t concern yourself. I am certain that even if you had succeeded in striking me with the door, it would be a fair trade for meeting you.”

My other eyebrow rises to match my first one. Is this guy for real? Ironically, even though it scores way off the board on my bullshit meter, I do enjoy the cadence of his voice. It’s odd too, since I normally want men to shut up and leave me in peace when they’re flirting with me. But there’s something about the way the demon in front of me talks that sends heat curling through me and makes my skin prickle with unwelcome interest.

It may be because his husky voice is soft and has a musical beauty to it, like wind chimes gently singing beneath every syllable. It’s the single most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard, and while it draws me in, I also feel an overwhelming urge to run in the opposite direction. I’m pretty sure that this is the sensible part of my brain throwing a warning flag, and I immediately back away.

I already paid my dues—and paid hard—falling for a charming, charismatic man with an irresistible smile. My heart fell for the smooth words and empty promises of a conman, and I have nothing to show for it except for a broken heart, a ruined business, and an empty bank account. I’m not going to fall victim to the same old shit. I’m only now starting to get back on track with my five-year plan. I’m not messing that up for anyone. Certainly not a one-horned demon who’s looking at me like I might be his favorite treat to nibble.

Gods help me.

“Glad to hear it,” I reply politely and try to slide past him.

Unsuccessfully, I might add.

Although built lithe in the way I imagine a male dancer would be, all sleek, whipcord strength, he’s bigger than most human men and dominates the aisle. There’s no way I’m going to slide between him and the booth. I can feel the scowl forming on my face as I contemplate the problem. Usually, that’s enough to fix the problem and convince any idiot man wasting my time to get out of my way, but the demon just smiles down at me as if my glare is the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes at his obtuseness, crossing my arms over my chest. I gesture at the narrow space he’s left with one hand.

“Do you think you can move over a little there and make room for mere mortals?” I prompt, biting back my impatience.

“For you, anything,” he replies with another bow as he shifts as close as he can get to the tables behind him.

I give him a suspicious look—because that was almost too easy—and start to hurry past while the going is good. I don’t get far, however, before I hear his voice directly behind me.

“May I have the pleasure of knowing your name, female?”

I glance back at him, my brow furrowing.

“Why?”

The look that crosses his face is pure surprise. It would almost be comical except that he suddenly grabs my hand in his. I stiffen at the contact, and my free hand immediately dips inside my purse, fingers curling around the pepper spray hidden there. I tense as I wait for him to let go.

I jerk as his thumb skates softly against the back of my hand. He’s staring at the contact point of our flesh so hard that even I look down. My dark complexion against his marble-like one is a sharp contrast, one he seems fascinated with as he continues to gently apply soft pressure as he clasps my hand in his. What’s more intriguing is that what looks like colorless skin is actually like velvet now that I’m getting a better look. The tiny hairs covering him catch the sunlight pouring through the window as he steps in closer, taking on a pearly sheen that makes the opalescence of his horn seem all the brighter.

Fuck, he’s pretty.

“Why?” he repeats, seemingly captivated.

Startling purple eyes the color of spring hyacinths lift and stare at me. How did I not realize until now that he has the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen on a man? Long white lashes frame them, each like slivers of mother of pearl in the sunlight. A tremor of interest runs through me, and the corners of his full lips quirk up, bringing my attention to that perfect bow shape of his upper lip. He is not just pretty, but beautiful, and hot as hell—and therefore very, very off-limits.

That settles it once and for all. No way am I going to tangle with a fuckboy who hits all the points on my “hell no” list.

“Because I would like to know the name of the female who has captured my heart,” he finally answers. “Every male would yearn for such from a perfect female standing before them.”

I stare at him, vaguely impressed at just how slick that was carried off. I shake my head and let out a small laugh as I liberate my hand from his grip.

“Sorry, demon boy, but I don’t think so,” I chuckle, freeing my hand from his warm grasp.

He cocks his head at me, and his long, delicately pointed, ivory ears angle forward. His face is a mask of confusion one moment and then bright with amusement the next. A melodious laugh escapes him, one I can practically feel vibrate through me in all the best kinds of ways.

“Demon? I must be the first unicorn in history to be confused with a demon,” he observes, laughter lighting his gaze.

A unicorn. Really.

I stare at him and huff. Surely, he could have been a little more creative than going for unicorn. Did he think I would buy it just because he has a horn?

He really must think that I’m gullible as hell.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no way in hell you’re a unicorn,” I say as I struggle to keep my lip from curling. “I’ll grant that you’re a very pretty demon, though.”

My disdain is showing, but there’s good reason for it. I was the poster child for unicorn obsession as a little girl. I have every bit of confidence that I can mop the floor with him and am not afraid to let it show. More than anything, I’m appalled that a fae would claim to be something as pure and magical as a unicorn.

“I most certainly am a unicorn,” he replies flatly. “Anyone of Lehamenin would know me on sight, and most would avoid me for that reason. That humans no longer have any true knowledge of my kind doesn’t discredit my existence.”

Yeah, okay. Avoid him for what, exactly? As far as fae go, he’s not the most intimidating specimen. Not to mention that his statement clearly contradicts unicorn lore. Who ever heard of anyone being afraid of a unicorn?

I roll my eyes this time and snort at him again because this is just getting silly.

“Look, dangercorn, you are not a unicorn. Trust me on this. I spent my entire childhood obsessing over them. I had dozens of models, watched The Last Unicorn and Legend hundreds of times and probably even owned every poster in existence at the time. Unicorns aren’t men who look like sex on a stick, they don’t strike fear in other fae, and they certainly don’t have fangs. No way in hell are you a unicorn,” I throw in his face, feeling particularly triumphant that my childhood fantasies are paying off now.

“I speak only the truth,” he replies, a stiff note now present that hadn’t been there before. He’s not happy with me, and I’m feeling childishly victorious about it.

He gives me an exasperated look, but I don’t really care. He can go play his little mind games with another woman. I give him my back and straighten my jacket as I take my place at the end of the line. I’ve already wasted too much time on this ridiculous exchange rather than focusing on what I’m there for—my cup of coffee. I blame it on the sheer ridiculousness of his statement. I just couldn’t let it slide. A lot of things seem to exist in this world that I hadn’t expected, any number of which he could have claimed to be and I would have completely believed him… but a unicorn? Please.

“And you are my mate,” he announces to my back so unexpectedly that laughter bursts from me.

I don’t try to hold it back or even turn around. It just spills out of me freely, shaking my shoulders with its strength as I stare at the red shirt of the woman standing just in front of me.

“Me? Your mate? Of course. What else would I be but a mate to a creature of purity and innocence?” I say around the laughter that’s almost choking me.

I’m laughing so hard I can feel my eyes tearing up. It’s starting to draw attention to us, and I halfway feel bad about the negative attention he’s getting. It’s his fault, though. He really should have given up when he had the chance.

“I fail to see the humor in this,” the demon mutters unhappily behind me as I wipe at my face in a vain attempt to compose myself.

Mama is going to die when I tell her about this one. At thirty-two, I’m far from being some innocent maiden that unicorns are said to seek. I suppose I should be flattered that he would assume I’m suitable for his little fantasy, but instead I’m in complete awe of the absurdity of his claim.

I’m still smiling with unconcealed amusement and shuffling forward with the other people waiting in line when my phone rings. I look at the caller ID and groan when I see who it is. I’m not due to see them for another two hours. Why are they calling me now? I’m already thinking ahead to who I might have to move or cancel if this ends up being as bad as yesterday.

Answering the phone, I cradle it between my shoulder and ear.

“Steph Bennet speaking,” I begin cordially.

“Oh, thank goodness I caught you,” a masculine voice starts on the other end of the line. “We really want to get an early start. This whole process is just a nightmare! I hope you have something better for us to see today. You know…”

I frown in exasperation as I listen to my client ramble about what didn’t work in the last house that we looked at in minute detail while proceeding to add to his list of “must haves” for the house. I can feel the beginning of a headache building and swallow back a groan.

The fun is over. It’s time to get back to work. I miss half of what the client says, however, because the so-called unicorn suddenly leans in and brushes up behind me.

“Until we meet again, Ahandral,” he murmurs into my ear, his breath sending an unexpected tingle of desire through me.

I know the likelihood of seeing him again is thankfully small, so I’m able to return my complete attention to my call without any further worries or interruptions. By the time I have my coffee in hand and am headed back out to my car, I’ve hammered out a game plan with my client and have a revised list of houses to see today that are a better fit with what he’s looking for. Just a small annoyance in the greater scheme of things… much like the demon-unicorn man.

At just the thought of him, I can’t help but shake my head in disbelief.

I still can’t believe he tried to sell me on that load of shit.

I admit it’s a shame that unicorns aren’t real. If they were, it would be every childhood fantasy come true. I can almost imagine how they would look, galloping freely outside to the delight of little girls and grown women everywhere. They wouldn’t be a seven-foot-tall horned man, built like a god, trying to get into my pants. I snicker to myself and open the car door.

Gods only know, if he is a unicorn, how I would explain that one to my eight-year-old niece.

Chapter 3

Eliph

I give the werewolf at my side a doubtful look.

“Are you certain?” I ask slowly, just to make sure I heard correctly.

The male who had introduced himself an hour earlier—or was it two—as Eral grins, his expression wolfish despite his human guise. Of course, I knew what he was the moment he introduced himself. A werewolf is hard to miss.

While it is common for unmated werewolves to take on the appearance of the dominant species in a given population during the full moon, little can completely hide their true nature from those who know what to look for. Every inch of him barely contains that powerful nature. In fact, with the scars raked down one side of his face from some sort of past battle, he looks fiercer than most. A dark lock of hair falls over his amber eyes as he lifts his cup to me.

“Perhaps I should ask for another opinion,” I mutter as I glance around hopefully.

A solid thunk of the cup hitting the table snaps my attention back to Eral. The male gives me an irritated look and gestures to the other males crowded within the establishment. Few of those who were unoccupied at the moment were human and even fewer were female.

“You wish to try your luck with one of them? I doubt many of them have even so much as been within touching distance of a human female, since they avoid this part of the city now. I think I know better than most here. After all, my brother is mated to a human. If you want to know what human females favor, then take my word for it. I have seen him return with many love tokens for her. If you wish to gain the favor of your female, then sweet things and flowering plants are necessary. Whenever my brother gifts his mate love tokens, the entire clan is awakened by her ‘appreciation,’” he chuckles.

“It seems a little too easy,” I hedge. “I find it hard to believe that a human will agree to be my mate with so little effort.”

But then again, what do I know? My kind relies on little more than our beauty and magic to convince our mates to mount us and be carried off. That Steph resisted my attempts to engage her is confusing and an obstacle I didn’t expect.

Eral shrugs and takes another deep gulp of his beer.

“I don’t think they are terribly complicated,” he replied. “Don’t misunderstand. Anna is a powerful female. I have great affection and respect for her. But she enjoys simple pleasures and has an easy disposition.”

“I don’t think I can say the same of my female,” I observe. “She is very resistant.”

The male chuckles into his cup, eyes glinting with humor.

“That is what the sweets and flowers are for. It proves your desirability as a mate by giving her little things that she longs for.”

I blink at him in confusion because this is still not making sense.

“If she longs for them so much, can’t she just buy some for herself? That seems to be the easiest way to get them.”

The werewolf huffs as if I’m being deliberately obtuse and leans forward in close.

“It’s obvious to see that what everyone says about your species is true—that your species breeds no females among you. I have never before met a male who knew nothing at all about females.” He chuckles with a shake of his head. “Listen, you are looking at it wrong. It is not about what she can do for herself. It is about what effort you’re willing to make. The females in my clan can provide for most of their own wants and rise to their positions with single minded determination, and yet males woo them with love tokens that they can easily acquire anywhere else with their own coin. It’s about letting her know that you are interested in her happiness.”

“A symbolic gesture,” I say slowly.

This makes a peculiar sort of sense. Unicorns are fond of symbols, whether it is in the art we collect or in quests that we formulate for those who seek our magic. A gesture promising happiness doesn’t sound out of place, although it is strange that it is not something we have ever done with our mates as far as I know. I can’t recall a single time when my father offered a symbolic love-token to my mother. Though my mother was an elf prior to their mating, so it’s possible that she had no interest in such things. While their passions run hot, they are not always the most expressive beings.

“Females love to be wooed, and happily reciprocate affection for males who give theirs freely,” Eral adds, his expression thoughtful and filled with something that looks much like longing. “You are a lucky male to have found yours.”

I feel genuine sympathy for him. It is clear that, while he does not say so, this is a male who longs to find a mate of his own. A situation I understand all too well. He stinks of despair, loneliness, and anger, all of which he seems to ignore as he mutters something under his breath and takes another gulp of his beer. I need to go to my mate, but I’m uncomfortable just abandoning him at the table alone. As if sensing my concern, he glances over at me as he drops his cup again, smacking it once more against the table, his lips quirking in self-deprecation.

“Don’t look so worried. A few drinks is hardly enough to harm me. I haven’t hit my limit yet and, despite all appearances, have no desire to be one of those males who drink themselves into a stupor. I will be fine,” he says as he waves me off. “Go find your mate.”

“It’s not a matter of finding,” I reply, relieved that I can leave without grave consequence. “A unicorn can always find his mate once his magic has entwined with her essence. As long as she is above ground and in the same realm, I always know where she is.”

Eral stares at me quietly, as if he’s uncertain whether or not to believe me. After a long, drawn-out moment, he snorts and lifts his cup again.

“That’s useful,” he mutters.

I give him an understanding smile as I push to my feet.

“I wish you the best of luck in finding a mate and thank you for your assistance. Do not worry about the bill for the drinks you’ve enjoyed in my company. I will cover the bill.”

He looks over at me, surprised, but doesn’t protest. His eyes only narrow on me before he shrugs and decides to let it go. I suspect he’s thinking about unicorn magic and the likelihood that I don’t have human money on me from one moment to the next. I am equally certain that, rather than feeling obligated to lecture me as he was tempted to, he has decided to just leave me to it.

Fine with me. I have no interest in hearing another confusing lecture, nor in being held up any longer now that I understand what my mate requires.

A symbolic gift of my devotion and care.

I still think sweets and flowers are a bit lackluster as far as symbolic gifts for something so deeply personal, but I admit it’s practical to listen to the werewolf. He understands the matter far better than I do.

A fairy working behind the counter pauses, as they are as mischievous and troublesome as goblins, but the male smiles jovially at me as he accepts my cash and coin. If he can detect that they are spun of magic, he gives no indication, or just simply doesn’t care. He drops them into the register and acknowledges my request for a cab with a cheerful nod before turning to his next customer.

The air is cool when I step outside, but I don’t have long to wait before the cab pulls up. I slip inside, eager to be on my way. I have wasted a good part of the day already, although I can’t say that it was entirely ill-spent since I received useful advice.

I am still growing accustomed to taking cabs. It’s strange to be carried around in the claustrophobic confines of a conveyance when my fetch-form is much more efficient. Still, I find it pleasant to relax and watch the view pass by the windows, so it is not all bad.

“I need to purchase sweets and flowers for my female. Please take me to them,” I call out to the driver as I settle comfortably against the back of the seat.

The male in the front seat meets my eyes in the mirror, and his brow lowers. I would almost mistake him for human if it weren’t for the fact that his eyes are blood red, and the powerful energy that emanates from him. He presses his lips together thoughtfully but nods as he pulls away from the curb into traffic.

“Your best bet would have been a florist, but most of them are closing shop at this hour, so a grocer will have to do. There are still some nice picks to be found there, however,” he grumbles. “And more sweet things to choose from.”

I greet this information with a smile.

“Perfect. Please take me to the nearest grocer.”

The driver merely grunts.

The grocer turns out to be nearer than I expected, as well as less busy than I would have thought a place dealing in food at all hours would be.

“It’s because we are in the fae quarter,” he replies when I make mention of it. “It’s something that has happened gradually over the last couple of years. The more fae who come to settle permanently, the more the humans flee and the more we are pressured to remain in our own settled communities. We work here and live here. They will even turn away my cab service if I arrive, so I no longer even attempt to do pickups outside of our quarter. There’s less work to be had unless humans are coming to connect for a spirited adventure for a night or two.” He laughs disdainfully.

I frown, perplexed. That can’t be right.

“I don’t understand. I’ve been all through the city without problem,” I object.

“Oh, most won’t turn your business away, but everyone will be looking at you. Some lusting after you, others abhorring your very presence among them—sometimes the same people,” he remarks with a humorless smirk. “The wild ones may try to instigate something. But the pressure to go back to where you belong is always there, regardless of how subtle it is. They tolerate us in the city as long as we remain in our place, providing amusement and sating their darker appetites when wanted, and are not seen as a threat.”

“I see,” I mutter unhappily.

I wonder if that’s why my mate looked so much like she wished to flee from my company. Was she both attracted and repulsed by me? I know she was attracted at the very least. Although she somehow resisted my magic, the taste of her desire had been undeniable. The memory alone spurs me on as I open the cab door.

It wouldn’t be the first time a unicorn carried off a challenging mate. I will contain her within my grotto and set about wooing her and winning her trust and affection just as my kind has always done since the first of us walked the earth.

Like the fairy, the driver doesn’t comment on my money when I pay him. He merely pockets it and offers to wait until I finish my shopping. I am grateful for that and promise that I won’t be long, which he acknowledges with another of his grunts.

As I walk toward the doors, they slide open, admitting me into the cool interior of the store. The smell of fresh produce and cut meat hits me almost immediately, making me salivate. I don’t have time for that now, however, so I ignore the sensation and make my way to the flower display that’s set up by bins of fruits and vegetables.

Stepping in front of gathered clumps of flowers wrapped in transparent colored material, I inspect them critically. Cut from the living plants, their decay makes their scent more pungent than it would otherwise be, each blossom a little less vibrant. I’m not even sure which one a female might favor.

From the corner of my eye, I watch a few other females approach and make their selections, each of them casting a wary—and in at least one case, interested—look in my direction. I’m curious of their selections, but to my frustration, there doesn’t seem to be any sort of agreement among them which flowers were the more preferable.

My eyes linger on the roses and move to the carnations and mums. I turn to ask a female who has materialized at my side to grab her own clump, but she skitters away, her chosen flowers clutched to her chest as she tosses a wary look over her shoulder. I bite down on a curse. It seems that I will just have to do this the ancient, time-tested way of making an impossible selection.

I close my eyes and randomly pick one up.

Opening my eyes, I look at the clusters of white flowers with their bright yellow centers.

Daisies.

I nod in satisfaction and turn to the task of finding the sweets.

As it happens, they are contained on one aisle. There are really so many that it is hard to choose. Rich, dark confections of something called chocolate all equally captivate me as I look at the images pressed on the gift boxes. They are like tiny silken jewels waiting to be tasted.

To my surprise a young male standing at the end of the aisle presses a tiny cup into my hands containing one of the little delicacies. It is of a hue that reminds me of the soft skin of my mate’s neck and I reverently slip it between my lips. An incredible flavor sweeps over my tongue, rich and deep, sweet and yet with a bite to it that is pleasing in ways I cannot describe. It doesn’t last long, but as I lick the remnants off of my lips, I wonder for a moment if she would taste as sweet.

I glance at the offerings in the box and feel a sudden apprehension as I look at the variations that are nestled within it, each different from the one sitting next to it. What if she doesn’t like all of them? I don’t wish to displease my mate. Worse, there are so many varieties sitting stacked neatly on the shelves that it feels even more impossible to choose.

I glance around me helplessly, a strange and utterly unfamiliar anxiety rising within me. How can I offer this as a token of love when she may not favor any one of the other chocolates?

Chocolates may be too complex of an issue for me to decipher when it comes to deciding on a love-token.

My sire did often advise during my youth that, when in doubt, going a simple route is ideal. I will simply choose something that makes me happy to look upon, just the way my entire being swells with joy when I look upon her. She brings a vibrancy into my life, making the world around me more colorful, and bright like sunlight refracting from a drop of rain. Finding my ahandral has cut through the gloom of the many long years of my existence just that easily.

A bright rainbow of colors catches my eye as I near the end of the aisle, and I smile at the sight of clear packages filled with long, colorful strips, each changing in color from one ed to the other in brilliant hues of green, yellow, red, and blue. A tiny rainbow of happiness to convey my joy of having her presence in my life. Perfect!

The chocolates I will test further and get her the best of them when I claim her. Until then, these will do.

I tuck the little rainbows in with my flowers and head over to a cashier to make my purchase. I have no doubt that Steph will love these.

Happily, the driver is still waiting for me as promised, saving me the effort of locating another. He takes one look at my courting gift and lets out a surprised laugh—no doubt impressed by my marvelous selection. I preen a bit at that, and he shakes his head.

“Daisies and gummy worms as a mating gift,” he mumbles. “Now I’ve seen everything.”

Gummy worms, are they? Not rainbows? I can’t object, they sound positively fertile, promising a life of great bounties for us as a mated pair! What a delightful symbol.

My smile widens as I carefully arrange the package of gummy worms with the clump of daisies and admire my handiwork. My mate is certain to be impressed by this gesture.

Chapter 4

Steph

Kicking off my heels at the door, a groan escapes me as my stocking feet flatten on the floor. Gods, that feels good. I curl my toes up and wince a little as I walk from the door into the apartment. I can hear laughter and chatter coming from the kitchen. No doubt Tonya is home and Mama is finishing up dinner before she leaves. I know it’s Mama’s cooking from the good smells filling the house. I love my sister to death, but that girl can burn water.

Since she and her daughter moved into the spare bedrooms of my condo, I’ve had more than enough experience with my sister’s kitchen disasters. Mama doesn’t cook often, only when she’s watching my niece, Harriet. It is for that reason alone that, despite dying to climb into bed, the appetizing smell draws me into the kitchen.

The kitchen is the heart of the house, and warmth floods me as I step into the cheery room. Tonya is sitting at the table next to Harriet, the bangles around her wrists clattering together as she shuffles and reshuffles the cards in her hand.

“Care for a reading, sis?” she calls out as I come over and bend down to hug my niece.

“And why would I want a thing like that?” I tease as I give Harriet a tight squeeze.

My sister huffs playfully. “To get insights on your current path and where it’s leading you, of course. We have this discussion every time.”

“Then obviously it’s a wasted effort on me,” I shoot back as I go to investigate what Mama is cooking.

My sister ignores me as she lays out her cards. She peers down at them and gives a happy grunt.

“Would you be interested to know that your life is about to change? You are about to meet your soulmate. He is powerful and attractive…”

“And if he’s not a CEO or working a comfortable nine-to-five gig, I’m not interested,” I interrupt, banishing the unbidden image of the fae I met today from my mind.

Tonya groans. “How are we even related? I would love nothing more than for someone to come and sweep me off my feet. And attractive too… Damn.”

I chuckle and lean in to plant a kiss on my mother’s cheek.

Mama raises an eyebrow at me as she stirs the pot again.

“You’re home late,” she comments. Not disapproving, just matter of fact, as always.

“It was one of those days,” I groan and give dinner a sniff. “Smells like this make it all worth it, though.”

My stomach lets out a hungry gurgle, and I lick my lips in anticipation. Grabbing the spoon sitting on the stove, I prepare to sneak a taste when her back is turned to me as she goes to get some seasoning from the cupboard.

“Don’t even think about it. Go sit down somewhere. It’s got fifteen minutes left, and then you can eat.”

I return the spoon to its resting place with a grimace but sit down on the stool beside the stove.

“How do you even do that?” I mutter. “I was just going in for a little taste. Don’t see what it would hurt.”

“And then your sister would want a taste, and then Harriet, and then you all would be coming in for another—and half of dinner would be gone before it even got set on the table,” Mama chides without looking up from the shelves.

“It could be worth it,” I tease.

“After the day I’ve had, I’m starving,” Tonya agrees. “I just got home myself. Thanks for watching Harriet for me today, Mama… and getting dinner going,” she adds. “I know your Sundays are usually pretty busy.”

Mama shrugs, smiling as she looks over her shoulder at my sister.

“Just had to rearrange my schedule a bit. I moved my charity work to the midweek, and I’ll be joining Mr. Davis for a late supper tonight.”

I grin at that and wrap my arms around her shoulders in a tight hug.

“Imagine that! My mama’s getting more action than me these days,” I tease.

She huffs a little, a soft laugh escaping her as she swats me away.

“You would have plenty of action if you weren’t so determined to work yourself to death,” she retorts. “When was the last time you’ve even bothered to get dressed up and go somewhere that wasn’t work? Or had a nice man over?”

“Yeah, because that worked out so well for me before,” I reply drolly.

She rolls her eyes at me and hands me a small stack of plates and silverware.

“Here, take this and set the table. Now, you know,” she continues as I head toward the table, “not all men are going to treat you like Darrel Jackson did. He was worse than a dog for all that he dressed nice and was a smooth talker.”

That’s putting it nicely. He talked his way into my heart and into bed, convinced me to partner with him in our own family real estate business. We set up a joint bank account, and I moved all my funds over. We made a few big sales, and it never occurred to keep track of his transactions. I didn’t question why he wasn’t making sales like I was, yet we were bleeding money due to random expenses. I told myself that was just how it was when you work for yourself. The day after a particularly big commission, I was shellshocked to find my condo emptied of his personal belongings and some of our more expensive joint purchases, an explosion of bad reviews that damaged my reputation due to his dishonest dealings with people, and every dime cleaned out of “our” bank account.

I don’t know what I would have done if Mama hadn’t helped me get back on my feet. Because of her, my business is on the rise and I have this nice little condo. It was a little lonely at first, but when Tonya separated from her ex, I was happy to be there for her. Darrel taught me a hard lesson about trusting men, though, especially good-looking, charismatic men charming their way into my life with sweet words, tender kisses, and extravagant gifts.

I give Mama a small smile as I finish setting out the silverware.

“Not all of us get a man like Mr. Davis,” I say with forced lightness.

“How do you know if you aren’t willing to even give them a test drive?”

A laugh busts out of me, and I grin over at her.

“Are you trying to tell me I need to get laid?”

Mama chuckles and gives me a knowing look.

“That’s not what I said, but if that gets the job done, then I guess I’d call that good enough. Regardless of what you do between the sheets, I want you to be out there having fun and giving yourself a chance to at least find someone special. All you do is work.”

“I have to in order to be successful. I had to start over with my five-year plan, and we both know that living doesn’t come cheap. I don’t have time for anything but work while I catch up again. Send a millionaire my way and maybe I’ll reconsider,” I joke.

“Well, you heard what Tonya said…” she replies with a smirk.

I throw my head back and groan.

“No. Please, Mama. I love her to death, but… just… no.”

“Hey!” Tonya objects. “I heard that. Suit yourself if you don’t want to take advice from the cards, but don’t go blaming the messenger.”

I smile at her. She means well, but I’m not pinning my hopes and plans on what her cards tell her. I’m too pragmatic to trust magic like I might have when I was younger. I found out the hard way that no amount of wishes or belief in magic and the impossible guarantees safety. I can only do that with my own efforts.

“Hmm… Not that it’s any of my business, but it sounds to me like you’re not even willing to hope, much less try. Makes it easier to discount your sister too,” Mama observes, gesturing at me with the wooden spoon in her hand.

My lips press together as I try to think of a good way to explain exactly why I can’t just go off on a lark hoping that any man I meet might be the one my sister claimed to see in her cards. I’m both startled and relieved when the doorbell rings.

“Saved by the bell,” I sigh gratefully.

Mama rolls her eyes as I hurry out of the kitchen and head toward the door. I have no idea who would come over this late, but I will listen to anyone’s pitch for whatever they’re selling just to escape that particular conversation.

“I don’t suppose it’s too much to hope for Girl Scouts,” I mumble.

Some thin mints sound pretty damn good right about now. An entire box and a bubble bath. That’s about as luxurious as I aim these days.

When I throw open the door, a familiar purple-eyed albino demon smiles at me. Promptly, I fling the door shut so hard that it slams, my heart jumping into my throat. How the fuck did he know where I live?

“Auntie Steph?”

I glance behind me at the small gasp I hear and see Harriet standing there, her headphones pulled down, her mouth hanging open as she gives me a quizzical look.

“Why did you slam the door in the unicorn man’s face?” she asks, her expression beyond appalled.

I’m so startled by her statement that I stand there in a daze and am therefore delayed in grabbing her as she zips by me and pulls the door open once more. Her usually somber expression brightens with a huge smile as she looks up at the male on the other side of the door.

“It is you! I just knew that unicorns are real,” she breathes as she clutches her notebook tightly to her chest.

I frown. There’s no way. I peer through the door and scramble back as a white unicorn with a pearly horn, cloven hooves, and a tail like a lion’s ducks through the door and sweeps into the room. He’s like something straight off the medieval unicorn tapestries in terms of his tail and hooves, but the rest of him is pure stallion.

“No fucking way,” I mumble to myself

Harriet picks up something from the floor just outside the door with a delighted little squeal. I don’t see what it is clearly, other than something wrapped in bright green plastic, because she ducks past me to rush after him. It’s all I can do to remember to shut the door before I follow him at a slower pace, my mind struggling to come to terms with what my eyes are seeing.

Mama, with Tonya close on her heels, chooses that moment to come from the kitchen, a frown on her face.

“What is all the fuss going on out here—oh my!” she says as she jerks to a stop, her eyes widening at our guest.

“Holy shit,” Tonya whispers in awe.

I silently agree with them and also think of a few more choice expletives for the situation, but my tongue doesn’t seem to be functioning at the moment. I can only shake my head.

There is a unicorn in my apartment.

Chapter 5

Eliph

This space is… small. Already, I can see that my impulsive action was ill planned. I have to keep my head level so my horn doesn’t inadvertently damage anything around me, but I fail to account for the size of my torso… or my tail, for that matter, which comes dangerously close to knocking a delicate figure from a shelf. I tuck it in close to my haunches. I don’t want to destroy my mate’s home, or accidentally harm any of the humans tucked in around me.

Calling forth what little magic is still accessible to me despite my unfulfilled mating, I reach for my fae form.

As usual, such magic comes with a price. It sears my insides, painfully rearranging muscle and tissue. When I was a juvenile, the pain used to knock me unconscious but, at my age, I am able not only to remain alert, but also remember to spin clothes around myself so that when the process is complete, I stand before them in a simple tunic and close-fitting trousers. My ahandral stares at me, her mouth parted in shock, so I’m uncertain as to her immediate feelings regarding my presence. Just being near her, however, sends a familiar warmth through me. It’s followed by the anticipated rush of possessive protectiveness that briefly steals my breath.

I knew that everything would change when I met my mate, but I am surprised anew at just how strongly my nascent bonds with her are affecting me emotionally. Nothing could prepare me for this, and yet I am eagerly embracing the experience with both hands. I can’t seem to get enough of her. Excitement bubbles within me, and I am eager to show her my grotto, to mate with her beneath the canopy of the forests or within the bower waiting for her in our hidden keep, and to eventually fill her with a son, when my ahandral is agreeable.

Eventually. We have plenty of time for such things. Unicorns breed slowly, and while some drop a foal soon after mating, others can wait many decades. I’m a patient male. I would be happy spending as much time as it takes alone with my female.

But I’m getting ahead of myself… First, the wooing.

“Good evening, Ahandral,” I greet her warmly.

She stares back at me silently, which is mildly ominous.

I give her a wry smile as I absently rub my forehead around the base of my horn with one hand. “It seems that our courtship is one that is going to include multiple incidents with a door—or my mate has a penchant for violence,” I murmur sweetly.

I can tell that it doesn’t charm her in the slightest if her expression is anything to go by. Her eyes are practically twin slits of suspicion, and for once, I feel a tremor of unease facing a female. It is an entirely unnatural feeling, and I’m at a loss. My confidence slips in a jarring internal note, and suddenly I have no idea what I’m doing or any idea of how to win my mate’s affection.

Carrying off one’s mate has always been the easy part among our species—isn’t she supposed to be overcome by attraction and wonder right now? The potent magical calling between us should be just as irresistible for her as it is for me, never mind the fact that a unicorn’s voice and beauty have never failed to draw a desired female. For ages, those two things have been reliable tools that we have used to ensnare our mates.

A soft giggle draws my attention to the human foal at my side. She grins up at me and holds up the mating gift I had dropped in my moment of desperation.

“Here,” she whispers, “you dropped this. Looks like you’re going to need it.”

I’m starting to think that she may be right.

“Harriet,” another female hisses from another doorway, “get over here.”

“Yes, Mama,” Harriet replies.

She shoves the mating gift into my arms at the exact moment I bend down to accept them and hurries over to her mother’s side. The moment she comes within reaching distance, the female pulls her foal behind her before passing her off to an older female standing off to the side, watching our exchange with amusement.

“Let’s give them a minute alone, shall we?” the older female drawls.

She takes the foal by the hand and grips the mother by the arm and hustles them ahead of her, back through the entrance from which they had emerged.

With their absence, I glance hopefully at my mate and am disappointed to see that there is no softness that comes in our moment of privacy. This is worrisome. She is my ahandral. She is supposed to recognize the call of magic just as much as I do. She should be feeling the bubbling cascade of it through her blood and respond to that. Dragging a hand through my mane, I pinch my lips together in frustration and look away, trying to make sense of this strange mating.

“I don’t know who you think you are…” she begins in a tight voice.

Oh, right. I never did introduce myself.

“Eliph,” I offer in an attempt to correct my error.

“Okay, Eliph, I want to know how you found me,” Steph demands.

She sounds… angry. Why is she angry? Not only is she not responding to the draw between us like a normal mate would, but she is reacting hostilely to my presence. This is all wrong.

I peer at her, looking for any clue as to where I erred, but instead of finding what I seek, I am strangely captivated. Her cheeks burn with a flush, and her eyes spark with inner fires. Her chest heaves, making the swell of her breasts rise with each breath. She’s glorious.

Under the scrutiny of her temper, I feel an unexpected surge of desire as my blood heats and pools deep within me. A shiver runs over my flesh, my skin tightening with need. Thankfully, my tunic is long and loose so that my state is not blatantly visible. Not that I would normally mind, but I do not think my female would appreciate seeing the effect she has on me at this moment.

But oh, I love that I have a delightfully fierce mate. Undaunted, I gaze back at her with honest admiration. That she is surprised I knew her location amuses me a little, because it is just one of many little things she will discover of our bond. But I won’t distress her by keeping it a secret.

“I can always find you. No matter where you are,” I state casually.

Perhaps I should have been less truthful or framed it in a different manner. Her mouth drops open in horror, and she makes a choking sound in the back of her throat that immediately has me concerned for her welfare. Thankfully she doesn’t suffocate but regains enough of her breath back to shriek at me.

“Wh—what? Are you telling me that you know where I am at any moment of the day, no matter where I am?” she asks, intonation rising with each word and ending with a snarl.

Snarling! How adorable! But I hate that she seems so distressed. It really isn’t necessary, but I don’t know how to resolve the issue.

I consider doubling back and recanting, given how alarmed she appears, but ultimately that won’t help us any. The moment she called to my magic and established the bond, there’s no backing out for me like there might be for other males who select a female. Without the magic being returned through her love, I will wane and die.

Of course, it may just be delaying the inevitable. A unicorn can seize a mate so that he can court her in his grotto, but it doesn’t guarantee a mating. And unlike other males, I don’t have the luxury of trying again if she refuses the bond. I must get her to my grotto one way or another to have a chance at a true courtship, and I don’t want her to try to run away from me. That would just scare her more than necessary. I don’t want that. At my nod, however, she grows more incensed.

“Well, you can just stop then because that’s some next level stalker shit. I don’t want you anywhere near me!” she spits out vehemently.

A sense of doubt rises insidiously from my gut, and I cock my head at her in confusion. It is not a matter of what she wants—or even what I want, since I did not consciously choose her. It just is what it is. For my kind, there’s no denying the call of magic.

“I don’t understand. You are my ahandral. There is no stopping it. You simply are what you were born to be,” I reply.

She swipes a hand over her face, and the breath she draws into her lungs is tremulous, as is her voice as she mumbles a defeated, “This is nuts.” She takes another breath, this one steadier, and meets my eyes, her gaze hard despite the fear lurking within the depths of those eyes.

I hate that she’s frightened. The gifts of my species are supposed to make this easier on her, less traumatic.

But then again, if this is her reaction without unicorn magic easing the way, maybe we are the sort of monsters that other species consider us to be if we have to deaden these feelings in order to steal them. This is not something that I’ve considered before. I have never given any thought to how a female would react without our magic influencing them. That I was raised believing that it eases their transition into our world suddenly sickens me.

I’m not above trickery on principle, but I want my mate to come with me with all of her fire still burning. I don’t want my mate lying half-limp over my withers like some other females whisked away by their mates. Imagining her in their place breaks my heart. Even though they never appear unhappy when they later go with their mates to the Heart of Wells, where their matings are permanently bound by the magic of the eldest of our kind, I can’t erase the image from my mind or its implications when my ahandral resists so fiercely.

No. It’s odd that the magic failed me, but I don’t regret it.

“There is no choice… for either of us. I could have chosen a female and stolen her away, but I waited for you—for my ahandral. Because you are the one I’ve waited for and longed for all of my life, and now that you are here, I can’t leave you. I can’t forget you or not know where you are because you are a part of me now,” I reply quietly.

“And so you just decided to barge into my house the moment you arrive at my door?” she retorts with a bewildered glare.

That is a fair criticism, and I feel a burning hot sense of shame. I did not consider it from her perspective. I had merely wanted to impress my mate with my fetch-form.

She watches me, her expression and posture guarded. I don’t attempt to approach. I have intruded more than I am now comfortable with. I’m not sure if I should just leave and give her some space or explain myself now and get it done with. Conflicted, I remain in place, my eyes fixed on my courting gift, which now seems quite foolish on my part.

A loud sigh escapes her after several minutes of very tense silence, and she rubs her temples with her fingertips.

“All of this craziness and I don’t even know what an ahandral is,” she mumbles.

“It means you are my magic-born mate. The one who is fated to be mine, whose power calls to my magic,” I reply just as quietly. “You hold a portion of my magic within you now.”

She expels a sharp breath, a look of surprise lighting her eyes.

“Okay, so what if we ignore it? There’s nothing that says that anyone has to go through with things just because fate decrees it. Maybe it will just go away.”

She sounds so hopeful that I can’t help but smile at her.

“It would,” I agree, and the relief on her face is hard to see. She doesn’t even want to give me a chance. I swallow against the nausea that threatens to choke me. “If we stay apart, a terminated mating will block my magical connection to my well. Unicorns are beings of magic… No magic means death for my kind,” I say.

She tries to look unaffected, but her eyes widen slightly, and that flicker of emotion is enough to ease my own rising despair.

“Like…what? You would only have a century or two left to live instead of five?” she asks with a weak note of forced humor.

“Three lunar cycles,” I correct her gently. “By the time the light of the third full moon rests upon my well, if I am left unbonded and with my connection lost, I will return to the magic of the well.”

“Shit,” she mumbles beneath the hand she sweeps over her face. “This is hardly a fair choice.”

I grimace at her choice of words. Remembering that my mating gift is still in my hands, I hold it out to her, silently beseeching her to take it. She won’t even look at my mating gift. Instead, she gives a mute shake of her head and looks away. Uncertain of what to do, I set the gift on the table close to me with a frustrated sigh. Perhaps if I leave it there, she will take it later. I stare down at it anxiously and look back at her.

She makes no move toward it. Instead, she glares at me with suspicion.

“Tell me the truth: are you just fucking with me to get your way?” she asks.

“This is, unfortunately, quite true,” I reply.

Lost in thought, she doesn’t meet my eyes, but when she finally speaks her words cut into my heart. They are filled with such anger, defeat and… sadness. That hurts most of all. I don’t want my ahandral to be sad.

“Great,” she mutters, “so my choice is to be your mate and give up my life or sentence you to death. What sort of fucked up options are those? It’s no fucking choice at all because I’m not the kind of monster to just say too bad, go die.”

A choice…

A glimmer of an idea hits me. I have a slim chance being presented to me to get my mate to my grotto. All I have to do is make her think she has another option—a situation where she can choose what she wants without the guilt.

I don’t want her to come with me just because she is guilty, I want a real chance to woo my mate, to show her the magic of my grotto and make her fall in love with me.

So… I will deceive her so she feels no guilt or pain over this.

I give her a tiny, earnest smile.

“There may be one way. If we go to the Heart of the Wells, deep in the forests of Lehamenin, the eldest unicorn Beforal dwells there. He has incredible power. Of all the unicorns, he is the one who seals bonds between mates. It seems likely that he would also have the power to sever our bond and return my magic to me.”

It’s not a complete lie, since unicorns whose mates refuse to complete the bond must take their females there and have the bond broken. The result is that the unicorn will immediately go into the Heart rather than returning to their own well. But what is the risk of dying a few days or weeks earlier? I am willing to pay that price.

“Think about it,” I murmur as I step past her. “Just call me three times and I will come to you—always.”

I draw her scent deep into my lungs as I slip by her. Her perfume stirs a voracious hunger within me, but I do not linger. I continue to walk to the door and place my hand on the knob. I look at her over my shoulder and note that she has turned to watch me and is staring at me, her expression revealing none of her thoughts.

“Oh, and I hope you enjoy your mating gift,” I say with a nod to the flowers and sweets still lying on the table.

Her eyes shift to the table but immediately return to me, and I can feel them on my back as I leave. Although there is a new trepidation weighing upon my heart, I hope she will call for me.

Chapter 6

Steph

My family doesn’t wait even two minutes after the unicorn leaves before they’re rushing back into the living room. Harriet is practically vibrating with excitement as she grabs my arm.

“Are you going to do it, Auntie Steph?” Harriet asks with an impish excitement. “If you go, can I go with you?” she begs, ignoring her mother’s frown.

I smile down at her and stroke her braids because I can understand where it’s coming from. I probably would have been over the moon at her age, too.

“Oh no, I don’t think so,” Tonya interjects. “If your auntie goes, it’ll be because it is something she needs to do. It’s not a vacation. There is no way you’re going to miss school or set foot in the fae world.”

She scrunches her face up at her mother, unhappy with the response.

“But Mama,” she pleads, “school is boring, and I never get to do anything exciting—not even a sleepover because you don’t trust anyone else but Auntie and Grandma to take care of me. I want to go, just this one time. He might end up part of our family, and I want to see their world. Please, please, please.”

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea, Harriet,” I say, earning a grateful look from my sister. “Trust me, it’s not going to be a lot of fun. Just a quick trip to get this done, and then I’ll be back in no time.”

Her little face falls, and I hate that I’ve disappointed her. Just one more thing to add to the disaster that’s become the unicorn courtship. I sigh and swipe a hand over my face. My bed has never been more tempting than it is right now. I am exhausted from my long day and the emotional roller coaster I just rode to death.

Tonya glances over at me and squeezes her daughter’s arm.

“Auntie’s right, baby. Besides, it’s just not safe.”

A disgusted huff escapes from my niece that I’ve never heard from her before.

“Ugh. You don’t think anything is safe. If you have your way, I won’t ever do anything fun. I’ll just grow up to be so boring that no one will want to be around me and end up all alone like you.”

“Harriet Grace Lawrence, watch the tone,” Mama advises sharply, her arms folded over her chest.

My niece looks mutinous for all of five seconds. She looks over at my sister and back at her grandmother’s stern glare before she wilts, her face crumpling.

“Sorry, Mama,” she mumbles. “I didn’t mean it.”

No, she probably didn’t mean to say something hurtful, but I have little doubt that it is what she feels, and I know that stings. Tonya’s lip quivers with emotion, and she swipes at her eye. Drawing in a rattling breath, she stoops down to meet Harriet eye to eye.

“I know, baby,” she murmurs, cupping her daughter’s cheek with one hand. “I do work a lot because I’m scared that if it weren’t for Auntie Steph that we would have nothing at all. I worry about us being safe and having what we need… and that goes double for you. But you are going to have a lot of years for adventures. Just be patient with your boring mama for now… okay? I’m sure when Auntie Steph gets back, she can tell us all about everything she saw.”

I feel like I’ve been forced into going now, but I don’t say so. In truth, my decision was already made when the unicorn—Eliph—offered the third option. I may not want to be mated to him, but he clearly didn’t choose this anymore than I did. I certainly don’t want to kill him. At least he came up with a possible remedy for our little problem. It sounded plausible. We just need to hop over and get a unicorn annulment at the Heart of Wells, and I can come back and pick up my life.

Damn, I hope it doesn’t take too long. I’m going to have to ask a friend of mine to take some of my appointments until I get back.

And now I feel bad. Here I am, worried about my appointments and the inconvenience of taking a few weeks off when this is literally a life-or-death matter for him. I’m still pissed as hell about the whole situation and the way he just barged in here like he had a right to, but now that I have some distance from the shitstorm, I’m able to find a bit of perspective on the matter. I can’t imagine waiting years and years for a mate—being lonely—only to be rejected. It must have been hard for him to give me that out. If nothing else, I’ll try to remember everything I see to tell Harriet when I get back—maybe even bring a little keepsake home for her—to ease at least one person’s disappointment.

Harriet gives a slow sigh and nods, a tiny smile on her lips.

“Yeah, okay. But I still really think it would be nice to have him as part of our family. He’s a unicorn, and there is no one as magical as that. What did he bring you?” she asks me.

“I don’t know. Let’s go see,” I say with a quiet chuckle as I walk over to the table.

A green plastic cone hides the bouquet nestled within it, so I must pick it up to see what exactly it contains. Since he’s a unicorn, I’m pretty sure it is something ostentatious like a pricey bouquet of roses or maybe some sort of expensive exotic flowers meant to impress and flatter me. I know my ex always splurged when it came to flowers because he saw it as a reflection of himself. I don’t expect any less from a unicorn. I glance down into the wrapping and blink in surprise.

Wrapped up is a mass of cheerful daisies. He brought me daisies—a flower just shy of being a weed among some gardeners. That’s what he chose. I feel the corners of my lips twitch, and my eyes fall on a small package tucked inside of them. I carefully ferret it out so as not to break any of the stems and choke on the laugh that comes bubbling up.

Gummy worms! A majestic, magical creature brought me daisies and gummy worms to court me. A giggle escapes me, and I clutch the package of cheap candy and bring it to my mouth, trying to stifle the laughter. It might be the silliest gift I’ve ever gotten from a man interested in me, as if he were absolutely clueless and just going off of what he thought I might like… and somehow, I find that really sweet.

I wouldn’t be surprised at all if that were the case. I haven’t heard of unicorns running around, and that would be something certain to get attention if it happened. This could be his first time in the human world. Goodness knows that the fae races don’t have the same social norms that humans have. Despite that, he tried. And that actually does mean something. It gives me hope that maybe we can end things between us on good terms if I don’t let my judgments get in the way. I’m sure if our positions were reversed, I would make all kinds of social blunders.

And, of course, just thinking of that makes me afraid all over again.

Shit! Going to the well means I’ll be in entirely unfamiliar territory. I swallow back a wave of anxiety and focus instead on tearing open the package of gummy worms with my teeth.

Popping one in my mouth, I suck at it for a moment, enjoying the taste of sugary candy slipping over my tongue before chewing it up. I pass a gummy to Harriet as I come over to Mama’s side and tip the bouquet so she can get a look at what it contains.

“Daisies!” she exclaims, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she takes them from me. “I’ll go put these in water for you before I leave. Dinner’s on the table, although it’s probably getting cold by now. All the same, go ahead and get started.”

She smiles down at the flowers as she precedes us into the kitchen. “I do love daisies. Your father, bless his soul, used to bring me daisies he handpicked when we were young. Don’t discount a man who brings you daisies. Besides, your unicorn man has plenty of flash without expensive flowers,” she finishes with a laugh.

I give her a disgruntled look as I sit at the table. The aroma of the food in front of me makes my mouth water, but her statement surprises me.

“Are you suggesting that I actually give the unicorn—Eliph,” I correct, “a chance to court me? I don’t plan on doing anything but getting this bond between us annulled as soon as possible.”

“I’m not suggesting any such thing,” she says coolly as she arranges them in a vase of water. “I’m just saying that people who do things from their heart rather than just for show may have more to them than what appears. Your unicorn is pretty and brash, but there’s something vulnerable about him,” she says thoughtfully as she sets the vase in the center of the table in front of me. “I guess I’m just saying don’t judge too quick on what you’re seeing, be it his handsome face or a simple bouquet of flowers. Give yourself time and maybe a chance while you’re racing off to get your so-called annulment. I want to see you happy again, Stephanie,” she murmurs.

I feel my face heat with embarrassment.

“I am happy, Mama,” I grumble.

It doesn’t even sound convincing to my own ears.

“All right. If you say so,” she replies easily. “As for me, I’m off to see my own little slice of happiness tonight. You think about what I’ve said and enjoy dinner.” She leans down, and my nose fills with her floral perfume as she kisses my brow. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mama,” I sigh.

“And I love you, Grandma,” Harriet pipes up, earning her a couple of hastily planted kisses that have her giggling.

Dinner conversation turns toward homework and our schedules for tomorrow. Tonya mentions that she has a couple of readings to do after work so I won’t be alarmed if anyone stops by. I mumble my agreement and don’t think much of it. She frequently has clients come by for readings when she’s home.

Despite my decision, I spend much of the meal dreading that Harriet will bring Eliph up again—but she never does. Still, he’s not far from my thoughts as I stare at the cheerful flowers in front of me.

Chapter 7

Eliph

I scowl at the goblin, displeased to see the creature following me. I didn’t think he had discovered my location. It has been a full day since I left my mate’s house, but it still fills me with unease that he is here. Swarthy gray-green with a broad nose for scenting prey, long and pointed ears surpassing even those of elves, sharp features, and even sharper teeth, the goblin grinning at me in the lobby of my hotel makes me uneasy.

I do have the option of ignoring him, of course, and going up to my room. But I can’t ignore that there is a reason he’s in the hotel, sitting in one of the plush chairs with one leg crossed over the other. Despite his appearance, he looks strangely at home due to the fact that his species has proportions similar to the average human. He’s far more comfortable than I would ever be cramped into human furnishings.

Drawing to a stop in front of him, I glare down at the male, my nostrils flaring.

“Good evening to you,” he drawls pleasantly.

“Who are you and what do you want, goblin?” I say, cutting directly to the heart of the matter.

He gives me a feigned wounded look for a heartbeat before he brushes inky bone-straight hair from his eyes and is back to grinning wider than ever.

“The name is Grimsal, just a humble goblin of the goblin court. As for what I want, well, I’m just satisfying my curiosity, you could say. I heard there was a unicorn in the human world and that just struck me as odd. Your kind don’t come here anymore. You were the first to leave this world.”

“For a reason,” I remind him stiffly.

He nods his head solemnly.

“Yes, yes. The hunts were quite terrible for your kind. But that makes me wonder what a unicorn would be interested in here. And then it struck me…What else would draw a unicorn but a number of young females fresh for the plucking? Other fae have been plundering the human race for mates. It was only a matter of time before a unicorn decided to take his due from among them,” he says slowly with relish. His grin is terrible, almost hungry, as he peers at me. “Isn’t that right?”

“Perceptive,” I mutter. “That still doesn’t explain your presence here.”

“Call it… curiosity. I decided to sniff out the matter. And I have to tell you that when I picked up your trail today, I found it interesting that your magic smells off—which can only mean you have found the rare ahandral,” he says. “So I decided to wait for you here, where your scent appears to be concentrated, rather than running all over this city. I am a patient male who knows that there are many who would enjoy getting their hands on a unicorn’s mare. They come along so infrequently and are so often unaware of just how much magic flows through their blood.”

I step toward him, my horn pulsing with a hot, acidic energy. It would take so little to assume my fetch form and destroy him… but I don’t. It’s clear that the goblin wants something or else he wouldn’t be here. He knows that I’m restraining myself, all because he has information. He would not be waiting on my arrival unless he was hoping to barter with it. He’s certainly not waiting around to challenge me. Few fae would be so foolish, and I don’t think a simple goblin of the deep woods would be one.

So what does he want?

My eyes narrow on him impatiently.

“I’m clearly aware. What I do not know is what you want from me. If you have information to sell, then name a price and be done with it. So far, I have not heard anything that I don’t already know.”

The goblin settles back in his chair, crossing his feet at the ankles. There’s a light of mischief in his emerald gaze, and I know then that he is in no hurry to tell me anything before he’s ready. I grit my teeth, wishing to drag the information from him, but it would do little good for the goblin folk who can translocate at will. He would merely pop into the liminal spaces that portals bridge and reappear safely out of my reach.

His grin widens as I debate with myself, possibly discerning the direction of my thoughts by what I assume is a murderous look on my face and the fists clenched helplessly at my side. The goblin lets out a long, deep laugh, and I notice for the first time that he’s clenching a red felt cap with a dark feather in its band. He’s not just any goblin. He’s a redcap, the most notorious tricksters and cutthroats among their kind.

I watch as he pretends to flick a speck of dirt from the brown sleeve of his tunic.

“Among my folk, it’s proper to discuss such thing over food and drink. Shall we enjoy an early dinner together and speak of pleasant things?” he cajoles.

“We will share a meal, but here are my terms,” I begrudgingly agree. “It will be room service so we can speak privately without being overheard. I will pay for the food to make sure that no one is cheated. And lastly, we will discuss whatever business you have to speak of as we eat.”

Grimsal chuckles with glee, slapping his cap on his head as he leaps to his feet.

“You have surprisingly little patience for an immortal, and far less than others of your kind I’ve run into—and are no fun at all at that—but I have to admire directness,” he says cheerfully. “Have it your way. I will not entertain you with stories of my escapades or females I have stolen nights with over the centuries.”

“I would rather you not,” I mutter as I lead him over to the elevator.

Throughout the entire elevator ride, he slants me knowing looks, his merriment practically spilling over. He is as excited as a spring foal, despite being an adult goblin in the prime of his life. Among the fae there are few beings as long lived as unicorns. Elves and fairies come close—and goblins. Of all of them, the goblins are so irreverent and carefree that, for the most part, his behavior isn’t all that unusual.

Biting back an annoyed sigh, I step out on my floor, hyperaware of the male strolling beside me. Rather than just a roughspun tunic, from the corner of my eye I can see all manner of precious metals and gems glinting off him as they catch the glow from the overhead lighting. He has to be wearing a fortune in embellishments and jewelry. Even his headband is embroidered with threads of gold. No doubt he would be a fine target for a thief… well, one who is desperate. I can’t think of any other who would cross such a feral-looking being, armed to the teeth with weapons bristling from his boots and overcoat that currently hangs open over his tunic. From where I stand, I can see even more weapons tucked inside the coat. That’s not even counting the goblin’s own natural defenses. His sharp teeth can give a poisonous bite to any attacker, and his retractable claws when extended are hooked dangerously. Wearing all the wealth that he does invites an attack, but I imagine that’s the point.

I refrain from speaking in hope that he will not see it as an invitation to be friendly. It’s an odd quirk of nature that, despite their rather annoying habits, they are perhaps the most sociable among the fae. If given the opening, he would likely talk ceaselessly before arriving at the topic that has brought him here. Some mortals like to jest about kissing the Blarney Stone… I’m not entirely convinced that, in the old ages, the goblin race wasn’t conceived in a hollow beneath it.

He strolls casually through the door I hold open, his lip curling at the plain decor. The place that I chose isn’t the most lavish, but it is clean, has a decent menu for room service, and is one of the better lodgings in the fae district. I feel more comfortable—less exposed—being here among the others. Most adult humans seem to have no clue as to what I am, but the age-old instinct to flee far from a dense human population is deeply ingrained.

The goblin shakes his head and casts a look my way that I do not care to decipher.

“This place is nothing to brag about to begin with, but why not at least pay for one of the nicer rooms if you insist on staying here?” he asks.

“Because I like my privacy,” I answer as I close the door behind me and cross the room, leaving the goblin to follow me.

“Hmm, I do suppose you would draw a lot of attention in one of the swankier places, for sure. You can do a bit of illusion so they don’t notice your horn, ears or tail, just as my kind can downplay some of our more prominent features, but that only takes us so far. Unlike elves, unicorns stand out as much as a goblin does. I suppose it must be nice as a unicorn, though, because even with your illusion enchantments, you’re still extraordinarily attractive to humans.” He pauses for a moment, tapping a finger on his chin. “Like catnip. The females will always notice you—and not in an unpleasant way. All the enchantments in the world won’t keep them from running in the other direction from a goblin,” he chuckles.

I grunt in agreement, only half-listening to begin with, and settle into one of the high-backed chairs near the window. I let him wander around the room aimlessly as I picked up the phone to order room service. His order of a thick steak, a portion of both potatoes and fries, and a large salad sounds like a bad case of indigestion to me, but I order two for the sake of convenience and set the phone down just in time to see the male sprawl on my bed and pick up the remote to the TV.

“Absolutely not. Put down the remote and get off my bed,” I snap, my hand slapping hard on the table beside me.

He raises an eyebrow in my direction even as his eyes dance with merriment. He’s amusing himself at my expense. Normally, I would ignore such provocation, but when it comes to my ahandral, I am a bit… touchy. It’s little wonder that I feel an overwhelming urge to stomp him into dust when his lips curve in a smirk and he sets the remote down without any sense of urgency. He even takes his time sliding off the bed, one leg at a time.

A delighted little laugh escapes him as he drops into the chair across from me, his green eyes narrowing. Propping his elbows on the table, he brings his hands up in front of his mouth and steeples his fingers, his cunning gaze sharpening as he stares speculatively at me.

It makes my fur itch and the fine hairs from my mane at the back of my neck tingle as they stand on end. As much as I dislike his talking, and his presence on my bed, which I have no interest in sharing with any being other than my mate, the staring is nearly intolerable. My lips pull back from my teeth in response, which is greeted with a spark of amusement lighting his eyes.

“You really must be the most irritable unicorn I have ever met. So much for the peace and serenity of your kind.” He laughs.

My brow drops, and I glare back at him.

“We seek peace and serenity in our grottos,” I say stiffly. “Unicorns are anything but peaceful when we are outside our territory. We were bred as war mounts for the gods, created to be loyal, powerful, swift, and aggressive when necessary. Human knights attempted to emulate this with their own armored horses.”

Laughter rolls from Grimsal’s chest, filling the room with unbridled merriment. “Well that certainly explains a lot,” he manages between shaky, broken bursts of amusement. “No wonder your kind can be such prickly bastards. That I’m here with the worst of them just goes to show how my luck runs.”

I huff but leave him to his laughter since it’s preferable to staring. I am relieved, however, when the doorbell chimes, announcing the arrival of room service. I leave the laughing menace in his chair as I hurry over to the door and accept our meal trays.

Finally! With the food here, we can get down to the reason for his visit.

I set the trays on the table and remove the domed lids. I must be hungrier than I realized, because my stomach twists with a noisy complaint of need. The goblin chuckles, stuffing a chunk of bread in his mouth as he gestures at me with the remaining portion still in his hand.

“This must be your first long stay away from your well. Hungry, aren’t you?” he asks gleefully. He pokes a finger toward my food, which I slap away. “Magic uses a lot of energy. Conjuring money, especially when you’re making real money rather than just temporary illusions like goblins do, takes a lot of it, in addition to disguising yourself when necessary, shifting into and out of your four-legged form. You’re not near your well to replenish you… and you’ve got a mare sucking half of your power without even knowing it,” he says with a chortle. “Trust me, as much as you may loathe to eat all of that, I guarantee you will eat every bite!”

I look at him skeptically but take a bite of the butter-slathered potato in front of me and stab my fork in his direction.

“All right. We’re eating. Now tell me what has brought you all this way to track me down.”

“Right to business, I see, and not even five minutes in to enjoy the lovely flavors of our meal.” He sighs mournfully.

I stare at him remorselessly. I’m not getting pulled into any of his games. I merely wait for him to get to his point.

He brushes crumbs from his fingers and takes a large bite of his steak, completely disregarding my glares.

“So, your mare… I’m surprised that you haven’t already absconded with her. Isn’t that how your kind usually do it? Stealing females even in broad daylight, gutsy lot you are. No wonder you were hunted as much as you were, with your magic unapologetically on display. Enough games now, though. Bring her out from wherever you have her magicked away and I can give you both my warning at the same time.”

I shift uncomfortably. I would rather not discuss my species’ shameful mating habits while I’m still processing my recent epiphanies about them. Even so, when it comes to my ahandral, my desire to share any information about her is considerably smaller. But I don’t understand why he would think she’s here.

I frown over at him, my hand rubbing through my mane.

“I don’t understand half of what you’re getting at. She’s not here. I don’t have her hidden anywhere with my magic. As to why we haven’t yet left, there were unforeseen obstacles, but my ahandral is safe where she is,” I mutter. “I wait for her agreement.”

The goblin gapes at me, another bite of food falling from his lips before he can close his mouth around it.

“Her agreement? You don’t have her stuck away in some little magical pocket in this room? I know your kind is clever for that, distorting the appearance of a place with your illusions to hide your mares and foals…”

At the shake of my head, he looks almost sick, his green face paling unnaturally as his hands clench and unclench on the arms of his chair.

“Oh… No good,” he groans. “This is no good at all. She was supposed to be with you now that you have found her. I thought you were just tarrying here to do some human shopping until you are ready to depart. This was just supposed to be a courtesy call to give you a friendly heads-up. Are you telling me that you left your mate alone?” he bellows in horror.

I scowl at him impatiently.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s not alone. She has her kin with her.”

The goblin leans over his chair, his breath coming out in large, wheezy gulps. “Has her family—oh, blessed ancient ones!” He turns his head to the side and looks up at me at an angle, eyes pleading. “Please tell me that you at least set wards.”

Puzzled, I cock my head. “Wards? I know the barrier wards of the grotto but have never done any others. Are you speaking of something like that?”

The male immediately buries his face in his hands, a low, pained moan coming from him.

“Do you not learn anything before you venture out to find mates? Did you not study at all what magic you’d need to know to safely acquire your mate in this world?” he demands, his head snapping up as he glares at me fiercely.

His expression both worries and angers me. He’s speaking to me as if I’m a foal… but no, I did not research such matters. I counted on my centuries of experience in Lehamenin to be sufficient. My tail twitches as I rise to my feet, anxiety racing through me, leaving me as breathless as I would be racing the entire distance of my territory at top speed. My chest heaves, and my hands clench.

“What are you trying to say?” I demand, my voice unsteady. “I was doing a kindness to my mate—giving her time to come to me before we left together. I have it all worked out. She is at home, safe and surrounded with her family until then, just as she’s always been. I was careful to not lead anyone to her…”

Grimsal slowly straightens and rises to his feet, facing me. For once, his expression is entirely sober, and his eyes flash with contempt.

“You idiot,” he hisses. “Did you not consider why your kind take your females so abruptly to your grottos? The moment your mare has a portion of your magic, it fills her blood. There are those that will track her. They will find her,” he growls as he paces toward me. I lower my horn in defense, but my body is shaking with dread as I force myself to listen. “I came to warn you to leave. The fairies have caught scent of her blood. I caught wind of their hunt as they left their forests. They will come for her.”

With a panicked shout, I spin away from him, rushing for the door. My fetch-form pushes at my magic, demanding to be released, but I have to wait until I’m out of the building. Then I can race across the expanse of this city for her.

I’m shaking with violent tremors in the elevator, only half-aware of the goblin at my side. All I can think of is her as we smoothly descend. Despite the tranquil movement of the elevator, I am shifting restlessly, my skin prickling with energy. I know my horn must be glowing because I can see a soft sheen of illumination on the metal walls around me. I try to hold in my panic, so I retain control of my shift. I haven’t lost control of a shift since I was less than a century old. The need to transform into my fetch-form is almost undeniable with the threat to my mate’s safety.

The moment the doors open, I burst through them, Grimsal darting close behind with his small translocation puffs of magic. It is fortunate that the lobby is small, though. The moment I step outside, heat ripples over me as the searing pain of the contorting magic sweeps over in wave after violent wave. People come to an abrupt stop on the street. Cars scream as they brake, and several shouts fill my ears as the transformative magic fades. I toss my head and half-rear up as I break away from the humans creeping closer with a look of wonder. I feel the weight of the goblin leaping onto my back and nearly throw him. Only at the last minute do I reconsider and settle back on all four hooves.

I may need the male yet.

Hooves flying, I race down the street. There’s nothing but excitement milling around me, but I ignore it, focusing on getting to my mate. The secret is out, and I no longer care if the whole city knows that a unicorn is among them!

Chapter 8

Steph

Eliph has been on my mind all day while I’ve been at work, which has made it hard to focus on anything. I doubt anyone could blame me. How many people out there are facing the exact same problem? With the arrival of the fae, there have been numerous reports of human-fae pairings, which has caused high tensions with the rise of human purity groups. I never had really strong feelings about human-fae relationships. I didn’t understand the attraction—after all, that’s a huge power imbalance if I ever saw one—and yet the purity movements disgust me. It seems that no matter what, people are just determined to hate.

Now that I have my own would-be fae mate, it’s on my mind a lot more, starting with the protesters I saw when I had to drive through the fae quarter due to a traffic rerouting. As if knowing that’s there isn’t disturbing enough, I hate driving through it. It’s only a matter of time before it becomes as neglected by the city as the inner-city neighborhoods. No one in any position of power cares about the fae who have chosen to settle here. That I actively avoid going anywhere near there makes me feel like a hypocrite, but it is depressing and there’s little I can do outside of voting. I don’t have time for the counterprotests with my schedule, but I donate, at least. All the same, this entire mess is disheartening, and it hits much closer to home as of yesterday thanks to a unicorn barging into my life.

The fact that my situation is temporary doesn’t escape me or make me feel any better. Reasonable or not, I still feel as if there’s some sort of invisible mark on me. That one of those hateful people will take one look at me and know I have a fae mate, unasked for or not. I’ve seen the way they treat women who are mated to fae males. Despite how many human men take up with fae females, it seems like human women get the raw end of the deal when it comes to hatefulness.

It has made me edgy all day. I’ve felt the need to hurry and close with my current client so I can get home, slip into my comfy robe with a mug of hot cocoa, and pretend the world outside doesn’t exist for a bit before I call for Eliph.

Unfortunately, it only took me half a day to see that this client was a lost cause. Not only did I spend an entire day showing one house after another, but in the end, I made the call to transfer him to another realtor. I hate to do it, but there’s no other option. I want to get whatever this is with the unicorn settled so I can get back to normal.

The house is mercifully quiet when I enter. I slip off my shoes and decide to go straight for my first cup of cocoa before I get changed. Chocolate therapy can go a long way, and I feel a real need for it right now. Then maybe a bath.

Harriet is at ballet until late this evening while Tonya is at work, which means that I have the condo all to myself for the next few hours. I love my family, but it’s such a rare treat that I’m practically dancing as I walk into the kitchen and set the kettle on the stove to boil.

Leaning against the counter, I let my head drop back to loosen my neck while thinking about what I still have to do this evening. I need to pay the monthly bills and get autopay set up for the next couple of months—just in case. That’s the most important thing. Then I need to make an out-of-town automatic response note for my business email.

There’s also the premium that needs to be taken care of on my life insurance. Thankfully, I saw to my will some time ago when my sister first moved in with me because I wanted to make sure she would be taken care of in case anything happened. Like my life insurance, Tonya is my sole beneficiary to my will. Right now, I’m glad I had the foresight to do that because there’s no telling what can happen in the fae world. If I don’t come back, she will have my condo and all of my personal belongings, the payment from my insurance, and everything in my bank account. She’ll be all right.

The whistle of the kettle draws me out of my thoughts, and I turn back toward the stove and lift it off the burner. Setting it down on a cool burner, I pull out my favorite mug and scoop out three generous spoonfuls of mix. It’s not as good as melting chocolate on the stove with milk and sugar, but it will get the job done for a quick fix.

Smiling to myself at how Mama, who refused any kind of cocoa that wasn’t properly made, would sneer at the very sight of the tin can of powdery goodness, I pick up the kettle again and angle it over my cup.

Just as the water hits the cup, something between a rustle and a rattle sounds behind me. Adjusting the angle of the kettle to cut off the water, I freeze, my heart thundering in my ears. I hold my breath, my ears straining to hear even as I send up a small prayer that it doesn’t repeat—that it was just all in my head. Must have been my imagination.

I have never hated being so wrong in my life.

Not only does the sound repeat, but it’s louder—so much closer—and is layered. My breath puffs out of me in a panicked pant, an icy tremor running down my back.

Whatever that is… there’s more than one.

Swallowing thickly, I slowly move the kettle back onto the stove and set it down. I don’t know why I’m doing it slowly—perhaps a part of me is desperately hoping that it’s just an animal and that refraining from sudden movements might save my ass.

The cold laughter that sounds from behind me disabuses me of that notion.

Straightening, I turn, my hand still clenched on my mug, and come face to face with my intruders.

Three of what I can only guess to be some sort of fairies, due to their large butterfly wings and elvish features, stare right back at me. Unlike most other fae I’ve seen, these three—two males and a female, from the look of it—are about my size. Their features are narrow and sharp, from the shape of their noses to their high cheekbones, cut jawlines, and pointed chins. Even their bodies are thin and angular. I probably outweigh them, but I suspect they’re deceptively stronger than they appear. Their wings, flat against their bodies and pointed toward the ground in an at-rest position, flutter in little, short snaps in a manner that’s just as aggressive as the hostile gleam in their bright blue and green eyes. They look like half-starved predators, all lean and hungry.

Don’t show any fear, I remind myself as I force my body to relax and prop against the countertop behind me.

“Is there something I can do for you?” I inquire pleasantly. I lift my cup and cock an eyebrow at them. “Would you like some hot cocoa?”

One of the males gives my cup a curious glance but the female beside him slaps his arm and gives him a disgusted look before leveling me with a vicious glare.

There’s nothing soft and cute about her. Her dark red lips are turned down in an angry scowl, and her upper lip curls in a sneer at my cup. Her green eyes are a bright neon acidic color that might as well say ‘warning, toxic as fuck,’ brightened more by the purple smeared around her eyes. I would say that in some ways she could almost pass for some standard of goth… perhaps industrial, with all the heavy copper and silver bands she wears on her getup. Not an inch of iron or steel anywhere on her, though her strategically ripped top, long leather jacket, chunky boots, and oversized black pants are studded with more of the same metal bits.

Honestly, I’m rather impressed with how some of the fae are adapting to human subcultures. I never would have figured a goth fairy, but why not? There was that one satyr with a cowboy fetish that I saw once…

Focus, Steph!

With one hand, she brushes the silky black bobbed hair out of her eyes to glare at me, her dark violet-red wings rattling.

“Okay… I guess that’s a no.”

“We aren’t interested in your foul chocolate,” she hisses impatiently, her voice surprisingly high-pitched for an adult woman.

She sounds almost like a pubescent girl, but there’s really nothing childlike in the demeanor of the female standing in front of me. At least she’s talking… Communication is good. I just need to think of her like a difficult client.

“No chocolate it is,” I agree easily. “Maybe you can tell me what it is you’re looking for and I can help you out. If I don’t have it, I’m sure I can help you with it. There’s no need for any, ah… hostility.”

The male at the opposite end of the trio snorts, his eyes flashing with dark amusement.

“You’ll help us, will you?” he growls, his lips curving in a dangerous smile as his moth-gray wings fan out. “It is smart to be cooperative. Not that it will make much difference in the end, but it will at least minimalize your suffering.”

My smile falls, the charade of a happy human helper falling away. My suffering? Okay, these aren’t some fairies looking to get their kicks out of terrorizing a human. There have been a few of those who have done so in light of their treatment by humans. Usually, it’s nothing more than stealing, maybe a few bruises. For the most part, they seem to just get off on scaring the hell out of people.

Apparently, these fairies are not part of that crowd.

Damn.

Pasting a nonchalant look on my face, I turn just enough to pick up the kettle again and pour the damn water into my cup. I give the hot cocoa a few good whisks with the spoon still in my cup. Fuck it. If they are planning on making me suffer, I’m going to go ahead and tempt fate with the damn cup of cocoa. I don’t take my eyes off of them at all the entire time. Not even when I take a sip. I stare right at them over the rim of my cup. Swallowing, I lower the cup and arch an eyebrow. I should get a damn Academy Award nomination for my performance because internally I want to curl in on myself and beg them to go away and leave me alone.

“So what exactly do you want?” I ask in a cool voice.

His smile widens, showing his sharp fangs. Although Eliph has double fangs too, they don’t inspire the chill that runs through me at the sight of the needle-sharp daggers that the fairy carries around in his mouth. Those things look like they can do some serious damage with minimal effort.

“We want you. We want the unicorn’s mare,” he snarls with his deadly, crooked smile.

Oh, hell no.

“Uh-huh,” I force out. “For what exactly? I don’t get into any kinky shit if that’s what you’re looking for. Now, if you’re looking to invest in some prime real estate, then I am definitely the girl you want. I can hook you up with some bargains in the best part of the fae quarter. Hell, I’ll find you private property outside the quarter and we can just call it square.”

The female pouts for all but two seconds as if pitying the stupid human before she’s grinning again.

“The only good a mare is for is for the magic in her blood,” she purrs. “It is the sweetest elixir. You will come with us without giving us any trouble, and you will be treated well enough. The prince will clothe you and feed you, feast on you—perhaps even inviting his favorites to join him—and it will be the most erotic thing you’ve ever known until he finally drains you and consumes your flesh.”

“That… does not sound like a good time to me,” I mutter. “I don’t think Eliph would like that. Eliph is my mate. He will be very angry that, Eliph of mine,” I intone.

They exchange an indecipherable look, but it’s probably one that means “this human is batshit crazy.” Truthfully, at this moment, that might not be far from the truth because holy shit, I don’t know how I’m not hyperventilating. It would be nice if I were, because I really wish I could just conk out and blissfully ignore what’s coming if Eliph doesn’t hear me like he said he would or doesn’t get here in time. I’m not so naïve as to think I’m going to be able to escape from the three of them on my own. I’m going to become someone’s drink and meat in the near future. Not just someone, a fucking fairy prince.

“Drain me and consume my flesh, huh? Most guys just want their dick sucked,” I joke weakly.

Gods… what is wrong with me? The panic is sending pure nonsense to my mouth with zero filter.

The male in the center—the cocoa aficionado—chuckles and steps closer to me as if he has now determined that I’m completely harmless. I shrink away from him, my fingers curling tighter around my cup.

I know I am—quite literally—dead meat. But since I can’t enjoy the dignity of just passing out, I’m not going to make it easy for them. And nothing makes a bull brave enough to come close than a bit of helplessness.

Cocoa Boy, with pale milky green wings, creeps closer with his girl, their clawed hands reaching for me. The needle-like hooks that slide out of their fingertips is nightmare fuel, but I’m holding my ground while doing the best cower I can manage. At least Badass is staying back and letting his buddies have all the fun. Readying myself, I take my opportunity the moment there’s an opening.

With a bellow that I hope would make Xena the Warrior Princess proud, I hurl the boiling contents of my cup into Cocoa Boy’s face as I bring the mug around and smash it into the nose of the nightshade diva with all of my strength. I allow myself half a second to take pleasure in their screams of pain, but it doesn’t keep me from booking it out of the kitchen with Badass right on my tail. His furious roar sounds like it’s straight from a lion, as the louder rattle-snap of his wings rises around me.

Craning my head around, I nearly come unglued when I see that he’s half-flying after me with bursts from his wings in the confined space of my condo. This motherfucker is gaining—and fast!

Looping around the sofa, I can feel the tears of desperation stinging my eyes.

“Eliph!” I shriek. “Where the fuck are you?”

The collision of the fairy’s body with mine knocks me to the ground. The air bursts out of my lungs, and I can’t even draw enough breath to say anything, much less scream with the terror overwhelming me. The panicked gallop of my heartbeat and the rush of blood in my ears is an unwelcome accompaniment to Badass’s laughter as his claws tear deep into my arm. The wet sluice of blood running down my arm makes my stomach churn, and a violent tremor shakes me when he leans down close to my face and licks the drops of blood from his claws.

His eyes close in ecstasy—and then widen in shock as the front door is blown in.

Turning my head, I catch a glimpse of white hooves before that sweet unconsciousness that I prayed for finally takes hold of me.

“About fucking time,” I whisper, and pass the hell out.

Chapter 9

Eliph

I am nearly to her block when I hear her panicked shout snap through my magic to echo in my mind, and it spurs me on in a mindless race over the remaining distance. I can’t say how fast I am running, but I feel the tightening of Grimsal’s hands in my mane and hear his shouted curse.

Yet even that is filtered through a haze of urgency. The only thing I’m truly aware of is the road beneath my hooves that changes to carpeted halls when I duck inside the building, in the process startling a human who opened the door in an attempt to exit. They gape after me as I charge sure-footed up the stairs.

“Sorry about that!” Grimsal shouts back at them and nearly falls when, upon reaching the landing of the second floor, I swerve to the right and rear up to take out my ahandral’s door.

Lowering my head, I blast the wood with powerful streams of magic against the door, weakening it just before my hooves strike home. The crack of wood tearing apart is more like an explosion as the door bursts inward. I send out a dampening field directly after it to slow the projectiles so the fragments drop to the ground harmlessly just inside. I’m glad I think to do so because my heart nearly stops in my chest when I see my mate within feet of the door, lying helplessly beneath another male.

The fairy’s head jerks up with surprise stamped clearly across his face, his blood-smeared lips gaping wide. It’s satisfying to know that I have taken him by surprise, although it’s not a mystery as to why he was not expecting me to intervene. Truthfully, if not for the goblin, I know that I wouldn’t have arrived in time.

My lips peel back from my wicked teeth, and he pales despite his attempt to snarl at me. The bone-crunching flat teeth at the fore are nothing compared to my long leonine fangs that few, without being on the wrong side of a unicorn, ever realize that we possess for our defense. He might have been spared such a sight if my mate hadn’t been found unconscious beneath him, her blood staining his lips.

With my tail flagged high behind me, I stamp my hooves in high, powerful steps as I approach. I want to make him suffer, and if that means breaking him bit by bit before my horn gores him, then I will happily take it.

Even though my hooves are shredding his gray wings with every strike that misses his torso and limbs, it’s my horn that he stares at as he gives a fearful shriek. Although it hurts my ears, the sound is satisfying. As is knowing that my enemy trembles before me. Electric sparks are flying from the tip of my horn, skittering down its length as I snake out my head and jab with it, and tiny bolts strike the floor, charring the carpet every time he manages to slide out of the way.

I grimace at the damage, not wishing to destroy my mate’s house, but with my overriding concern for her safety, I won’t give him quarter. I advance ceaselessly as he scrambles back toward the kitchen. Ironically, if he had not moved in that direction, I likely wouldn’t have noticed another pair of fairies exiting. They freeze at the sight of me, their wings drawing up around them as they glance down at him and then at me once more. Eyeing her, I lift a hoof and bring it down with a loud crunch on the muscles of the wing extended from the back of the male attempting to crawl away from me. He lets out a scream of agony that makes her bristle, and my muscles stiffen at the resolve that fills the female’s face.

I expect her to attack. Female fairies are aggressively territorial of their males and young, and nature has provided them with their own unique defenses—not the least of which are the venom sacs that female fairies possess—and so I’m not at all surprised when she lets out an angry hiss and expels a stream of venom in my direction. Rearing back to avoid the splatters, I am a bit surprised, however, that she doesn’t take advantage of her opportunity to rescue the male at my hooves. Instead, she grabs the arm of the male beside her and drags him with her as she shoots toward a window.

With a loud growl, Grimsal leaps from my back to intercept them as I continue to restrain the male with my front hooves on his wing, but even with the pop of translocation, the goblin doesn’t manage to arrive at the window before they bolt out of it with a loud crash of glass. He pulls to a stop at the window, staring after them as they wing across the sky lit with the fading early evening light. He rubs the back of his neck and turns back to me helplessly.

“No catching them now. I suspect they will be reporting this incident to whoever sent them. No doubt you’ll have fairies up your ass from here to your grotto.” His eyes fall at the broken-winged fairy moaning in pain as, his wing tearing free in a tattered mess, he attempts once more to crawl away from me. Grimsal jerks his chin toward him. “What are you planning to do with that one?”

I snort disdainfully at the male beneath me and step back a pace to comfortably resume my fae form. It doesn’t give him reprieve for long because I bring my foot down on his other wing, forcing the male to buckle beneath my weight. My eyes cut to the goblin as I give him a cool smile.

“I discover what secrets he has, of course,” I murmur, and I lean forward to drag the fairy up off the floor.

He dangles from my grip, his crystalline blue-green eyes clouded with pain. His only remaining wing twitches uselessly at his side. Given enough time, he can recover. His damaged wing, if not removed, will eventually fall off, and after a few years he will molt and have a new set. I grin savagely at him. De-winged and stranded in the human world is satisfying, although the desire to tear him apart is a hot pulse within my blood that is hard to ignore.

I give him a shake, and his eyes focus on me.

“Who sent you, and why?” I snarl.

His throat works, and a pained, half-wheezed moan hisses from him before he begins to speak.

“It was supposed to be easy… just grab the female and return. A human… How hard can that… be?” he mutters. “Didn’t think you would have help,” he adds, glaring at a grinning Grimsal.

I drop him in disgust and watch dispassionately as he crumples to the floor. Humming a tune to himself, the goblin crouches at his side and tucks a long strand of dark hair behind the male’s ear almost affectionately.

“Goblins are many things—thieves and tricksters to be sure—but most of us don’t condone murder. We don’t abide evil done. So I took it upon myself to bring the news when I caught wind of what was being planned. Now tell me,” he says pleasantly as he rises and steps forward to grind his heel into the damaged nerves of his remaining wing, “which of the fairy lords sent you?”

“He’ll kill me if I tell,” the male hisses.

I tower over him, drawing his attention to me as my shadow falls over him once more. My eyes narrow threateningly.

“If you don’t tell us, I will kill you. There is only one way out and that is by purchasing your life with the information you have,” I rumble with displeasure.

The goblin grinds his foot down harder, shifting his weight in the process and sliding his foot to cover more area to expand the zone of agony. The male screams and fights against him weakly for a few tense moments before pleas tumble from his lips and he nods in agreement.

“Okay. You win,” he mumbles, his head hanging heavily.

“Oh, you’re no fun. We barely got into the torture,” Grimsal complains loudly but as he does so he eases away and smirks down at the fairy as if daring the male to give him a reason to apply even more pain.

“Lord Halathnar, the fifty-sixth prince of the Underhill Kingdom,” the fairy groans quietly. “He wants her to feed from and enjoy her for as long as she’s able to survive it. He sent me and my mate and another male to acquire the female.”

“Oooh, a blood fetishist too, is he? Had plans to fuck and eat and probably do all sort of disgusting things.”

I shoot the goblin a dark look, and he has the grace to look chagrined. I absolutely do not wish to think of my female being used in such a way and for him to even speculate about it makes me want to do violent things to my temporary ally. He coughs and narrows his eyes at the fairy once more, his expression thoughtful.

“Fifty-sixth, huh?” Grimsal says, and his lip curls with disgust. “Damn fairies multiply like maggots in their Underhill courts.”

I shoot the goblin a questioning glance and am grateful when he answers without giving me cause to regret his help.

“The fairies live in a huge underground colony like fucking insects,” he supplied, a grin once more lighting his face. “They call the whole area the Underhill Kingdom, but it is actually several courts, each with their own king and queen. Most of the long-lived races wouldn’t have so many offspring because reproducing at such rates drains our magic and so we are slow to breed… but not fairies.” He rubs thoughtfully at his chin. “That could be why they consume every bit of raw magic they come across. Tell me,” he says, directing his attention back to the fairy. “How large of a brood does fifty-six have?”

The male’s useless wing twitches in the air as his face pinches.

“We can’t control our reproduction anymore,” he grumbles. “Whatever our ancestors did to boost our numbers may work well for the nobles, but it’s a curse for the rest of us. We drop like end-of-season butterflies, barely living even half the time our ancestors or the nobles do, who have access to raw magic.”

Grimsal tsks with sympathy. “Well, until now… I’m sure you enjoyed getting a tasty sip of blood from a unicorn mare.”

A flush climbs up the male’s waxen cheeks, and he reluctantly nods.

“I’ve sired three offspring with Dehandra in the last five decades. She feels it some, but it’s always worse for the males… though it seems she’s picked a new favorite and isn’t inclined to spare me further thought,” he adds bitterly. “I do understand why the nobles lust for the raw magic in the blood, though. The ache in my gut has eased, despite the fact that the rest of me hurts like a bitch.”

With a sympathetic grunt, Grimsal straightens and glances over at me.

“Well? What’s your decision?” he asks. “Mercy? Maiming? Vengeance killing? I’m game for any, but might I suggest that we lay down tarps or newspaper if you go with the latter two. I would hate for this lovely carpet to get all stained,” he muses.

I huff and work to still the fury roaring within me. The goblin’s cheerful humor helps a little to ease it, but I still want to kill the fairy… but I feel an inexplicable pang of sympathy for the male. It would be far easier just to end his life and be done with the entire matter, but I’m feeling unexpectedly generous toward the male, despite his attempt to steal my ahandral.

I lower a finger in front of his nose, and a tremor spreads over my skin as I meet his eyes.

“You will have only one opportunity to correct what you’ve done here today,” I growl, “and I’m half of the mind that it’s more than what you deserve. You will leave here and, on your oath, never return to this city or come near my mate again. If you break your word to me, I will make sure that you die painfully… Do you understand?”

He jerks his head in a pained, hasty manner but I grunt and move away from him. My sole interest now lies with my mate.

“Leave—now,” I snap as I give him my back and make my way over to Steph’s side.

A pained hiss escapes me as I roll her up into my arms and cradle her close to me. My mate is bruised, but at least the trickle of blood has stopped. I run my hands over her, pushing my magic through her skin to encourage her body’s natural healing and ease her pain. Even though her injuries could have been much worse. The thought chills my blood.

Just behind me I’m aware of the goblin hoisting the fairy to his feet, and his ever-cheerful voice asking if the male would like him to take care of that wing. I wince at the scream that follows the male’s assent as the deadened wing is torn free.

Steph’s brow also puckers, her expression tightening for a moment before her eyes open in narrow slits to peer up at me. She sucks in a gasp and then surges up, wrapping her arms around me.

“You’re here…” she mumbles against my shoulder.

I stroke my hand over her curls and nuzzle my nose into the soft, dark mass.

“I’m here,” I assure her.

Chapter 10

Steph

Sitting at the table with a fresh cup of cocoa in one hand, I scrutinize the male sitting across from me. My other hand has a death grip on the throw blanket that Eliph wrapped around me when I started shivering from shock. Although the tremors have subsided, I have no intentions of leaving my blanket cocoon. Honestly, I’m so shaken that I would prefer to climb back into Eliph’s arms right about now. They made me feel safe. It’s an urge I’m trying to ignore, just as I’m also trying to ignore the fact that my living room floor is splattered with blood, which is currently being cleaned by a rather enterprising goblin who introduced himself as Grimsal. And as if that isn’t weird enough, he’s whistling a jaunty tune as he goes about it.

Apparently, fairy blood and powdered pixie wing have a lucrative exchange rate on the fae black market, not unlike their own interest in my blood. Knowing that there are creatures not only trying to drink blood but also selling each other’s body parts—eating fairy wings to boost one’s magic or consuming powdered pixie corpses as aphrodisiacs, as Grimsal tells it—makes me feel queasy. Personally, I’d rather not think of it. As long as it’s off my floor before my sister and niece get home, I’m good without knowing the particulars. What I do want to know more about, however, is why they were after me.

“So about those fairies…” I said, unsure of where to even begin.

Eliph’s jaw hardens at the reminder of my attackers, his amethyst gaze flickering with unspent anger. That he’s still wound up is pretty surprising considering that I got a good look at the fairy before he was hauled off by a pair of goblins. He had been all kinds of messed up. The large bloodstains seeping through his clothes from where the unicorn’s horn made contact were bad enough, but seeing the ruin of his broken wings on the floor had been a clear testimony to the violence of Eliph’s attack. One would think that would be enough, but it’s as if he would like nothing better than to tear the wings off that fairy all over again.

This wrecks my childhood fantasies of unicorns as sweet, peaceful creatures of the woodlands. The childish part of me wants to scowl and throw a fit over it, despite the more reasonable part of me pointing out the fact that real unicorns wouldn’t be as perfect as legend tells it. It makes sense that a horn would be more than just a magical head ornament. After all, most horned creatures use their horns defensively on some occasions, as far as I’m aware. And Eliph has a very long spear of a horn that would be quite handy in taking out a threat.

Even as I recognize that, I can’t seem to quite squelch the protest that rises unbidden within me at the thought of it.

“Fairies,” Eliph sighs after a tense moment. “A problem I had not considered,” he admits. “Unicorns have kept to our own over the last few centuries. I do not think any of us realized just how much the fairy courts had corrupted their own bloodlines. Apparently, it is now at the point that they are dependent on infusing themselves with magic from outside sources.”

“And so they eat you?” I surmise as I try not to gag.

He shakes his head.

“Only a fool would go after a mature unicorn stallion. We are dangerous and notoriously hard to kill. But Grimsal here has informed me that they specifically keep watch for vulnerable, unprotected foals and mares.”

“And they can just get away with it?” I demand.

He meets the outrage in my tone with a megawatt smile, but I just narrow my eyes at him. This is bullshit. How could the unicorns not know and defend themselves if there’s a legitimate threat out there?

“I see you, Ahandral,” he murmurs in a velvety voice that has my heart speeding for entirely other reasons than the very real danger I’m in, “and I understand your frustration. I want to demand answers too, to root out how we could possibly have missed such a dire threat. In the end, however, I know that any lack of knowledge on our part isn’t so much a matter of letting evil go unpunished, but rather a matter of distance.”

I make a skeptical grunt at his observation, but he hastens to explain.

“Whatever you think you know… set it aside, Ahandral. Unicorns are not like the race of men. While we may gather with our kin on the high celebratory days, our species spends much of our time in solitude. We have wide ranges, with little love for leaving our close connections with our wells and forests. Except for young males, who enjoy exploring in pairs or small groups, we are so spread out throughout Lehamenin that word of a stolen foal or mare may never reach others.” He hesitates and gives me a sour look. “It’s likely the grieving male would have no idea of the identity of the culprit, or even that his mare or foal was stolen, if the fairies are as organized as they seem. He would grieve and return to the well, with none the wiser.”

“That’s really sad,” I reply quietly, my heart genuinely aching at the thought.

It’s the worst kind of extermination I could imagine, being hunted out of existence by those who covet all that you have. But I’m not a unicorn, so why me?

“And what does all of this have to do with me?”

His eyes seem to study me.

“Do you recall when I told you that you are my magic-bonded mate—my ahandral?” At my nod, he smiles wanly and continues. “It is more than just an attraction. You carry my essence within you.”

“Your essence?” I repeat. “We haven’t been doing anything to get any bit of you inside of me.”

He chuckles and shakes his head at my denial. “That is not required at this stage. It is the nature of the bond. Just through establishing the initial connection, the male unicorn bonds with his mare and transfers a measure of his magic to her. Enough to make them tempting to a predator. An ahandral, though—a female who bonds directly with the male’s personal magic—she is different. She draws a significant amount of magic into her body. She is more unicorn than human at that moment, and…”

“And therefore, I’m now the blue-plate special,” I groan once clarity strikes.

He inclines his head in agreement, his lips twisting in chagrin.

“So it seems.”

I wearily run a hand over my face. It seems that as long as I possess any of his magic, not only do I threaten his existence but also my own. The sooner I can return his magic and become human again—because I’m so not touching that whole more unicorn than human thing right now—the better it will be for both of us.

“Okay,” I sigh. “What do we do now?”

“We get the pair of you back through the portal tonight, of course,” Grimsal answers as he steps back into the kitchen, his red cap slightly askew at a cocky angle.

His expression shifts into a distant and solemn mien as he brushes back a stray lock of dark hair. “This house is clean,” he intones in a familiar manner that I can’t quite put my finger on. The mood is ruined, however, when he slaps his leg and belts out a loud laugh. “I’ve been wanting to say that for months! I do love human ingenuity with your cinematic tales.”

I stare back at him blankly, which encourages him to groan loudly in disappointment.

“Come on. It is a classic in the human realm… Poltergeist!”

He tsks at my vague sound of recognition.

“Ah,” I reply unenthusiastically, not knowing what else to say.

A goblin with an enthusiasm for horror flicks… Sounds about right for the strange male. I don’t watch them myself, but I have heard of the movie before, even if I wouldn’t recognize any lines from the it.

Apparently, that’s enough to guarantee that we’re friends now because he flashes a flirtatious grin in my direction that makes Eliph stiffen. The unicorn shoots to his feet, his horn pulsing with a faint light, when the goblin drops into the chair at my right. There’s a tense moment as the males stare at each other, but it’s broken at last when Eliph drops back down into his chair and scoots it closer to me in an obviously possessive move. I squash the little butterflies of pleasure that rise unbidden from my belly and keep my eyes fixed on the goblin, certain that even the slightest glance will betray this undeniable interest that I don’t want to be feeling.

Grimsal grins, his eyes slitted merrily as he leans forward to fold his arms on the top of my kitchen table. Aware of Eliph watching his every move, he lifts one hand to scratch at his collar.

Bit by bit, the unicorn begins to gradually thaw in response to the goblin’s relaxed poise and non-threatening position at my side. Intentional or not, it’s clearly putting Eliph at some degree of ease. Not me, though. It just makes me want to thump him a good one.

Blowing out a sigh, my temporary mate directs his attention back to me and sets his own hands on the table in front of us, silently warding away the reach of the goblin.

“Grimsal is right,” he says, his expression sour, as if loath to agree with the grinning menace. “Now that you have recovered from your ordeal, we shouldn’t waste any time. The sooner we leave your home, the sooner I can open a portal. We will be safer there. The magic of Lehamenin should at least mute the presence of our magic to some degree from anyone not directly nearby. This world does not yet have such protections with the magic here having rested far too long.”

“So we’re sitting ducks if we stay here,” I say slowly with a small nod of my head. “Okay, I can deal with that. Just let me tell my sister and niece goodbye and…”

“Do you think that is a good idea?” Eliph interrupts quietly.

“I’m sorry, but what’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying that my family doesn’t deserve to know what’s going on with me? Because if that’s the case…”

“No, you mistake me,” he interrupts. Although he’s quick to appease me, I can see the telltale tightening of his jaw and the tension in his muscles as he looks away and sighs again. “That is not what I mean at all. Rather, it would be a good idea to leave now, while this place is clean of our magic before it starts settling in again. You don’t want the faeries thinking you’re still lingering here. We should put distance between us and them.”

“Okay, well, let me at least write a note,” I reply.

When he nods, I push my chair back and get to my feet, allowing the blanket to drop into the chair behind me. I step away from it without a backward glance, heading straight for my desk. I rifle through the piles of documents I haven’t yet filed in search of an elusive pen.

There are always a dozen pens around here when I don’t need one, but the one time that I do, they say: “Find me.” I’m not even sure how it is that in all these stacks and sheets of paper I can’t manage to find one blank page to scrawl a note on.

Damn it!

“I know I have a scrap of paper and pen here somewhere,” I grumble as I lift a hand just in time to stop a mountain of receipts from crashing down over the space I just cleared.

When I get back, I really should look into hiring an assistant for the bookkeeping. Hunting for a pen shouldn’t be the equivalent of searching for Atlantis.

“Ahandral, we really must hurry…”

“I know, I know. Just one minute…”

My fingers close around a thin metal cylinder beneath the edge of my keyboard, and I lift up my prize with a victorious whoop.

“Okay now for the paper!”

Chapter 11

Steph

I feel guilty as hell just leaving a note and disappearing without saying goodbye, and I know I’ll hear plenty about it when I get back. But I can’t be too mad. Eliph has a sound reason for wanting to leave so soon, and, while I would never admit it, I’m a little relieved there isn’t going to be a long, drawn-out production with my family before our departure.

Instead, I’m perched awkward as hell on my mate’s back—since I never sat on a horse in my life, nor ever possessed the slightest desire to do so—and staring at the ivory horn that’s visible between his pricked ears.

His shoulders move, and his body shifts beneath my thighs as he adjusts his stance. It’s all I can do not to turn my hold on his mane into a painful death grip as anxiety suddenly knifes through me.

Definitely not the time to be learning the ropes of horseback riding.

“Are you okay up there?” Grimsal peers up at me from where he stands at Eliph’s flank, his eyes narrowed with concern.

Eliph stills at the question, and his neck curves as he cranes his head around to look back at me. His nostrils expand and blow out gently against my leg. The touch of his nose doesn’t startle me. No, it’s the warmth of his voice in my mind that makes me jerk with surprise.

Are you well?

It’s so strange hearing a voice in my head that’s not my own that I’m not sure how to respond. I almost forget the question as I debate answering him aloud or looking like a lunatic while carrying out the conversation in my head and feel even weirder.

As it happens, holding a conversation entirely in my head is just a little too much for me. Bad enough to look like I’m talking to myself, but I like the separation of hearing myself reply to his voice in my head. It gives me some measure of normalcy, even if it is small.

That still leaves me with one little problem. When he mentioned carrying me through the portal, I hadn’t imagined he meant like this. And then I figured, “How hard can it be?” when he transformed into his glorious quadruped form. Apparently, it was a lot harder than I had imagined. Not only that, but now that I’m up here, it’s a lot further from the ground than I had figured too.

Who knew that a unicorn would be so damn big?

I’ve always met every challenge without complaint or fear, though. It’s no wonder then that even now I hate to admit to him that sitting on his back, where I can easily fall and break something, has me on the verge of panicking.

Maybe I can just allude to it and he’ll catch my meaning.

“Yeah, I’m good, though I should mention I’ve never done this before,” I reply with a tight smile.

His ear flicks in my direction.

Portal hopping isn’t difficult. It feels strange for a moment, but given that I’m making my own portal we will have the convenience of determining where exactly it opens up in this world, and I guarantee it is perfectly safe.

I blink down at his velvety purple gaze and stifle a nervous laugh. So much for hinting about the problem. Somehow it has just made things worse. I know he’s honestly trying to help, but that he felt I needed a guarantee of my safety isn’t doing anything for my anxiety.

“Uh, not exactly what I meant,” I mutter as I cut an uncomfortable glance to the goblin who’s watching me with undisguised interest. Damn. Seems like I’m destined to have an audience while I come clean. As much as I love unicorns, horses fucking terrify me, and this is too much like my worst nightmare. “I mean I’ve never ridden a horse before,” I hiss. “Horseback riding and horses in general scare the shit out of me, so every time you move, I feel like I’m about to fall to my death.”

Oh. Good thing I’m not a horse, then.

Of course he would say that. I swallow back a groan and shut my eyes as I silently attempt to pray away my budding headache.

“It may not be the same thing to you,” I reply through gritted teeth as I open my eyes again, “but try telling that to the part of me that’s about ready to have a heart attack.”

At my side, Grimsal snickers, but I’m grateful when Eliph silences him by snapping his teeth in the goblin’s direction. Grimsal gives a surprised snarl as he poofs safely out of the way, but that’s followed with a stream of curses and more laughter when he reappears. I curl my lip at him and give him the best “drop dead” look I can muster, but it only seems to make him laugh louder.

I’m really starting to dislike goblins. Apparently, everything is a joke to him.

He holds up his hands in front of him in surrender as he comes closer, his expression apologetic despite the amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Don’t take offense now,” he chuckles. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Certainly, I intended no insult. I just think it’s funny that the daft male has to be told that you’re scared when you’re sitting on him stiff as can be. It can’t be too comfortable for him. Foolish to assume that you are frightened of the portal when you’ve been fine about that until the moment you climbed aboard his back.”

Eliph lowers his head slightly, his ears turning to the side in an expression of dismay.

You are truly afraid?

The disappointment is thick in his voice, and though I may not have wanted a mate, he sounds so sad about it that my heart squeezes in response.

“Not everyone rides, especially when you live in the city. Even if I wasn’t afraid of horses, there’s a slim chance of me having the opportunity to even be around a horse, much less ride one where I grew up.”

He huffs, blowing a hard breath through his nostrils, and my grip on his mane instinctively tightens once more as he shifts his stance again.

A male is to carry his mate when she is unable to assume a fetch form. That is the way it’s always been done to keep our females safe. If I cannot carry you, then we will be more vulnerable to attack, and it will also slow our travel considerably.

Great. One way or the other, I’ll likely be spending much of my time astride his equine form whether I like it or not.

“If you are discussing how to get around this little obstacle, perhaps I can make a suggestion,” Grimsal offers. “I can ride double with you so you feel more secure as we cross. It will also keep us all together as we pass through the portal.”

Huh. I’m not keen on having the goblin huddled up behind me on Eliph’s back, but I have to admit that at least I wouldn’t feel like I’m about to fall off with him there. My “mate,” however, is even less pleased by the offer. His head whips toward the goblin, his entire frame rigid beneath me as his lips pull back from some dangerous chompers that are even more lethal with his fangs visible. Horns, tail, and cloven hooves aside, there’s no mistaking his teeth for those of a horse.

Or the lion-like growl vibrating through him. Definitely not a horse.

“Just while we pass,” the goblin yelps as he dodges a vicious bite when Eliph snakes his head forward. “Once we are on the other side, it will be safe enough for her to walk with us guarding her. She can spend short jaunts riding while she grows accustomed to it.”

Eliph gives a disgruntled snort. His teeth are no longer bared, but his ears are flattened with obvious displeasure and he still looks like he’s contemplating skewering our goblin accomplice. As annoying as Grimsal can be, I can’t have that.

I loosen the fingers of one hand from his mane and stroke his neck gently. The flesh quivers under my touch, and he lifts his head once more in my direction.

“It’s not a bad idea,” I murmur. “I’m going to need some help getting across. There’s no getting around that. After that, it might be easier to acclimate bit by bit like he suggests.”

I do not like it, Eliph grunts unhappily, but if it will make you more comfortable, then I will tolerate his suggestion.

“Well, it’s not like you can hold me on your back without help, so I do appreciate the concession,” I reply, my lips twitching at Eliph’s disgusted snort.

It seems that my unicorn mate, despite not choosing me himself, is a mite possessive. All things considered, it’s wrong that I feel flattered by it. This may or may not be fate, and he’s too damn pretty for me to wholly trust yet… but it’s nice to have someone feel territorial about me. I’m going with it because I might as well get some pleasure out of this experience for however long it lasts.

I appreciate your understanding nature regarding my sufferance of that male, Eliph retorts wryly. Speaking of the goblin… Tell Grimsal to mount then and hurry about it.

“He says hurry up and get up here,” I relay and smirk a little at Grimsal’s cautious approach.

The goblin eyes the unicorn, probably because Eliph is watching him like a hawk. Once he notices that my mate isn’t about to lunge for him again now that he’s in biting range, he relaxes considerably and swings up behind me.

Eliph twitches at the added weight from the goblin but doesn’t otherwise react other than turning an ear toward us when Grimsal slides his arms around my waist.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” I whisper back at him. “There won’t be any repeat double riding after this if I can help it.”

“You wound me,” he sighs into my ear. “I guess I will just enjoy this little experience while I can. You are certainly a delight to hold onto—oof!” He wheezes as my elbow makes sharp contact with his gut. “Damn me, you are a mean thing,” he gasps with a chuckle.

“Behave, or I’ll show you just how mean I can be,” I retort. “And make sure you keep those arms exactly where they are. There better not be any wandering hands going on.”

Eliph huffs in agreement, tossing a dark look back at my co-rider before turning his beautiful purple eyes to me.

Well done, Ahandral, he praises, sending another warm burst shooting through me. And do not worry. This will be quick and done before you know it. Once I have the portal open, be prepared to brace yourself and hold tightly to me.

“No need to worry there,” I mutter. “I’ll probably be holding on to you so tight that I’ll pull some hairs with me when I finally let go.”

His laughter fills my mind as his warm muzzle brushes my leg.

That is acceptable.

“What is he saying?” Grimsal asks as Eliph takes a small prancing step, the goblin’s arms tightening around me perceptibly. “Hopefully nothing about skewering a goblin when we get to the other side. I swear upon my mother’s cauldron that I’ll behave!”

I chuckle at his worried tone, my heart warming unexpectedly at Eliph’s laughter joining me in my head.

“Nothing like that unless you don’t hold onto me tight,” I shoot back. “I’m going to hold on to him, and you’re supposed to keep me on his back as we pass through—that’s all. Although I can’t make any promises if you lose me or something while we’re moving through the portal.” The male’s left arm tightens further in response as his right reaches past me so he too can grab a huge handful of Eliph’s mane.

It’s just shy of making it difficult to breathe, but I feel secure at least—as long as he doesn’t tighten his hold on me any further.

Just in case, I give his wrist a pat. “That’s tight enough.”

It loosens just a smidge so I can get a little more air, and I turn back to glance at him as he nods, his lips pressed tightly together.

“All right. I’m ready then,” he announces with only a hint of unease in his voice.

“You heard him, Eliph. That makes two of us. Let’s get this over with already,” I say even as my legs tighten around his barrel, just barely keeping myself from screwing my eyes shut as well.

Whatever happens, I want to see it and face it head on. Even if that’s being sucked through the worlds. I will be doing this shit with my eyes wide open.

I feel his sides expand as he breathes in deep. His head lowers, his neck stretching out in front of him. A pearly color tints his fur, and a mute glow slides up his horn. The glow is so pretty that for a moment I’m captivated, my eyes widening as it gradually grows brighter until I’m forced to squint against its brilliance. I jump, however, when electricity starts sparking from the tip, and I’m grateful for the strong arm banded around my waist that’s keeping me seated.

Bolts of lightning dance before him, their frequency increasing as every spark of energy in the atmosphere attempts to gather at the tip of his horn. I cringe, anticipating the concussion that’s sure to eventually come.

The explosion of light is deafening. There’s nothing that could have prepared me for it. Not only does it white out all sound, but it surrounds us with such a blinding flare that everything around me is consumed in that light. I wouldn’t even know that we’re moving into it if it weren’t for the feel of Eliph’s muscles bunching as he leaps forward, and immediately that white light blinks out, replaced by a suffocating void of darkness.

A scream lodges in my throat as we seem to float through space itself. All around me, I can make out tiny specks of light like thousands of stars. It’s beautiful, but I feel like I can’t breathe. Not even the gossamer wings that now suddenly extend from Eliph’s sides as he propels himself through the void can detract from the terror rising within me. My back arches, and my hands leave his mane to clutch at my throat as I desperately attempt to draw in air. Only Grimsal’s arm anchors me, and even then I can feel my mind spiraling into darkness until another blinding flash of light expels us into a sunlit world.

I drag in a grateful breath before I collapse against the male behind me, my eyes closing as unconsciousness washes over me.

Chapter 12

Eliph

I stand stiff-legged, remaining steady as Grimsal eases my mate off my back. It is difficult for me since I want nothing more than to hold her in my own arms, but there’s nothing I can do but wait patiently until he has her safely on the ground. I crane my neck around so that I can anxiously watch over her as he lowers her carefully into the grass. I try not to move and risk jostling her. Only my tail twitches anxiously, whipping lightly from side to side.

My breath catches in my throat, and I cannot breathe as I stare at her. Her head hangs. Her face, ashen and drawn, drops away from me. Unreasonably, I fear that she will never wake. I am afraid that I will never hear her scold me again or see her eyes heat with temper, warm with affection, or dance with laughter. It terrifies me more than anything in all the centuries of my existence has ever frightened me.

The moment she is safe, I shift back to my fae form, dropping to crouch at her side. My hands are trembling as I run them over her face and arms, reassuring myself that she’s fine and whole. Her panic in the void between portals had nearly overwhelmed me, despite my attempt to shoulder as much of her terror as possible. My inability to take on the burden entirely, forcing me to witness my mate’s descent into her own mind, far away from me, had nearly broken something within me.

Drawing her up into my arms, I press my lips against her forehead, silently begging her to wake up and look up at me with her beautiful dark eyes.

She doesn’t wake, though.

Instead of warm with her usual life and vitality, her skin is cool to touch. She feels so remote from me. I want to weep and rage at how limp she rests in my arms. This never should have happened to her! She should have been able to accompany me between worlds without complication like any other mare. My mate ceases to make sense to me. She is even afraid to mount me. Never have I heard of such a thing.

But it does not matter. She is mine, and I will never allow this again if I can help it! I will do everything in my power to woo and win her so that never again will I be forced to allow her to endure the portal.

A hand clamps on my shoulder, dragging my attention from my mate and I meet the goblin’s green eyes. For once, he is not smiling or laughing. Instead, he squeezes my shoulder knowingly.

“She’ll be all right,” he says gruffly, glancing down at her with a certain fondness in his eyes that would have made me defensive if not for the anguish consuming me. “Never heard of a human making it through a portal conscious before, actually. She held out better than I expected.”

I stiffen, my arms tightening around my mate to keep for lunging out to throttle to the male. She looks so vulnerable right now that it physically hurts me to know that I am a part of the reason that she is now like this. But mostly I burn with an intense anger toward the goblin.

“You knew?” I spit angrily. “You knew that it would affect her like that and did not warn us?”

If I had known, I would have hunted down one of the elvish portals and damned all the consequences.

Grimsal drops his hand only to bring it up to rub along his chin thoughtfully. “Not exactly. I had no way of knowing how it would affect her if she was awake through it. To my understanding, most humans pass out the moment they hit the void. Their minds are unable to deal with the nothingness and so they slip into shock. It doesn’t hurt them. Instead, it’s pretty peaceful. It even happens occasionally with the elvish portals, from what I hear. Theirs are a bit easier on the mind in most cases though, since they’re created in a way that makes a sort of artificial tunnel between the worlds. It is why so many of the fae species travel through them without suffering ill effects. I swear to you, your mate should have just slept the entire time. She must either have a very strong mind, or it has something to do with the unicorn magic inside of her. Likely a bit of both, if you ask my opinion,” he adds with a weak smile.

I snort and brush back my mate’s thick curls lovingly.

“My anhandral is quite strong,” I agree. “No doubt she will be an exceptionally powerful mare once we truly mate.”

“If you mate, you mean,” Grimsal reminds me, but wisely goes quiet when I shoot him a displeased glare.

“It will happen… eventually,” I amend, my heart constricting anxiously despite the hope that swells within it. “My Steph will see that I am a worthy male to call her own.”

“Hmm… Unicorn society really has its interesting checks and balances,” the goblin chuckles. “You are known far and wide for stealing females from their doting families, and yet in the end you’re completely at the mercy of your females. How positively delightful!”

“I am so glad you find it entertaining to see how our survival hinges on the acceptance of our mates,” I mutter dryly.

Grimsal snorts in amusement.

“And why wouldn’t I? Males and females all over the fae world use stories of unicorns to frighten their daughters into obeying, as if once you got your horn on them—so to speak,” he adds with a merry chuckle, “that their life is now yours. Knowing that you must seduce and earn your female’s favor is a delicious detail that really ought to be common knowledge.”

Easing my female against me to make her more comfortable when I scoop her up into my arms, I glare at my unwanted companion.

“Why is that? So they can encourage their daughters to stubbornly wait us out rather than give us a chance to prove our value as males and mates? Even if it assuages the fear of unicorns living in their lands, it wouldn’t do my kind any good,” I mutter. “If anything, more of us would perish. It is a necessary part of our survival.”

“I see,” Grimsal drawls thoughtfully. “Should I take this to mean that you’ve tricked her into compliance?”

I wince at the censure in his voice but give him my most fierce glare.

“Not entirely. I may have concealed and twisted certain facts to get her here and give me the opportunity to win her, but I would do nothing to harm her—not even take away her choice.”

The goblin cocks his head at me, but I turn away and stand, lifting my mate up from the ground as I straighten. I am not interested in being further analyzed by the male or have my motives questioned.

All that matters now is her.

Shifting her weight in my arms, I scan my surroundings silently and bite back a curse. I do not recognize anything.

Grimsal brushes himself off and meanders away, his bright eyes taking in trees and the rise of the tall mountains in the distance. He stares at those peaks for several seconds before his eyes slide over to me questioningly.

“So… where are we?”

“I have no idea,” I bite out. “Those may be the Karathal Mountains, which would mean we are south of my territory.”

The goblin squints up at the sun that is just beginning to rise and sighs.

“South… Yeah, that would make sense, wouldn’t it? It is already warming up. It’ll probably be as hot as sitting bare-assed on a fire wyvern’s backside by midday.”

“I imagine you would know a lot about that,” I mutter.

I don’t hear his reply because I take one more surreptitious look around and pick a direction before I stride away. Although there is no particular urgency to depart right at that moment, I want to get my female somewhere comfortable indoors where she can rest for the night if possible. There’s no point in just standing in place waiting for something else to find us.

As I walk quickly among the towering trees, I half-hope the goblin—despite his helpfulness—will take the hint and go away. It’s not that I do not appreciate his assistance, it is more that the male annoys me beyond all reason. That my mate has smiled at him doesn’t sweeten my stance at all. I want all her smiles for myself until the day I win her. Then she may give out a few with my blessing… Though not too many. It would be wrong for any other males to get ideas and try to infringe on our mating.

Not all species pair bond, and the idea of another male trying to horn in and join our family makes me practically vibrate with hostility. My breeding “horn” will be the only one in this family, and I will skewer any male who even sniffs at my mate with interest.

I jerk back as a cloud of dark dust pops through the air at my side but don’t break my stride, forcing the goblin into a trot to keep up.

“Damn your unnaturally long legs… Wait up, pony boy!” he shouts.

I immediately stop, the impact of the goblin colliding with me barely even registering. Slowly, I turn and glance down at him, my eyes narrowing with irritation.

“What… did you call me?”

Although the impact has forced him to stumble back a pace or two, he recovers quickly, straightening his clothes as he meets my glare. A snide smile curls his lips.

“Pony boy is actually a pretty tame moniker. If you object, I could come up with another nickname, but I can’t guarantee you will like it any better,” he snickers.

“Why?” I growl in irritation. “Why do you continue to follow me? What have I done to be cursed by your presence?”

The male screws up his face as if he has grounds to be offended.

“Seems to me that you should be grateful that I’m around. I don’t dispute that you could probably have handled the faeries easily by yourself, but how else would you have gotten your female safely here, since she wasn’t limply clinging to you like most others do? Oh, yes, I’ve seen enough of them myself to know the look as well as you do,” he taunts. “Just as I know that your ahandral’s reaction to you is not only a demonstration of a very flawed bond, but one that is extremely dangerous for her.”

A hot flush crawls up my neck because I can’t deny his observation. My mate’s own freedom from that cursed power of my species may save her in one way, but it leaves her vulnerable in another. I am worried that there may be other problems that I’m not even aware of that will materialize thanks to her resistance to my magic.

“And I thank you for that assistance,” I growl stiffly. “My mate’s indifference to the suggestive power of my magic seemed to have an unexpected drawback, but her strength and self-control do not make our bond flawed.”

Grimsal eyes narrow speculatively at me for a moment before widening in surprise.

“You like that she resists you!”

I stare at a distant cluster of vine-laden trees and sigh.

“I adore my female, but I like that she knows her own mind and is coming with me because she wants to, even if because of a small trick on my part. I am not carrying her off unwillingly.” I glare at a flower that sways in the breeze as if I could obliterate it from where I stand by the power of my frustration alone. “I find that the idea of her laying over my withers, completely lax under the influence of my magic, to be a disturbing one,” I admit.

A hard hand slaps my back, jarring me enough that my head snaps around, and I find myself looking at a broadly smiling face.

“And that there is exactly why I’ve now decided to hang around and help you out. Before, I was more concerned for the female… but now, I rather like you!”

“I’m not looking to add males to our family.” I growl defensively.

“Good, because you are not my type and frankly…I don’t share,” the goblin chuckles. “But as I am currently an unattached male, you have my undivided attention until we get her safely to your grove.”

I groan. That means he will be hanging around for days—maybe even weeks.

“Is it too late to recant?” I ask hopefully.

He waggles a thick, green finger at me, his smile widening.

“Nice try! Hold tight a moment and I will pop ahead a bit. This looks like it might be a trail cutting through here, which means we may get lucky enough to come across a tavern for travelers through these woods, or perhaps even a village,” he says distractedly as he glances along the forest floor with interest.

I don’t really see any kind of path that he speaks of. Natural game trails are common, but nothing jumps out at me as being intelligently made. I do, however, lean forward and whisper a sleeping spell over my mate. Although she is still unconscious, I know that the state is not a restful one. Encouraging her to sleep is a kindness, as is waiting to awaken her someplace comfortable and warm after everything she has recently endured.

Thankfully, Grimsal returns a short time later with news of a traveler’s inn and tavern nestled in the woods a couple hours away. Although I’m tempted to shorten our travel time by assuming my fetch form, I don’t wish to relinquish my mate to the goblin despite his claims of disinterest. Not only that, but if the worst should happen and Steph awakens, I don’t wish for her to be frightened waking astride my back as I race through the trees.

No. This may be the longer way of doing things, but I won’t take any chances. In any case, I will take the opportunity to enjoy holding my mate in my arms while I have her.

Chapter 13

Steph

At first, I’m pretty sure it’s all just a bad dream. I feel warm, and the comforting feeling of a thick quilt wrapped around me makes me want to drift back to sleep and forget all the strange dreams I’ve been having of unicorns and mates fated by magic. I snort a soft laugh into the blanket and burrow deeper as I inhale the odd, exotic floral scent of the bedding.

I don’t recall anything I own smelling like this. Not even my fabric softener.

I frown into the blanket and draw in another deep breath, trying to identify the scent. Perhaps Harriet came into my room at some point during the day and spilled something on my bed. The glow of the light on the other side of my eyelids, however, shifts too much to be my bedroom light. I… don’t think I’m home.

That realization makes me want to hide beneath the bedding. Whatever it is that I want to hide from, I can’t quite recall in my foggy state, but I’m pretty sure it’s not something good.

“I think she’s waking up,” a soft voice whispers and the light dances a bit more, veering sharply to the side.

A heavy sigh expels from someone just above my head, and I feel a pair of strong arms tighten gently around me.

“Good,” a familiar man’s voice murmurs. It’s beautiful and rich and makes me want to snuggle right into whoever is holding me. “I was worried that the void was too much for her,” he continues.

The moment those words leave his mouth, I feel as if a vice closes around my throat. I strangle, a soft hiss of distress escaping me as the memory of that terrible, unending star-filled darkness fills my mind, and for a moment I’m convinced that I am still there. My eyes snap open, and I stare out ahead without seeing anything but an indistinct blur as I claw at my throat with one hand.

A large, warm hand cups mine and pulls it down to my chest where he flattens it against my racing heart.

“Easy, Ahandral. Feel your heart. You are well. Feel the air on your skin, you are no longer in that place. You can breathe, you can see, and you can hear and speak again. Nothing will harm you, I swear it,” he whispers.

“Eliph,” I croak as recognition fills me.

A choked cry ekes out, and I turn my face in against his chest as tremors rack my body. He holds me there against him just as he did after the faeries attacked, leaving me just as much of a mess as I feel now.

Fuck. I refuse to keep falling apart in front of him!

Dragging in a shaky breath, I push away and look up to meet his worried purple eyes. Biting my lip so that it won’t visibly tremble, I give him a strained smile.

“I guess it was too much to hope that these last couple of days were just a dream,” I joke pitifully.

The smile that touches his lips is brief and doesn’t reach his eyes, but he runs a hand over my curls as if he can’t stop touching me. I’m not sure how much of that is me projecting, but there’s a definite gentleness in the way he’s touching me that I’m in no hurry to stop. This is no attempt to get into my pants or get something from me. There’s nothing but honest appreciation and something dangerously close to what looks like affection as he caresses me.

“I wish I could take every memory of the void from you so that it is nothing more than a faint recollection of a dream,” he admits softly.

I draw back slightly, my eyebrows beetling. I’m not exactly eager to have anyone messing around in my head.

“Can you do that?” I ask.

For a moment, he appears as if he’s not going to reply but, at last, he yields and shakes his head solemnly.

“No. I can make you sleep—I can even take some memories away entirely if you wish it—but there is little influence I have over your mind,” he admits. “Such things have limits for most of my kind.”

“As if that’s not enough,” I retort and push myself up into a seated position.

…And notice that we still have company.

An extremely pale female with black eyes and pin-straight black hair stares at me curiously from where she sits a short distance away, across from Eliph. I connect the dots as to this person’s identity—she’s the one who was speaking when I woke up. This is confirmed by the lantern that she holds in her hands. It was no doubt the source of light that had been flickering on the other side of my eyelids when she leaned in close. I feel a bit like a bug under a microscope with the quiet way she regards me, but when she looks away to give Eliph an infatuated smile…

I grind my teeth at that adoring look. He’s supposed to be my mate! I mean, yeah, it is only temporary… but I sure as hell am not moving aside for a fae woman. She can just wait until this shit is done with, because it will be a cold day in hell before I allow another woman to move in on what’s currently mine.

I never took myself for the possessive type, but I’m willing to make allowances for the fact that shit changes. This temptress best step back and watch herself.

To my surprise, the unicorn eases away, his ears flattening against his head as he shies back from her. If anything, he seems to be tucking himself behind me as he mutters little one-line responses as if desperately hoping that she’ll go away and leave him alone.

It’s strange that this tall, strong fae male needs saving, but hey, I’m up to the job now that I’m awake. In fact, with all the bizarre things that have happened lately that have threatened my confidence, having him look to me to defend him against a persistent female… well, I’ve dealt enough with catty women looking to one-up me to feel in familiar territory. My lips curling into a merciless smile, I cross my arms over my chest and pin the female with a hard look.

“I’m sorry, but who exactly are you, and why do you think it’s okay to make eyes at a male who is with me? I don’t believe you know either of us well enough for any kind of familiarity, so step off.”

Frowning unhappily, the female’s head whips in my direction with an audible hiss. I blink at her in surprise, taking in the abnormally long fangs as she sets down her lamp and straightens, rising higher than any body ought to. In fact, instead of a lower body, her torso disappears into a long, thick snake’s tail. She spits furiously at me, and I stare back at her, wondering how deep I’ve put my foot in it.

I’m not sure if she’s just irritated or wants to genuinely tear me apart, but regardless I’m mentally girding myself to fight however dirty I have to when the door slams open. It’s loud enough to draw every eye in the room, and when I see who it is a relieved laugh escapes me. Never have I wanted to kiss anyone more than I want to kiss that damn goblin waltzing into the room.

He takes one look at me and Eliph, and then over at the snake woman—dragon lady?—I’m not sure what the correct terminology would be actually… and then he grins as if our standoff is the most natural and wonderful thing in the world.

“Splendid! Looks like we’re all busy making friends here,” he says brightly. He raises a thick eyebrow at me in particular, his smile widening. “I can’t say that I would advocate making friends with a naga quite this way, but I admire your pluck. Not many fae—much less humans—would go toe to toe with a being that would make a snack out of them before entertaining a cordial thought. Bravo! If you females are determined to fight it out first, I can perhaps suggest a few scenarios that might be entertaining.”

I stare at him, uncertain of just how serious of a situation I’m in and whether or not I can sacrifice the goblin to the naga in my place, when a loud sigh draws my attention to back to the naga female. She gives the goblin a disgusted look, her eyes rolling as she lowers back onto her coils.

“As if my purpose here is to serve as your entertainment, beast,” she hissed haughtily.

My eyebrows fly up because the snake lady has a huge fucking attitude. Normally, I would applaud it, but she’s looking at me as if I’m something she would rather scrape off her boots—provided she had boots or feet. The only one she isn’t looking at with complete disdain is my unicorn.

“I told you to back off,” I growl, reiterating my position before she gets it into her mind to attempt to cozy up again to him.

Eliph’s arms circle around me, drawing me against him and his entirely unsubtle erection brushing against my ass. I admit that my mind swerves right into the gutter, and I get so thoroughly distracted that it takes me a moment to remember that there is a spitting-mad female in front of me.

“Do not worry, Ahandral. My eyes and horn are only for you,” he whispers into my ear, his breath fanning my skin erotically.

I wonder if “horn” was an innuendo for something more than that pearly bone jutting out of his forehead, because the other horn is giving me ideas that makes it all too easy to forget what we are doing here. I open my mouth to ask when he rolls his hips, and I let out an undignified squeak of surprise as my insides are bathed in a hot wave of arousal.

Well, damn.

The naga also gets the message loud and clear if I’m to judge by the pout she gives Eliph before settling back and picking up her lamp once more.

“Unicorns and their ahandrals,” she sighs remorsefully. “How disappointing.”

She looks meaningfully at me as she finishes speaking, her lip curling in a superior way that’s just begging for a fight. I might have attempted a swing if Eliph’s arms didn’t tighten in warning, reminding me that I probably don’t want to piss off the naga…or the being who likely owns the little establishment in which we’re currently taking shelter.

For the first time, I glance around at the wooden interior of our surroundings. It is worn but clean, and the bed that Eliph and I are on dominates one side of the room entirely. It’s designed for very large species…How large, I couldn’t even guess.

“The ahandral bond is very powerful indeed,” Eliph agrees softly, clearly attempting to soothe ruffled feathers, whereas I don’t care if the bitch chokes on them. “I thank you for graciously permitting to shelter us within your establishment.”

“If things were different, I wouldn’t have minded having a taste of you.” She sighs as she gives a regal—and rather snooty, if you ask my opinion—nod.

Over my dead body would she have gotten a taste of anything, ahandral bond or not. I don’t say so, but thankfully Grimsal is all too happy to take up the mantle of naga baiter because he grins and gestures to his pelvis, which is surprisingly not unimpressive as he sways his hips in a suggestive circle. I slap my hand over my eyes because I definitely do not want to see that. I’m more than happy that Eliph takes that opportunity to hug me against him with a soft chuckle as we leave Grimsal to do his thing.

“You know, if you’re in the market for some company, I am very available,” the goblin announces suggestively. “Not to brag, but I’ve had females from five territories weep over my cock and my skill with it. I can give you a memorable night.”

I choke on the laughter that bubbles up at his shameless self-endorsement. One that is in no shape or form appreciated by the resident naga princess. The hiss that escapes her is furious as she side-winds away, her hair rising around her as if supported by an invisible hood, or like the fibers acted in an identical manner.

“I wouldn’t touch you to spit on you, goblin. How dare you insult me by even suggesting that I might consider you a viable option,” she retorts venomously. “For the sake of the unicorn, I will allow you to take refuge in my inn tonight, but I expect you all to be gone in the morning. I have no interest in entertaining lesser creatures on my premises.”

She gives Grimsal and me one last sneer before she slips out of the room and firmly closes the door behind her. I’m not sorry to see her go even if the light is considerably dimmer without her lantern. Thankfully, the goblin heads directly over to the fireplace and stirs up the fire a bit more. It doesn’t do much to help the lighting, but after a few minutes it does start to feel warmer and a bit more comfortable.

A yawn makes my jaws crack, and even though I’ve just woken up, I can feel the seductive call of sleep already. I guess it’s true what they say about not really resting when you’re unconscious. I don’t want to sleep until I have some answers, though. I really want to know where I am and who that female was. I eye both males curiously.

“So…where are we? And what’s with the snake princess?”

Grimsal chuckles as he pokes the fire a bit more, but that doesn’t stop him from slanting a mischievous grin at Eliph. The unicorn bears it gracefully enough, though if looks could kill, Grimsal would be dead several times over by now.

“We are in a traveler’s inn near a river that bisects the forest my portal dropped us into. As for the naga, well, she wasn’t inclined to offer us sanctuary,” Eliph explained only to be interrupted by Grimsal’s bellowing laughter.

“What he means to say is that she took one look at us and turned us away like we were diseased. Nagas live deep in the southern forests of Angita. They are very exotic, beautiful, and apparently have no use for species that they consider inferior,” he chuckles. “If not for our unicorn here, we would have had the door slammed in our face. I have to hand it to her—she tried her damnedest to talk him into leaving us outside. I don’t think she really believed that you are his ahandral until the very last,” he adds thoughtfully. “It’s a shame I stepped out and missed half the show. You are turning out to be a very entertaining human.”

“Thanks, I think,” I mutter as I snuggle closer against Eliph.

He’s wonderfully warm. He really would make a wonderful snuggle buddy on a cold night if it was at possible to ignore that surge of desire in my belly or the tingle of interest between my legs. One thing is for sure: this world isn’t any warmer at night than it is at home. I turn my face into his arm and yawn again.

“Fuck, I’m tired,” I sigh around another jaw-cracking yawn.

“You’ve been sleeping off and on for most of the day. It takes a little time to recover,” my mate murmurs softly. “Just sleep and you will feel better in the morning when we head out.”

“Okay, that sounds good. How far away are we, anyway?” I mumble.

“A great many days to the southeast by my estimation,” Eliph replies as he strokes my hair.

It feels so good that I melt against him. Usually, I hate when people touch my hair without permission as if they have a right to do so, but with him, I don’t mind so much. I don’t even care that my carefully styled curls are getting mussed as his magic fingers get to work. Regardless, I’m pretty much resigning myself to having wild curls going every which way no matter what I do, so I might as well enjoy it.

I nuzzle my cheek against his palm and settle against him.

“Don’t worry,” Grimsal pipes up. “I will be around to make sure these next several days are eventful. Traveling is always an adventure with a red cap goblin in your company!”

“Oh joy,” I mutter and smile, and I feel Eliph’s chest vibrate with laughter beneath me as he hugs me to him.

I suppose if there were perks to this mating thing, this would be one of them, I admit to myself drowsily.

Chapter 14

Eliph

Having my mate at my side while the naga shamelessly attempted to seduce me in front of her strains my patience nearly to the breaking point. Although attracting females is an integral part of the unicorn’s nature, the more I’m around other unmated females, the more I dislike it...especially now. Never have I more loathed being a unicorn than I do when I seem unable to escape a persistent female’s interest. With my ahandral in my arms, it is even more disconcerting, making my tail twitch with an edgy nervousness. Worse, with my mate’s fear of riding and the need to adjust her to it gradually, this will not be an isolated incident.

I feel cursed right at this moment. I would give anything to be like so many other males in the world and be able to sweep my female into my arms and court her in any lengthy manner which she deserves. Without worrying about strange females trying to snare my attention.

No wonder so many of my species remain within their grottos. It is also clear why our mated males prefer to trade with often ill-tempered elves. Female elves have a natural resistance to unicorn magic. Sanctuary in an elven forest would certainly be preferable right now to staying overnight in a naga’s inn.

Truthfully, it is tempting to stay away from inhabited areas altogether to avoid further irritations, but I won’t sacrifice my mate’s comfort for mine. Not that she looked any happier with the naga’s behavior. If it weren’t for the goblin stepping in and deterring the female with his overt interest, I don’t know what I would have done. Every protest fell on deaf ears, and my temper had been fraying. The only thing that kept me from being hostile toward her advances was the fact that I desired for my ahandral to have a warm, comfortable place to rest after her ordeal with the void.

Sliding the lock into place, Grimsal smirks as he drops into a nearby chair. He taps his upper lip with his finger contemplatively, cocking his head.

“You know, that worked quicker than I expected. I am now half-wondering if I shouldn’t feel slighted at how fast she fled. Do you think I ought to give chase…? She may be expecting a bit more of an effort…”

I stare at him in horror and am about to open my mouth to tell him to do no such thing when Steph rouses enough to start laughing. She wipes at her cheeks with one hand while she continues to laugh and shake her head.

“No, no, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she chortles. “Unless you’re into pain and debasement… Then please do. Here I thought she looked horrified over Eliph hooking up with the likes of me. That was nothing compared to the way she looked at you, following your offered… uh, services.”

I tighten my arms around her, offended all over again about the way the naga treated my mate.

“There is no other female like you,” I retort fiercely, holding her closer against my chest. “Which is unfortunate for other males out there because you are a most wonderful female. No male would be luckier than one who wins your affection and trust.”

Surprise flickers in the dark eyes that turn toward me, but I’m being nothing less than truthful. As far as I’m concerned, she is a superior mate, one that any male would be honored to have. I don’t know what the naga sees, but when I look at her, I see a female who is compassionate as well as strong and forthright. A female unafraid to speak her mind, and a female with a lot of love to give to the right male that she trusts with all her heart. I look forward to learning more about her, to see what makes her eyes burn with fury and what makes her smile. I want to see every expression, to know her in ways that no other has. I want to see that which she normally keeps hidden—and I worry I will not have enough time to experience even a fraction of that.

My ahandral yawns again and settles back against me with a begrudging smile, as if she is pleased but uncertain of just how much to believe. That’s okay. I know that she is not quick to trust, but that will make winning her all the sweeter. I will prove myself. Right now, I will content myself with how right she feels in my arms. She fits against me perfectly.

“You sure do talk a good game,” she mumbles sleepily.

I press my lips to the top of her head, enjoying the way her thick curls tickle my face.

“It is nothing less than the truth. That another doesn’t see your value as clearly as I do is her shortcoming, not yours. I am truly honored that it is you my magic bound me to. Of all the females in the world, whatever time I have with you at my side will be treasured.”

She stills within my arms and then turns just enough to gaze up at me suspiciously. My heart hurts for her that she has learned not to trust words of affection and adoration from a male when spoken in earnest.

But perhaps it is for the best that she is cautious. I don’t think any other females would have been able to evade fairies the way my crafty mate did until I was able to arrive. It will also make it harder for another fae male to lure her away.

She squints at me as if she is about castigate me, but instead heaves a sigh and curls up against me once more. Her cheek flattens against my chest so that her ear rests right over my heart. She mumbles something I can’t make out because I am in awe of the way her heart begins to regulate its beats to match my own. She might be struggling with being my mate, but it is her mind having difficulty with the matter more than her body. On a primal level, she recognizes me as hers and seeks such a closeness that our hearts may become one as I hold her.

I am quite happy with her there and snuggle her close, not even bothering to hold back the delighted smile as my mate drops off to sleep in my embrace. I can feel the goblin’s eyes on me, though, and that is enough to disrupt the peace I am enjoying.

Reluctantly—and with no little annoyance—I lift my gaze, meeting his eyes. They spark with mischief and humor as he leans forward, elbows propped lazily on his knees.

“Interesting effect you unicorns have on females,” he observes casually.

“A damned nuisance,” I correct with a resentful mutter. “It attracts every female who you have no intention of claiming, and once you are mated, it continues to draw them like bees to honey. I found it annoying to certain degrees before I even met Steph, but now it is intolerable. They seek to seduce me and touch me when all I want is to be alone with my ahandral.”

He hums thoughtfully, a small measure of disbelief coloring his expression. “It doesn’t sound like a great hardship. I doubt most males would consider it a terrible burden. Wouldn’t you say that it is flattering to have that attention?”

“Then those males are fools,” I retort. “There is plenty else out there that is enjoyable, if I need that particular desire fulfilled then it is best received from one’s own mate.” I glance down at her longingly. “I would give anything for her to look at me with such need. I yearn for that from her and no one else.”

Grimsal leans further, his eyes widening. “Don’t tell me that you are a virgin!”

I frown at him, my lips thinning with displeasure.

“A unicorn searches all his life for a suitable mate. If we dallied with females we encountered casually, then we may never find our ahandral. A male unconcerned with finding his magic-bonded mate would merely take the first agreeable female and be done with it, and so even he does not waste time engaging in lustful relationships.”

“I thought it was the girl who would be a virgin,” a sleepy voice interrupts, and I look down to find my mate eyeing me through a bleary gaze.

“Weren’t you sleeping?” I chide gently.

Steph gives me a small smile from where she’s tucked against my chest and shrugs her free shoulder.

“Kinda. I was drifting in and out and heard you talking. I like listening to you talk. I guess that if you put so much effort into remaining pure…” She yawns again. “…Then it’s only natural for you to expect such from your mate and that’s where the legend comes from.”

I snort, choking on the laughter seizing my chest, and shake my head. Humans really believe that unicorns are attracted to virgins? A pity that other fae species didn’t have the same misinformation, else it would make finding a mate much easier for my brothers.

“No, ahandral,” I laugh. “We dislike the scent other males on females, but we have no requirements as to the virginal state of the females we find ourselves drawn to. I assure you that I would not even know what that difference might be by scent alone. I can only smell the pure, clean scent of my female in my arms.”

“Not so clean,” she mutters tiredly. “I feel grungy as hell and would kill for a bath.”

“Perhaps Eliph can turn on his charm in the morning and request a bath,” Grimsal says sweetly, pointedly ignoring the irritated look I send his way. “It certainly helped us acquire these lodgings, even if we had to chase away that persistent naga.”

My mate laughs in soft agreement against my chest. Her eyes dance with amusement.

“Would you mind terribly if I pimp you out for a bath?” she teases, and that warmth in her voice makes a direct hit, burrowing deep into my heart.

“Only for you would I agree to use my talents for such nefarious ends,” I reply. “It will be arduous, however.”

“Oh, yes, a very painful experience, I’m sure,” she agrees, her smile widening despite her obvious exhaustion.

It is evident to me that she has no intention of sleeping while we remain awake and talking.

“It will be fine. I will merely bring out Grimsal when the female becomes overly friendly. He shall be my lucky talisman to ward off advances while I endeavor to get all that you need.”

Steph sighs and smothers another yawn behind her hand.

“As lovely as that would be, maybe we should save our secret weapon for something more important than a bath. I’ll survive missing one.”

“If you are certain… I do not mind,” I reply quietly.

One corner of her mouth tips up, and she moves her head from side to side against me, her soft hair tickling my chest.

“I’m sure. I don’t think I want to linger around here, especially not naked while the naga is lurking in one hell of a snit. I’m not sure if your pet goblin here can be foul enough to deter her if she gets it in her mind to try something.”

“If I may… I am pretty talented, so I just might be able to pull it off,” said goblin objects. “In any case, jest all you like, but we both know I have my ways of being very persuasive. It may not be unicorn magic—but I am not without my own skills. Goblins are just as handy at deflecting.”

“So are you telling us that you’re secretly a lady killer?” Steph asks, and her eyebrow rises questioningly.

Grimsal barks out a loud laugh and gives a hard shake of his head.

“Fuck no. I’m obvious as hell when I feel like turning on the charm when in the mood to get a leg up. I am certainly no virgin,” he adds quickly to clarify. “No. It’s just far less entertaining than watching them run for the hills.” He chuckles. “Or slither, as in the case of the naga.”

“And I thank you for that,” I mutter, watching the gleeful light sparking in his eyes. “Yes, I am aware that saying so makes me in your debt, but I would rather face that than a female. Especially that female.”

“Don’t get me wrong. A twisted bit of tail can be a lot of fun, but that attitude makes a male afraid to lose important parts should he happen to fall asleep,” the goblin adds with a lascivious grin.

Steph slaps a hand up, and I grin down at her as she shakes her head vigorously against my chest.

“Nope. I’m calling it quits right here. I do not want details on your kinky escapades. Just keep them to yourself because I don’t want those images in my head.”

“You wound me,” Grimsal sighs with disappointment. “The fun part about making new friends is swapping stories, and those are some of my best.”

“Sleep,” Steph retorts as she grabs a pillow from my side and flings it at the goblin’s head. “Sleep is a great thing, followed by its friend silence.”

Grimsal thins his lips at the pillow thoughtfully before giving my mate a mischievous look. “You do know in some cultures sleep and death are brothers. In my opinion, it is far overrated.”

My ahandral groans, the sound shooting straight down to my cock. I stiffen as my member twitches between my thighs but glare impatiently at the goblin in an effort to take my mind off my condition.

“Enough. She is right. We have a long way to go, and we all need rest. Cease pricking my mate with your endless chatter.”

The goblin snorts mirthfully. “Yes, we all know who wants to do the pricking around here when it comes to that female,” he retorts slyly.

My face heats with embarrassment. I want to lash out at him for turning my words against me, but a warm hand covers my mouth, silencing anything I might have to say.

“Don’t. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you. Now sleep,” Steph mumbles.

My mate’s advice is sensible. Curling my lip at the goblin, I haul Steph higher into my arms and turn as so that we can lie comfortably on the bed. Giving the male my back, I resolve to ignore him and sleep.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t plague us with any more observations. I don’t even know if he sleeps. I don’t dare look in his direction for fear that it might inspire him to start talking again. Instead, I just close my eyes and fall into an easy rhythm matching my mate’s breath and heartbeat.

Chapter 15

Steph

Our wake-up call, such as it is, comes with a cold breakfast provided at an obscenely early hour in the morning. Or at least that’s what is announced by whoever’s on the other side of the door banging on it like an impatient cop who desperately needs to find a hobby, her piercing voice getting louder and shriller with every slam of her fist.

This lady has got to be kidding me.

I grumble against Eliph’s chest, not wanting to so much as move—much less pry my eyes open—but I hear Grimsal stumble out of bed and head over to the door before our hostess knocks it clear off its hinges. How the hell the unicorn is sleeping through this is beyond me. His arms are locked contently around me, and his chest rises and falls peacefully. I am deliciously warm and the scent of him filling my nose stirs as bone deep longing within me with every breath.

Not a good idea, I reluctantly acknowledge as I draw my face back away from his chest, stifling a little sound of dismay as I do so.

Somehow, he is even more beautiful in his sleep. With his face relaxed in slumber, he looks like he carved from the most luminous, high-quality piece of marble. Like Sleeping Beauty’s prince, I am tempted to bend down and warm his lips with my own and see if it returns life to him. I swallow back a small laugh. Although my mind is still fuzzy with sleep, I wonder if this is part of the whole “being embraced by a maiden” thing rendering unicorns vulnerable. He certainly doesn’t look dangerous or terribly alert.

Swiping my curls back out of my face with one hand, I jump as the naga clears her throat at my elbow and slams the tray down hard enough that the clatter makes my pillow bolt upright. Where the banging on the door hadn’t done the job, the fact that I was startled—paired with a loud noise right beside us—seemed to do the trick. He snaps upright so fast that I’m practically thrown to the ground. I would be kissing a floor of questionable cleanliness right now if not for his quick reflexes.

Rubbing the sleep out of one eye, I utilize a glare that’s made men and women alike rush out of my path. Shame it doesn’t have the same effect on her. The naga merely gives me a snide smile as she sets out three teacups and pours the tea as if she didn’t just barrel in at any ungodly hour.

I squint at the faint sunlight peeking in through the window and wrinkle my nose at it. I’m typically an early riser, but this is ridiculous. It couldn’t be more than ten minutes after sunrise, fifteen tops.

“Thank you so much for at least waiting until the sun rose to wake us up,” I mutter to our hostess.

I’m not at all surprised when she inclines her head graciously, a smug smile on her lips.

“Yes, it was considerate. You are welcome. Nagas, being far superior to your race, wake during the early hours before dawn, when the false light of twilight illuminates the sky. Everyone in my inn was awake, bathing in the springs as they prepared for the day… but I deigned to allow a weaker creature such as yourself more rest. As clearly your mate was likewise indulging you,” she adds with a honey-sweet smile directed at Eliph.

I battle the urge to knock that expression right off her face—I mean, hello, I’m right fucking here—but smile victoriously as he pulls away from her, practically drawing me further into his lap to place me between them.

“It seems that Eliph didn’t mind sleeping in so long as he has me to cuddle with. I mean, there’s you—a vicious serpentine rope who’s up before the ass-crack of dawn and is about as subtle in your interest as a club aimed for an unsuspecting male’s head—and then there’s me. I guess there are perks to being tied to a simple lay-about human, since he isn’t trying to escape me,” I observe.

The naga’s expression darkens, her lips pressing together into a sour line as she uncovers the platter of crusty bread and dried fruits and slams the dome down beside it. It seems to me that someone doesn’t like the tables turned on her nasty attitude.

Ha! Take that, bitch. Score one for the weak, pitiful human.

Green eyes brightening with what I assume is venom, she gives me a chilling look before directing a disgusted sneer at the goblin happily picking at the food and utterly ignoring her. He goes so far as to wave her aside so that he can get at the platter from a better angle, drawing an enraged hiss from the female.

Strange.

I eye the platter, and I’m surprised at the delicious-looking assortment of fruits she provided. Even dried, some of them look pretty exotic to me. With the sharp cheeses and fresh bread, this looks like a quite a cozy little feast—and far more effort than I would have ever guessed that she would ever go through for Grimsal or me after the way she treated us last night.

Regardless of what’s going on between me and Eliph, that scaly witch isn’t going to get her claws into him. I’m already discovering that he’s not like most guys, and he certainly deserves better than being saddled with that attitude.

If I’m being fully honest here, he’s sweet enough that he probably deserves better than my moodiness and trust issues too.

That is—of course—if this isn’t all for show.

Argh!

Our hostess straightens, peering at each of us intently. Strangely, not even Eliph is spared from her temper this time, though I’m not sure exactly why, unless it’s because he seems to not notice or care. His purple eyes are only on me as he plucks up what looks like a dried cherry and brings it to my lips. At the brush of the fruit, I open my mouth and he pops the morsel in, drawing a higher flush of anger into the naga’s cheeks.

My moan of pleasure at the sinfully ripe cherry—better than any cherry I’ve ever tasted, as if it had been dipped in chocolate before being preserved—elicits a groan of desire from the unicorn as he nuzzles my neck. The surge of lust that fills my belly is a surprising reaction, but not more than the molted reddish-purple color filling the naga’s face.

Now that’s a curious reaction.

“Are you planning on watching us eat then?” Grimsal asks around a mouth of food as he flicks a dismissive look up at the female. “Or were you interested in joining us?” The grin that tugs at his lips seems to incite her anger further, however.

“I have no interest in eating with the likes of you, goblin—or that human. These were not meant for you. They are from my private supplies, and I…” She stopped short, practically vibrating as she stops herself from blurting out more information than she wanted to share.

If she thinks that the goblin is just going to let it slide, she’s bound to be sorely disappointed. I suck my lips in, trying to hold back my delighted smile as Grimsal grins wickedly at her.

“Oh, yes, I imagine so. You had hoped to catch the weak little human and the hedonistic goblin while we slumber so that you could ply the best of your offerings on my unicorn friend.” He lifts a flask and uncorks it to give the contents a sniff before slamming it shut again. A dark eyebrow wings up, and he barks out a laugh. “Elutharian wine, an intense aphrodisiac. I had heard nagas are great seducers and seductresses, so I suppose that it shouldn’t surprise me that you would be prepared, even for a thoroughly mated male. And once you copulate, there would be no escaping you.”

My mouth drops open in shock, and a dormant possessive side that I had forgotten that I possessed rears up ferociously.

That bitch!

“Wait…You planned to drug him and mate with him forcibly?” I snarl.

Our hostess gives me an impatient look, one that tells me just how beneath her she considers speaking to me. If it weren’t for the fact that Eliph has tensed completely behind me, his arm tightening around my hip hard enough to bruise, I think she might have remained silent on the issue.

I’m pushing up to my feet, getting ready to teach this female a thing or two, when Elipha’s warm hand curls around my arm firmly, drawing me back to him. The moment my body leans once more into his

“You would dare violate me and the ahandral bond?” Eliph asks, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper.

A smaller shiver runs over her body, and something that looks like lacy fins lift up and fan from her tail as she lets out a small pant.

I blink up at her, a fresh wave of fury falling through me at the obvious sign of her sexual interest, and my fingers curl aggressively.

“Answer me!” Eliph demands.

“Yes, I would. A unicorn is a worthy mate for a naga. You are strong and full of magic. Few males could compare. You are wasted on a human, whereas mine is a water-loving species that would be happy to dwell with you for ages at your well.”

“You would dare to presume!”

“Do not look so indignant, unicorn! These are the games that your kind thrives on. Do you not whisk females away from beneath the noses of the males who would keep them safe? Does your kind not plot to take what you desire the most? In this, our species are evenly matched. I would do nothing more than what a male of your species would do—what you have done yourself with this female—and like all the females your kind mates, you would have grown content and adoring toward me. You would love me, my little unicorn,” she hisses.

Eliph stands, lifting me up with him effortlessly, and shakes his head.

“That is where you are wrong. This is not how I would do things. My female comes with me willingly. I did not rob her will as one of my brothers might. For this reason, I don’t agree with what you have sought to do. Though I acknowledge that you are correct in this likeness between our species, it doesn’t appeal to me but rather makes me abhor it all the more,” he growls. Drawing a small pouch from his belt, he tosses it on the table in front of our hostess. “For your trouble, female, so you feel sufficiently compensated for our room and meals,” he bites out.

Darting a look over at the goblin, he jerks his head to the food. “Pack it all up, Grimsal. We will take it with us and leave immediately.”

The goblin bobs his head cheerfully and sets to work, stuffing the food in a small sack that he seems to have pulled out of thin air. He whistles happily as he works, but the naga doesn’t move. She stares at us with a fiery loathing that settles on Eliph as the rest of the food is packed away.

Eliph meets her stare, his horn glowing faintly as he exerts his dominance. Although the naga isn’t cowed, she doesn’t make any move toward us as we pass with the food and our belongings. I can feel her eyes burning a hole through the back of my head as we beat a hasty retreat from the inn.

The moment we step outside, Eliph resumes his equine form, or fetch form as I’ve heard him call it, although I’m not certain what exactly those words allude to. He tosses his head impatiently before angling his neck to stare threateningly back at the inn. His horn pulses brighter, but then he dips his head and herds me forward with a gentle bop of his muzzle.

Let’s depart, Ahandral, his voice murmurs sweetly in my head.

“Okay, but what’s with the armed escort?” I ask, gesturing at his bulkier body and long spear of a horn.

Grimsal chuckles at my side, his eyes sparkling as he gives me a sidelong look.

“He will likely travel like this a lot, but especially as we leave the likes of this place. He’s stronger in his fetch form, and so when you are away from his well, he will feel more inclined to use it to protect you. That naga better not get any ideas. He would kill her easily as he is now.”

“Eliph?” I ask.

I don’t like to think of him as a cold-blooded killer. As far as I’ve seen, he has been incredibly sweet. Not cruel or violent. Although I saw the wreckage he made of the fairy, even then, he allowed the male to live despite threatening me.

The unicorn swings his head toward me, his velvety purple eyes meeting my gaze unflinchingly.

If she or any attacks us directly, I will do whatever is necessary to ensure your safety, Ahandral. And I will do it without apology or regret. You are the most important being in all of the two realms to me.

“Okay. But just if it’s really necessary, right? Like life-threatening. I don’t want someone’s death on my conscience.”

I feel a brush of warmth in my mind, like a caress that makes me yearn to feel it again, and a tinge of amusement that accompanies it.

You have a gentle soul, Ahandral. I feel doubly blessed for you.

“I don’t know about all of that,” I mutter, but I can’t help but feel the answering warmth of pleasure that builds in my chest.

I still swear I feel that naga’s eyes on us, even when the inn is far behind us, too far for me to even see if I cared to look back.

“She won’t follow us, will she?” I mutter nervously.

“Nah,” the goblin says happily at my side. “Nagas are fiercely territorial. She won’t follow us once we clear her territory. I can see her marks here on the trees. I’m estimating that we will be clear the moment we cross the ridge ahead. We humiliated her well enough that she won’t do more than lick her wounds and curse us soundly.” He chuckles.

The silky soft touch of Eliph’s muzzle brushes my arm.

Do not worry. I will remain alert.

I reach back and give his cheek a gentle pat, marveling at the unnatural velvet softness of his fur. He doesn’t seem to mind it. Nor when I slow so that I can stroke his neck or shoulder. He leans into every touch, and I find myself smiling with genuine pleasure after just a short while.

Amazing how easy it is to get used to this. And surprisingly touching him, and allowing myself to enjoy his company, I can almost imagine riding him without crippling terror.

Chapter 16

Steph

The rain is pouring in huge, ugly gray sheets of water as we wait out the storm beneath the canopy of a tree with long, gnarled limbs and giant leaves. While it seems to work well enough for blocking the worst of the rain, fat drops of water splatter through. What manages to land on me soaks my hair so thoroughly that cold water runs in a constant torrent down the nape of my neck. I reach back and grab huge handfuls of it and squeeze it out, but, even so, I know I’m not getting enough out to prevent the cold drips. I shiver miserably as I squint at the gray forest around us.

Eliph stares out at the forest, looking just as wet and miserable since he’s assumed his fae form to shelter me as much as possible with his big body. He’s pressed right up against me, hunched over so I’m nearly surrounded by him, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth on this one. In fact, I lean into him, allowing myself to enjoy the warm brush of his large body against mine, and the thrill of his touch whenever his hand absently skims over me. Not to mention the fact that he’s blocking about sixty percent of the rain that I can see sluicing off his protective covering of fur.

“I’ve heard that it rains a lot in the southern forest, but this is some kind of hell,” Grimsal mutters as he whips off his hat and wrings out the felt before plopping the soggy thing back on his head with a look of distaste.

Eliph wrinkles his nose as a fat drop of water rolls down it and sighs.

“Nagas have control over the weather. I would not be surprised if a storm was sent over the territory following our departure to slow us down with the intention of driving us to shelter. Which is exactly what we are not going to do.” He grimaces and tucks his head down to meet my eyes apologetically. “I’m afraid this means we will be forced to make camp as we travel through their territories.”

“Camp,” I repeat like it’s a foreign word. I laugh a little at that, hoping that he’s joking but he stares dismally back at me.

Oh, fuck, he’s not joking.

I wiggle my manicured fingernails at him. “Honey, does it look like I camp? Let me answer that for you… No. I haven’t slept outdoors since I was a kid. I kind of thought that this trip would involve comfortable places to rest overnight that involved wine, food, and a roaring fire.”

“Two out of four?” he asks pleasantly as he stares up at the canopy as if trying to gauge how much longer it’s going to rain.

I narrow my eyes despite the humor I can feel attempting to bubble up through me at his adopted innocent expression.

“Let me guess—whatever you can catch and a campfire if we can manage to get one going with all the damp wood?” I reply with a snicker.

His annoyed scowl at the rain shifts to a sheepish look as he meets my eyes again. It would almost be almost cute if the situation wasn’t as far from cute as it gets.

“Don’t worry yourself. We’ll be fine,” the goblin assures me. “Consider this just another part of the adventure. At least our world doesn’t have ticks, mosquitos, and fire ants… You’ve got some nasty biters in your world, for sure. We do get arachnid species of unusual size here and there, but I doubt we’ll run into them.”

“Comforting,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.

“Not helping, goblin,” Eliph grumbles in a distinctly put out manner.

The goblin obviously couldn’t care less about my comfort, Eliph is at least interested in my happiness, regardless of his reasons for it.

“Well, I would find it comforting,” Grimsal retorts. “Sleeping outdoors here is far less to complain about than in their world, and I have stomached that a few times when necessity demanded. I had a rattlesnake bite me on the ass in Arizona. If you want to know about a camping inconvenience…”

“We do not,” my grumpy unicorn cuts him off in a way that makes me grateful, because right now I have zero interest in hearing about venomous snakes or that goblin’s ass.

Grimsal snorts and gives me a wicked grin that lets me know that he’s been dicking around with us this entire time. For a distraction, it was actually pretty effective. I swallow back a laugh, not wanting to encourage him, and stare back out at our bleak surroundings.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted… About the wood—once it stops raining, I can dry it out for us,” the goblin assures me as he makes a small spark in the shelter between his hands that glows with warmth.

“You can make fire?” I squeal happily, ignoring Eliph’s grumbling under his breath about it not being all that impressive.

I’m soaked through and freezing already, so I’m prepared to be all kinds of impressed.

“Yep,” Grimsal says with a smug smirk. “This here is a hot-spark. Not really fire, more of an illusion spell designed to keep the holder warm. Lighting stuff on fire is far more fun, but this is pretty handy for times like this. Now hold out your hands so I can transfer it.”

I do a happy wiggle in place as I reach for it, and gasp at the sparks that shoot through me when I brush against Eliph a little too intimately. His husky moan at the contact makes me shiver and I’m almost tempted to do it again just to see if we can make sparks fly again.

Except for the fact that I shouldn’t be encouraging sparks with my soon to be ex in a fucking downpour.

“Sorry!” I whisper as I rein in my curiously uppity libido in and back under my control.

I only get a grunt in reply, but I assume that it means he accepts my apology.

There is a temptation to sulk a little over my self-imposed denial, regardless of how sound the reasoning, but in the next moment I’m completely distracted when the tiny red ball is settled in my cupped hands. It glows brightly, and heat washes over me without burning my hands. The downside is that I can feel humidity settling in around us, but I can live with that so long as I’m not cold.

“This is incredible!”

Eliph raises an eyebrow as he looks down at me, but hey, I’m human. It’s not like I see magic up close and personal like this. I heard that witches got quite the experience once the portals opened and can now do feats like this, but I’ve never seen it myself since I don’t know any witches personally. The most I’ve experienced is seeing how my sister’s predictions have become more accurate, even if they’re still a bit vague while she hones her ability to interpret what she sees. I can admit that even then I’ve remained pretty skeptical, just like I doubted a lot of this magic-y stuff, but now… Wow!

I hold the ball closer to me as I watch the tiny sparks in its center dance.

“Now what?” I ask eagerly.

“Now… don’t drop it,” Grimsal chuckles. “When you get tired of holding it, switch it over to your mate. You can keep it going back and forth between the two of you easily enough.”

That’s all? That’s kind of disappointing. My first real brush with magic and all I can really do is hold it. I frown down at it and sigh.

“Would you like me to take it?” Eliph offers.

I immediately jerk my hands closer to my chest, and then blush as I realize just how that had to look—like a child afraid that her treat was about to be taken away.

“No, I’ve got it, but thank you,” I tell him.

Rather than be irritated, he smiles down at me with understanding, his horn glowing in the gloom. He flicks the wet hair off his brow with one hand and draws me closer to the enormous root system of the tree.

“I think this will last a little while yet. Sit with your hot-spark,” he directs as he settles on a particularly massive root and draws me down with him.

He remains hunched over me, but now I’m nestled against him, practically sitting between his legs. The heat of his thighs surrounds me, tempting me to wiggle back against him once more so that he folds himself completely around me. I can’t deny that I’m beginning to crave his touch and wouldn’t mind having it right about now.

Eliph drags his knuckle down the side of my cheek, drawing another shiver from me. It certainly isn’t because of the damp root that I am certain is under my ass. I can barely feel it through my wet clothes, but I know it is there and right at this moment it is entirely inconsequential with the heat that is coursing through me. It is nearly as warming as the hot-spark held between my hands. After a long day of walking, I can admit that both are equally seductive. It is crazy. I can’t afford to lose myself in a man again.

I can’t really afford to be distracted at all, I silently acknowledge as I divide my attention between looking down at the little magic ember and staring out through the trees whenever a hint of movement among the flowers or branches draws my attention. I’m pretty sure those little movements around us are just from the storm and not something to worry about since Eliph remains relaxed and Grimsal still paces around the tree, bouncing his own hot-spark between his hands as he looks around curiously.

“Lean back against me. You will be more comfortable,” Eliph whispers in my ear, his breath brushing over my skin tantalizingly.

I’m a little uneasy with the idea of practically lying on someone, especially someone I have mixed feelings about, but I slowly lean back, sinking further into his arms until my back is flattened entirely against his chest. His warmth and scent engulf me, and he makes a small sound of contentment, letting me know that he’s not uncomfortable with my weight on him. That little sound of pleasure worms its way into my heart and gradually I relax into his embrace.

Wrapped snugly in his arms and with the heat of the hot-spark seeping into me, I blink sleepily and yawn, managing somehow to not let out of soft sigh of my own pleasure.

“Rest,” he murmurs. “We will be on our way soon enough. You will need your strength for the riding up ahead.”

Riding… Oh joy. I grimace but allow myself to settle further and turn slightly so I can snuggle my cheek against his bicep, my lips practically close enough to graze his fur.

“Don’t let the hot-spark fall,” I caution sleepily, neatly evading thoughts of my own rising desires in response to his hands gently cupping around mine—not taking the spark from me but providing extra protection.

His attentive desire to keep me warm is touching and I can’t fight back the tiny smile that pulls at the corner of my mouth.

“I won’t,” he assures me. “I will take care of you, I promise.”

Doubtful, the skeptical, wounded part of me hisses, but I firmly tell it shut the hell up. I’m tired and strangely I’m starting trust him. Letting out another jaw-cracking yawn, I drift easily to sleep as we wait out the rain.

Chapter 17

Eliph

The rain lets up within a short amount of time and we are able to continue on with our journey. The hours stretch long before us as we trek through the forest, but with the onset of dusk, the sounds of the forest change from bird song to the quiet hum of nocturnal life. It is time for us to take our own rest, though the sounds of this forest of disconcerting to me. It is too quiet for my comfort.

It is not entirely silent. Frogs croak somewhere nearby, the sound like the underbelly of a melody in accompaniment to the chirp of crickets. For all those soft sounds, the forest is unnaturally quiet. I can’t so much as smell any kind of big game animal, not even a young boar which we can make our dinner. I can’t even pick up the faintest trace, which means that the large game animals have long since been culled and killed by the nagas of this forest.

That is going to make hunting game much harder when one is forced to bring down many small beasts to feed our appetites. Especially if I’m right and the nagas forced out or hunted down all the larger creatures who would otherwise lumber through these peaceful woods. It feels wrong… off, as if something important is missing. For all its strangeness, however, there are small things to enjoy about it.

The fronds swaying in the evening breeze and the bright blooms that dotted the landscape all day have closed, plunging everything into a world of lavenders and grays. It’s peaceful, but I miss the bioluminescent flowers and mushrooms of my grotto, although the continuous trickle of water in the air is at least familiar.

I glance down at my mate who is hovering at my side, worn and exhausted, and my heart goes out to her with a fierce protectiveness rising in my breast. I silently despair over the fact that she doesn’t seem to be taking any joy in our surroundings. Her clothes have dried rumpled due to the hours of walking since the rainstorm swept through. I should have had her ride, but she asked for a day to just walk before she was able to face riding again, and in the face of her fear I could deny her nothing. Now, however, I wonder if my capitulation caused her to overtax herself.

She appears far more tired than I thought she would be. Her hair sticks out unevenly in a few places, and her eyes, which scan our chosen campsite, are ringed with exhaustion. All the same, she is beautiful to me as ever, and I feel my chest warm with affection. I am also concerned because she has been limping for the last while, and I’m eager to get her settled somewhere as comfortably as possible.

Lips pinching together, Steph sighs and absently rubs the small of her back.

“I guess this is it, then?”

I set a comforting hand on her shoulder so that she looks back at me, her expression for once not guarded, and I give her an encouraging smile.

“I will make sure you are as comfortable as I can manage,” I promise.

She looks at me with confusion, but I understand that she’s not really able to comprehend all of what I can do for her, and all of it—all of my magic, all of me—is hers. Turning away, I set about examining the space where we will lay and getting a feel for the various energy paths in the air around me. Although I can conjure things, I have to be careful with the way that I do so. Even conjuration has its own set of rules. I cannot draw iron, I can’t materialize food—which is the real pity—and if I don’t want to drain myself into exhaustion, I have to work with the natural fibers and materials surrounding me.

Standing in the center of our camp, I glance at my mate, only to find her squinting into the dark. There is no disguising the fact that she’s ill at ease as she stands there waiting on me.

I turn my head in the direction she stares and draw in a deep breath to scent the air, but there is nothing there. For whatever reason, she is particularly unsettled, but I suspect it may be largely due to the unfamiliar surroundings in which she finds herself. If I am uncomfortable, there is little reason to doubt that she would also be uneasy to an even greater degree. To be in the fae world and far from any settlement must be particularly disconcerting to her if she spent much of her time in the human cities.

She just needs somewhere that she will feel safe. I can try to do at least that much for her.

Drawing the energies of fibers from all around me, I begin to fashion them back together into a giant thick leaf-like material to serve as a protective canopy before I move on to making soft bedding, drawing from the natural plant life as I do so. Although I can feel my energy draining away as I expend it toward creating a comfortable shelter, I refuse to stop until there is a thick pile of bedding waiting for my mate to lie upon.

My arms are shaking with exertion, my horn throbbing in an uncomfortable ache on my brow from the continuous pulses of energy that spun around it like a spindle as I weave my magic into place. I let my arms drop heavily to my sides, my breath heaving out of me in large gusts of air as Grimsal whistles from where he is perched on a stone nearby.

“Now that is true artistry, though now you look like shit. Looks like you pay a hefty price for this sort of magic,” he observes, squinting critically at me.

I wave him off and grunt impatiently. It is rare that I engage in such expenditures of power, and it may be foolish to do so when we’re so far from the well, but as far as I’m concerned it is worth it. I have little doubt that the goblin is waiting for a reply, but I decide not to humor him. Instead, I go over to Steph and tap her arm to get her attention. Her face immediately lights up at the sight of our camp.

“You did all of this?” she exclaims as she drops down onto the bedding and runs her hands over the soft green fibers with obvious delight.

“I did promise that I would do everything I could to see to your comfort,” I murmur as I drop down beside her.

I promptly cross my legs in an attempt to ignore my hardening cock as she moans at my side and burrows into the blankets. I also ignore the goblin tsking as he draws up to my side.

“Not that you couldn’t have done half of this and had something suitable for us while saving yourself some energy. But no, you just have to lavish comforts on your mate as if you’re set up in your grotto’s keep,” Grimsal interjects, making my eyes snap to him with an unforgiving glower.

The male holds up his hands in surrender and drops down comfortably on his own mound of blankets. He sighs as he leans back and lies flat, giving him a far better look at the magic-spun fabric I’ve anchored into place.

Steph lifts her head, a frown of worry creasing her face, and I snarl at that damnable goblin. I want her to enjoy the shelter I made for her, not worry about whether I drained my reserves too low to fashion this… Even if the goblin is correct.

“You didn’t do that, did you?” she demands, her brow dropping unhappily, worry evident in her dark eyes. “I didn’t come with you so you can drop dead from exhaustion.”

I lean forward so I can comfortably meet her eyes and touch her arm comfortingly.

“It’s just a little magic,” I assure her. “I will be perfectly fine in the morning. In exchange, we will have some small comfort while we sleep on the ground. This should be enough to keep us warm and dry.”

“Are you going to be doing this every night?” she asks, a faint note of worry in her voice and a great deal of disapproval.

It seems that my mate cares more about my welfare than what she lets on or is willing to admit. The thought brings a smile to my face and my sweet mate punches me in the arm to get my attention.

Chuckling, I ward off another attack and very gently hold her against me until she drops back to physically maintain the distance between us. Frustrated, I blow out a long breath, but my mate isn’t giving up her inquiry.

“Well, are you? You can’t possibly keep doing this,” she observes, her eyes narrowing on me with such intensity that I almost feel as if she is attempting to see into every hidden corner of my soul.

If only she knew that I would give every bit of it to do with as she sees fit if she asks.

The goblin gives a rough snort of amusement, his dark eyes burning with interest as he stares at us. With a strange vocal click, he turns back to surveying my work for a few more minutes before he elects to speak again.

“No reason for him to do all of this again—unless he’s a masochist,” he snickers. I am considering that I very may well be keeping him in my company when the goblin continues. “This shouldn’t be too hard to take down in the morning. Everything is put together in a tight but orderly fashion, so it will not be too difficult to store it.”

Steph glances over at the both of us and then down at herself in dismay before meeting our eyes again.

“On what?”

“Not on—in!” he informs her happily as he tosses a bag no larger than a small pillow between us. It lands on the forest floor with a light thump as he jabs a finger at it with excitement. “It just so happens that I have a winpar satchel.”

I exchange a confused look with my mate, because I have never heard of any such thing either. She lifts an eyebrow and I shrug my shoulders in answer. At our mutual confusion his grin widens.

“Not surprising you’ve never heard of it, unicorn. Not that you’ve heard of much magic beyond your borders, I suspect.” He chuckles. “But in this case, it would be natural. It is a peculiar bit of goblin magic that is not just an illusion. Not exactly, anyway. Funny thing, winpar satchels. Those who manage to get ahold of them mistakenly call them bottomless bags, but they are not. They can hold contents equal to roughly the same volume as the one who owns the satchel—which can certainly be a lot for a particularly big male,” he adds.

“And all of this will be able to fit in there?” Steph asks doubtfully.

“Of course. It’s just a matter of compressing and binding. When all is said and done, I’m pretty certain that all of this will fit with room to spare.”

I murmur with appreciation as I look at the bag.

“This can be pretty helpful,” I admit.

“And look inside,” he says gleefully. “While the supplies I filched from the inn have dwindled, there’s a nice little something I managed to snare on one of the few occasions I popped out ahead of you.”

I lift an eyebrow at him. There is always a chance he is preparing some sort of monumental joke to hit me with, but I also know that even if he does, he at least will not be aiming to kill or harm me in any way. It is for that reason I slip my hand into the bag even as I hold his gaze the entire time. He knows the exact moment my fingers curl around something cool and furry because he nods eagerly and gestures for me to continue. Holding tight to my prize, I withdraw my hand and am rewarded with a pair of fat rabbits.

Fascinating.

I am suddenly excited because if there is room to spare as he says, it will give us an opportunity to hunt as we travel rather than waiting until we are too tired to continue.

“And the way it stores game…”

“The bag seals itself when closed. When we have the bedding in there, I can fasten down a compartment inside of it so we can put small game inside,” he says cheerfully as he works to get the fire together.

As he does so I field dress and spit the rabbits, all the while keenly aware of the way my mate is staring at my handiwork. When I finally look up with my task complete, I am alarmed to see her face pale and drawn.

“We’re not eating that are we?” she rasped. “I mean, it’s been sitting in his bag for who knows how long. That can’t possibly be sanitary.”

I tilt my head and regard her with confusion. This is food… She would turn it down?

“We will be eating it tonight and then whatever is left come morning we will wrap in the large mako leaves to carry with us for our morning and midday meals.”

Her complexion takes on an almost waxen look as she swallows.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she mutters.

“It is survival in our world,” I clarify quietly. Much of your technology will not work here, but our magic does. A simple spell over the mako leaves will keep the food fresh.”

“And bacteria and parasites just… obey?” she demands.

I give the rabbit a look and shrug once more. “I suppose they do, since the food is just as fresh and tasty as when it was cooked…, just kept cool within the leaves rather than hot.”

Steph swipes a hand over her mouth and closes her eyes. “You didn’t answer my question… Do you expect me to eat it?”

I frown over at her but shake my head as I hand the spitted rabbits over to Grimsal. He just gives her an amused look as he carries them off but thankfully refrains from commenting. No doubt we are doing a fine job entertaining him without his help at this moment.

“I do not like the idea of you going hungry,” I admit, “but if you refuse, it is your right. There are some berries I have seen growing, but we will have to be cautious because some of them may be poisonous to humans.”

“And let me guess: you don’t know what’s harmful and what isn’t?” she observes, her eyebrows lifting in inquiry.

“This is not my grotto, so many of the plant species here I’m unfamiliar with. In my grotto I know everything that lives within it.”

“I guess if my choices are questionable fruit versus trusting you about the meat, the latter may be the safer option.”

“Perhaps,” I agree.

“I see,” she mumbles. She draws a long breath and rolls her neck before squinting at the rabbits cooking over the fire, the grease from their fat already scenting the air.

She licks her lips.

“It makes me sick to even think about it, but… rabbit, yum yum.”

I smile fondly at my mate, and she returns it with a tentative smile of her own. I do love her spirit. I give her shoulder a squeeze, and she rests her hand over mine, clasping it anxiously for a moment before releasing me.

“You will not regret trusting me,” I tell her and am rewarded by a peculiar, strained look that I can’t interpret.

I just hope she will come to understand just how much she can trust me, but at least this is a step in the right direction.

“Hope I don’t barf in the morning when we have leftovers,” she mutters.

Chapter 18

Eliph

My mate clings to my back like an ungainly tick. An unflattering comparison, perhaps, but aside from clinging to my mane she tends to flop around with the slightest jostle, all the while cursing lividly. I am happy that we have stopped moving and stand stock still beneath her as Grimsal peers up at her from where he stands at my flank once more attempting to explain to her how to sit on my back correctly.

I can tell my sweet ahandral is not enjoying the lesson because she sits back and crosses her arms over her chest as she glares at him mutinously.

“My ass and thighs are killing me, and the ache in my belly can easily rival the worst cramp I’ve ever had—and that’s saying something” she interrupts Grimsal’s tirade about keeping her seat with a raised hand and groan of misery.

Sighing, she rubs the ache in one leg, and my heart goes out to my female. I know that she’s not comfortable. It’s hard to ignore with the way she is broadcasting an endless stream of mental cursing. I greatly dislike this and so it has the unfortunate side effect of making me ill at ease, which just makes things worse as she attempts to find her seat. But I can’t help worrying that every move I make is causing her fatigue and pain.

The goblin, however, is ruthless. Despite his otherwise easygoing nature, he’s made it clear that to become accustomed to riding, she can’t give up the moment it becomes uncomfortable. As we all know that I’m liable to want to immediately ease my mate’s distress, and the disadvantage of not being particularly helpful with instructions from the perspective of the mount, it means that her instruction thanklessly falls entirely on him.

Grimsal eyes her and shrugs.

“That’s all normal. It is going to hurt until the muscles strengthen. I have little doubt that by the end of the day your ass will feel like it’s about to fall off,” he replies flatly.

My female narrows her eyes on him, not giving an inch. “It already does, and that doesn’t encourage me to stay up here when I’m sure my heart is about to jump right out of my throat every few seconds from the way I’m sliding around up here. What if I end up falling off? That’s a long way to drop. Every time he walks, I feel like I’m about to bounce right off his back!” She glances down at me and gives me an apologetic look. “No offense, honey. I know you’re not trying to dump me off.”

Never! I swear, drawing a reluctant smile from her that makes my heart leap into a wild, excited dance.

Her smiles have not been plentiful this day so I treasure each one.

“You’re not going to fall off, female,” Grimsal mutters and blows out an exasperated sigh. “All you have to do is as I showed you. Squeeze your legs around his barrel, sit up, and move with his stride.”

“Easier said than done,” Steph grumbles as she stares down at my withers. “I don’t understand how to do half of that. It feels weird when I attempt to ‘move with him.’ It feels ridiculous, like I’m just forcing it.”

Sympathetic, I nudge her leg with my muzzle encouragingly. She gives it a small, absent pat, and although her expression noticeably softens, she noticeably sits up straighter.

“You’ll get the feel of it, it just takes some practice. Keep it up and you’ll be riding competently rather than bouncing like a sack of potatoes lashed to him.” He gives her a speculative look and glances at me hopefully. “I mean—I suppose we can tie her to you and just let you go. She might not be afraid if we tied her tight enough.”

I snap my teeth at him, telling him exactly what I think of that idea just as my ahandral shivers and shakes her head.

“No… no, that’s quite all right. I can’t do this without feeling like I have some kind of control.” Her lips press together as she stares down at her hands clenched in my mane. It feels like she is about to pull the hair out by the roots, but I don’t complain. This is not easy on her.

“I have to tell you that saying to grip him harder with my legs isn’t really helping me much,” she continues. “Do you really have any idea how much that shit hurts after less than ten minutes? And don’t get me started about my abused abs. I’m already hurting in places I never imagined hurting. No one said riding was going to hurt, I might remind you,” she retorts, giving the goblin a particularly dirty look.

“That’s why you want to tighten your core muscles and keep your legs tight around him,” Grimsal explains again.

“That’s what I’m trying to say. I am, and it’s just not working. I don’t get what I’m doing wrong,” she groans.

Perhaps we should stop for today, I suggest to her gently. You did well.

Her amused snort that follows is unexpected, as is the hand that gently rubs my neck in a fond manner. “You really are a big softy. You’d just let me quit now, even though of the last hour we’ve only actually walked twenty of those minutes, and that’s after a near disaster when I attempted to mount you without help.”

We found you a log. It is not your fault that you are not very tall, I remind her, not wishing my mate to speak unkindly about herself.

Her smile widens, and the chuckle that falls from her lips makes my tail flag with happiness even as my chest swells proudly at being able to make my female laugh. I want more of those sounds from my mate, even if it seems to disgust our goblin companion. His eyes narrow on me suspiciously.

“I may not be able to hear you, but I know what you are doing,” he grumbles as he points at me accusingly. “If you spoil her and continue to cater to her like you have been, what happens if there’s an emergency and we need to escape quickly? She needs to learn how to ride without being coddled.”

In answer, I put my head down and mime goring with my horn that sets off another peal of laughter from Steph, this one hard enough that it makes her breasts jiggle in a delightful way. Her fingers stroke through my mane, and her body vibrates with amusement even as she shakes her head at me.

“As sweet as that is, I think me learning to ride is probably better than you skewering everyone who comes near us. It’s messy and dangerous—and just no. I like the idea of being able to escape quickly. That’s a far better idea to go with.” She sighs and frowns down at the ground. “Really, I’m mostly complaining for stress relief. It makes me feel better just to get it off my chest how much I hate all of this… but I’m not ready to give up. Okay?”

I give her a skeptical look but toss my head in the affirmative.

Okay. A little longer. But you will tell me when you are too tired and sore to go on further.

“I’ll let you know when I’m absolutely at my limit,” she agrees.

“I know you’re afraid. Just don’t stiffen up,” Grimsal advises. “That will jostle you more and make you more afraid and sore.”

Steph takes a deep breath and nods as she tightens her hands painfully in my mane.

“Okay. Just gotta relax, hold on, and move with Eliph.”

“I can ride double with you again if you…”

“No!” she barks out. “It’s fine. That is something I don’t want to get into the habit of. No offense, but I would really rather not have you or anyone else squished up behind me. I’ll get this. I swear I will.” The last she mutters softly to herself as she swallows thickly.

I worry, but I do not contradict her. If she is certain then I will not press, although I think that Grimsal’s insistence is too hard on her. It is something I will have to have words with him about later.

His reproachful look, however, reminds me just how limited my time is. One way or another, I need to have her at the Heart of Wells before the end of three lunar cycles. Even if she accepts me, it will do me little good in the middle of nowhere when our mating bonds must be formalized by Beforal. As much as I want to give my mate all the time she needs to be accustomed to riding, I also know that our time together is already approaching its end.

Flicking my tail, I stride forward, my mate seated uneasily on my back. She isn’t so stiff this time, which is a relief, and is attempting to bob and move with me even though the rhythm is off. More than anything, I can feel her discomfort brushing at my mind, though she doesn’t say anything more about it once she has said all she needed to get out about the issue.

She is stubborn, my ahandral, so I’m not surprised when she does not demand to stop. We don’t so much as trot, just maintaining that easy walk that makes her pull my mane out, but we still manage to cover a short distance like that. The entire time she says little other than quietly cursing under her breath, but she doesn’t relent.

I have little doubt that the goblin hears her since he walks at my side without so much as breaking a sweat, but he keeps a cheerful smile on his face and occasionally tosses an encouraging word or two to my mate. She usually scowls at him when he does so, probably because he’s being too cheerful right now, and given the small burst of violence I sense from her, I’m pretty sure she’s considering pummeling him from her higher perch. In the end, however, she refrains from retaliating against the male—though I wouldn’t blame her, nor would anyone else, I wager—and we maintain our slow, easy pace for Steph’s benefit.

It is plain to see that she is doing quite well. Despite her fear, she is picking up the skills she needs. It is truly commendable. More than that, the strength she exhibits in the face of her discomfort is impressive. Though I want nothing more than to relieve her of it, I keep finding more to admire about my mate. Although I do not offer again, I am constantly aware of her through our bond, keeping tabs on her distress and enjoying the gentle touch of mind, spirit, and body while it lasts.

I am certain that the goblin, despite his sharp words to her, is of a similar mind about our progress because he doesn’t say anything else until he calls the exercise to a halt an hour later and helps her slide down from my back. She lands somewhat gracelessly, but the wince on her face is telling as to the reason.

Obviously in pain, Steph mutters under her breath as she rubs and thumps her thighs, attempting to massage the life into them as she takes small steps away from me to stretch out the muscles. Yet, at the same time, the smile she gives me once she loosens up a bit is one that is full of pride around the bite of pain.

“Thank goodness that’s over for now… but I did it,” she says, drawing in a deep breath and standing taller.

The pleasure on her face is infectious, and I want nothing more than to witness more of it!

That you did, I agree.

I watch her with appreciation as she steps away and strides through the low brush. Her gait is off, and she appears to be limping slightly, but her head is up and proud. I am still admiring her as I settle into an easy walking pace behind her, but now that she is on the ground, I find that my tension has returned. My ears flick toward any sound, my nostrils expanding to draw in any unfamiliar scent.

Despite the hammering instincts that continue to demand that I carry her off to my grotto at once, I resolve to enjoy the day as I watch the sun bounce off individual strands of her dark hair and the flit of butterflies as they take wing in the air around her, disturbed from the brush through which we tread. Part of me wishes that she would glance back at me for a moment, but the rest of me dreads it, worried that she would catch some small glimpse of my concern, even buried as it is within my fetch form.

It is obvious that my discomfort is not as unnoticeable as I would like to think, because Grimsal directs an understanding look my way, but he thankfully keeps my mate’s mind occupied with one of his many stories. I can’t help but be grateful.

Chapter 19

Steph

I’m in pain. My legs, my torso, my ass, my feet—it all hurts. I want to roll over and bury my face in my rolled-up jacket that I’m using as a pillow, and just the thought of it makes my body stiffen with agony. I had been a little stiff after I climbed down from Eliph’s back yesterday, but I hadn’t even noticed it anymore by the time we stopped walking for the night. My feet had been killing me, but that was about it. Obviously, it all waited to ambush me while I was sleeping.

A weak groan escapes me, and I flop an arm. Even my arms hurt. If that wasn’t punishment enough, I can’t even move enough to get away from the terrible smell assaulting me.

“You look like something a centaur shit out,” a familiar goblin voice informs me happily.

I may not be able to move, but I can curl my fingers except for the single bird flying free in the center. Despite the gesture, I’m relieved at having someone familiar nearby rather than waking up mangled by some wild creature or lost alone in the forest, as had been plaguing my dreams much of the night.

“Now, now, that’s not polite,” he laughs, and I lift my head weakly.

“Yes, because you’re so polite. And if I look like shit, that’s nothing compared to the smell coming off you.”

“Off me?” he queries.

He leans over, a smile beaming in his face, and the horrible smell gets more pungent. My eyes narrowing, I draw my head back in disgust from the source of the odor: a small clay bowl in which he’s using some kind of stone to grind the contents. He scoops up a glop of the cloudy green mixture on his finger and grins devilishly at me.

“I’m afraid you’ve got that wrong. In just a few moments, this lovely smell is going to be coming off you.”

That stinky… paste… on me? Oh, hell no!

“Yeah… I don’t think so. Eliph!” I shout, just to make sure I have backup.

There’s a rustle, and I manage to smirk victoriously at the goblin as I hear heavy footsteps approach in response to my shout.

“I’m here, ahandral,” he murmurs sweetly.

The unicorn’s voice flows over me soothingly and I turn my head toward the direction of his voice, relieved to be hearing it with my ears rather than the disembodied mind speech that we shared all day yesterday.

I point an accusing finger at Grimsal and manage a small pout for the protective male hovering anxiously beside me. Is it unfair? Probably. All I know is that I don’t want the horrible gunk anywhere near me and that the unicorn will likely flatten anyone who touches me without permission.

“Your goblin friend is threatening to put that horrible stuff on me. Can you do something about him, please?”

Grimsal widens his eyes at me and passes the bowl over my head to… my so-called mate. My mouth gapes open, and I whip my head around to stare at the goblin in disbelief. He gives me a wry smile and shrugs.

“Sorry, I value my hands…They’re just too valuable to part with,” he says, wiggling the digits at me. “Your mate gave me the go-ahead to whip this up for you when he saw how much you are suffering from the day before. A good rub with this stuff and you’ll be as good as new. He will be doing the honors though—not I.”

Craning my head around, I give Eliph a gimlet eye, silently daring him to even so much as approach me with that stuff. Don’t get me wrong. The concept isn’t beyond me. I’ve heard of Bengay, and it’s horrible enough—but it’s just not the same. The concoction that the goblin came up with smells somehow even worse than that.

“No,” I growl between my teeth, making Eliph frown at me in dismay.

“Ahandral, please. Your muscles are hurting from the riding you did yesterday, and we still have a lot of distance to cover over the next several days. This will help.”

I give it a dubious glance and turn a hopeful look on him.

“It looks disgusting. Can’t you just magic me up or something?”

“My healing magic does not work like that,” he admits. “I can infuse substances, usually influencing the properties of my well, to work on ailments, but I can’t just… magic it away, as you say.”

“Great. Are you going to whammy the goo then?” I ask, my nose wrinkling with distaste.

Is it me, or is the smell getting stronger? Does whatever is in it respond to insults and go more rank with each complaint? It seems preposterous, but I’m not above dismissing the possibility.

“Sorry,” I whisper under my breath to it, just in case.

Eliph glances down at the muck and grimaces. “I did. I added some of my magic to strengthen the healing property of the herbs. It will work much faster than it otherwise would.” His lips twist apologetically. “Unfortunately, it seems that it had the side effect of making the smell even more revolting. I apologize for that, but you will feel better after I rub this into your muscles.”

I want to jut my lip out and refuse, but I catch myself. What am I, five? Even Harriet behaves better than that when she has to do something she doesn’t like. Although the magic puke smells horrible, logically I know it’s no worse than what my niece has to endure whenever her mother rubs liniment oil into Harriet’s tired muscles after her more intense practice sessions. If my nine-year-old niece can bear it, I certainly am not going to act like a baby about it.

And if it makes me feel better so I am not feeling like a walking corpse all day… it could be worth it despite the way it’s going to make me reek. At least the smell isn’t making me want to hurl. That’s a plus.

“This will make me feel better?” I ask hesitantly.

Grimsal nods, his smile brightening. “With the unicorn magic, there’s no doubt. You’ll be right as rain in an hour or two. Maybe a tiny bit of stiffness but not too bad. Be glad that we are doing this in small increments. It could be so much worse.”

I don’t even want to think about worse.

“All right,” I mutter with one last scowl at the slimy poultice. “Go ahead and hit me with it then.”

“I will massage it into your muscles very carefully,” Eliph assures me as he gently turns me over from my side onto my belly.

I can’t help the pained groan that escapes me as the muscles pull. My hips are practically crying at the slow tug as he repositions me, but once I’m settled, it’s not so bad. Lying on my belly, I burrow my face into my coat as he lifts my shirt and gets to work on my back. The goblin crap is cool to the touch on my skin at first but quickly heats up as he strokes up and down my back with his long, strong fingers.

To my surprise, as he works it into my skin, the smell of the gunk changes, having a more astringent rosemary-mint note to it, with subtle undercurrents of currant, palm oil, and other trace scents that I can’t identify offhand. It’s strong, but not unpleasant like it was before. Even better, those fingers rubbing into my skin are doing wonderful things to my body. Although the intent is obviously to ease my aching muscles, which it is, in spades—I can literally feel each one easing into mush as he enthusiastically ministers to it—they dance in such a way that each touch has started to make my clit throb just a little as one pleasure blurs into another.

I finally understand why so many people find massages erotic because this is hitting all the right places for me.

Eliph stills suddenly, his hands at the small of my back. I can feel a shudder move through him. His fingers dip down lower, very slowly massaging around my hips in small, tight circles even as the rest of him hovers over me. Something hard brushes against my ass as he shifts his weight over me before he rubs lower into my hips, and a soft, embarrassing moan unintentionally escapes me.

He makes an inhuman sound in the back of his throat that almost resembles a cross between the nicker of a horse and rumble of a feline. Whatever it is, it makes all the tiny hairs on my body stand on end with pleasure as the sound hits my ear.

I arch a little into his touch and mumble with satisfaction as he begins to work off my pants. The pleasure dims as my leg muscles protest being manhandled, but then the cool poultice is rubbed into the back of my thighs and I let out a tiny whimper of relief as he slowly makes his way down my legs. He even carefully massages my aching feet before turning me over—this time with thankfully less pain—and begin his ministrations at the feet, working his way up.

In this position, one thing soon becomes apparent—there’s no way to not notice his arousal. Not only is his horn glowing in a pearly, swirly manner, but his erection pushes out impressively at the apex of his thighs. That bit of cloth that covers it does nothing to disguise its size and shape. Thank goodness that, as far as I can see, there’s nothing unusual about its imprint. It’s large and thick, but no extra craziness going on with it.

Not a horse dick—thank you.

Hung like a horse is one thing, but a literally horsey part there would be quite another.

I rotate my hips and let out another sigh as his pale, velvety hands run up and over my pelvis and hips as he works out the kinks there. I’m disappointed, however, when he gives my belly a gentle rub and then skips right over the rest of the good parts to go straight to my arms and shoulders. Although there are some aches that remain in the wake of his touch, they’re minimal compared to the erotic one stirring within my belly.

As far as he’s concerned, we’re already mates—so what gives? I’ve never met a straight man who wasn’t interested in fondling tits when presented, and I happen to think I’ve got a gorgeous pair. But he’s skipping over the goodies like they’re nothing.

“You missed some spots,” I breathe with a suggestive wiggle.

He glances down, his eyes noticeably heating. I’m pretty sure I saw his dick leap underneath the cloth, but he doesn’t make any move for the girls and goes right back to stroking my arms.

Huh.

I consider wiggling against him more aggressively so that he’ll pay attention to all of me, but even the glimmer of temptation instantly draws me up short and I stare up at the trees hanging overhead instead. I’m traveling through this world for one reason, and it isn’t to hop on unicorn dick, I sternly remind myself.

I have to be crazy to be tempting him like this. What if it makes this bond thing between us worse? This is, after all, the same male who I don’t want to be mated to. I don’t want to be with him, to depend on him and be disappointed in the end, and yet at the same time I really want him right now.

It has just been a long time since I’ve been touched in a way that I genuinely enjoyed, and damn, I really do enjoy his every caress. I’m immune to the pretty boy bullshit, but it seems I’m a sucker for this. Although his desire is evident, his touch remains even and soothing. Yeah, it’s getting me all revved up at the same time, but I can appreciate the selflessness as he ignores his lust to care for me. It may make me desire him even more, if I’m perfectly honest with myself. To have this gorgeous, considerate guy look at me the way he does and touch me this way… It’s like winning a boyfriend lottery that I never knew I wanted to enter.

It’s not something that can last—I’m not naïve—but I would like to enjoy the fantasy for a little while as we travel. Surely, there’s nothing wrong with that if it doesn’t make things worse.

I just have to ask. I peek around, grateful to see that the goblin decided to make tracks at some point. He didn’t need to see all my feminine treasures anyway. Until now, I wasn’t sure if I even wanted Eliph to see them, but hadn’t kicked up a fuss because I recognized that I needed help. With no audience, I’m feeling a bit bold. I won’t find out anything if I don’t ask.

I clear my throat and stare at his cheek as he studiously massages my left arm.

“So… about this bond thing… does sex affect it at all?”

As if that wasn’t entirely too obvious. I immediately want to slap my hand over my face in embarrassment, except he has ahold of one and his large body is in the way of the other.

Eliph’s purple eyes slide over to me, and he shakes his head.

“The bond is cemented by magic and nothing else,” he replies softly as he massages between my fingers, bringing relief to every tense spot that had clenched in his mane yesterday.

I moan with how good that feels and peek out at him from the corner of my eye. His ear twitches to me and his skin shivers noticeably. He may be trying to be all business, but it’s not just his cock that’s in the mood. All of him seems to be on board and interested as much as I am.

I lick my lips with anticipation. Already, my imagination is three steps ahead, as I picture what delightful things he might do. His lips are thick and kissable, and I just know that they will feel wonderful in many places.

“Well, if that’s the case,” I whisper, “what if we make the best out of this situation we’re in and enjoy ourselves a bit?”

He glances up at me, his ears tipping forward.

“I do not understand. You wish to enjoy the situation? Have you decided to become my mate?”

I balk. Is that what he’s expecting? To go straight from sex to forever? A panicked ‘No, no, no, no,’ echoes through my mind as I struggle to find the right words to say that don’t sound like I’m only interested in using him. Because that’s not what I want.

I actually like him and want to get closer to him… I just can’t risk my heart on a promise of commitment. It’s better to go in no strings attached then be disappointed. I’m not ready for what he’s asking for. It’s just too much for me right now.

“Actually,” I manage to say around the boulder of panic lodged in my throat, “I was just thinking there’s no reason to deny the urges we have. It’s natural and all. Besides, I really do like you and just want you to know that I’m open to exploring something a little more intimate as we enjoy each other’s company.”

His eyes bore into me and I swear that there is interest in his eyes as they drift lazily over me, heating with brighter sparks of amethyst in their depths. His horn brightens, but he shakes his head.

“No?” I ask in disbelief.

Wait… He doesn’t want me now?

“No,” he agrees as he looks away to grab a cloth from the bag Grimsal left beside me.

That shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, but I feel the sharp prick of disappointment anyway even as I mentally call myself a fool. Of course he doesn’t. He didn’t choose me and is about to be free of me soon… Why the hell would he want to get closer to me when he’s experiencing an inconvenient side effect of our bond? Hell, I might be too, for all I know, but the loss I’m feeling right now is definitely real.

It’s a good reminder that I’m just not the type that attractive men choose. Wanting me because of a bond isn’t the same as just choosing to be with me because he wants to be… and I’m selfish enough to want the latter. I want him to choose me because he wants to be with me regardless of how long it lasts. For once, I want to be chosen for me and not as a means to an end.

I blink back the tears that threaten to spill and smile as he begins to wipe me down in a very clinical manner. I’m left to my confusion as he removes the rest of the poultice. He rinses the rag under a stream of water he pours from a pouch, before wringing it out and storing it once more. Only then does he meet my eyes again.

“Make no mistake, ahandral, you are mine for as long as this bond exists between us, and I want you with every fiber of my being, but what you offer me is impossible. I want forever—not just for now. To accept less devalues the ahandral magic between us, lessens my worth as well as yours because of that. You are not just any female to me, and I can’t pretend that you are. That I am so easy to pick up and set aside like any other male is painful, but I accept it since you’ve been clear as to what you want. It is better to not know your touch than to be toyed with and set aside. That would be cruel and wound me worse than what the naga had planned for me. So, as it stands, I can’t lay with you. I am sorry. But I will be here for you and protect you and care for you. I can give you everything except that.”

I stare at him speechless as he stands and extends a hand to me. Uncertain of what else to do, I put my hand in his and allow him to pull me to my feet. Although I still ache, I can at least move and so don’t struggle too much while pulling my pants back up and slipping my arms back into my shirt. It was probably foolish to even consider sex considering how tender I am right now, but now I feel even worse.

Because he’s right. As much as I like him and want to be intimate with him—and man do I want to in the worse way—I can’t excuse the fact that as things stand right now I would still be doing it with every intention of walking away from him. I hate that I even entertained the thought of doing that, and am embarrassed for it.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur as I finish dressing as fast as possible.

He doesn’t say anything, but when I’m fully dressed, I face Eliph only to find him once again in his fetch form, his eyes watching me. I don’t know what else to say to him and feel an inexplicable sharp pressure in my heart that makes my breath ragged and my eyes tear. It is ridiculous that his silent rebuke in his fetch form is affecting me so strongly, but I can’t help but feel like something is damaged now between us that I can’t see a way of mending. Thankfully, I’m saved from having to come up with something to break the silence that has fallen between us when Grimsal bursts through the trees. He takes one look at us and nods.

“Looks like we’re ready to get going, then,” he remarks.

“It seems so,” I agree quietly.

Eliph takes position at my left as Grimsal falls in at my right, sandwiching me between the goblin and unicorn as we start out again.

Chapter 20

Eliph

Even in my fetch form, I ache for my mate in more ways than one. When she made the offer to be intimate with me, no matter how much I wanted it, it hurt so much that for a moment I couldn’t breathe. It pains my heart that in many ways she’s still rejecting me. I had hoped that despite it being only a couple of days that she might have begun to develop feelings for me. Now I feel foolish for even hoping for that and try to content myself with the knowledge that she is now beginning to see a desirable male and not just one she wishes to be rid of. It is some progress, but it still feels like a knife lodged deep into my heart.

I am not sure if she can tell the way I am feeling or not. If she mentally reached out to me, she would have known that I am swinging between devastated and needy, but I am also glad that she does not since I do not want her to know how vulnerable her statement made me feel. Let her think it is nothing more than what I said and that I wasn’t gutted by my lovely magic-bonded mate.

Despite the pain her words have brought me, part of me still wants to accept her offer with the hope that, if I give her enough pleasure, she will never wish to part from me. My body urges me to do it, attempting to convince my mind and injured heart that this indeed will work.

Unfortunately, I have come to understand my lovely mate too well already. She is too untrusting. All the pleasure in the world won’t change that, so I must swallow my hurt and be a bit wilier than that. I must fight for her—for us—with every skill I possess.

Although she desires me, she does not believe in the unfailing strength of a unicorn’s bond, of my bond to my mate. So, even though it is true that I believe it would disrespect both our bodies and our bond if I were to take her up on her offer, I also strategically deny her the easy path of just taking pleasure with me. I want her to look closer at her desire for me so that she will see the worthy, dependable mate that is in front of her…and to wholly choose me. I want a lifetime of love.

It is foolish to hope so, but I am not so easily defeated. I won’t give up until the last trick is played out to its conclusion, whatever it may be.

At my side, Steph glances around at the trees with curiosity, and I allow myself to enjoy her simple pleasure in the southern forest. It is indeed beautiful with its plum and rose-colored leaves and the delicate bloom of flowers scenting the air. It is not as beautiful as my grotto, but it is a pleasing sight.

“This place really is beautiful,” Steph observes in a soft, breath voice that seems to stroke over my wounded heart like a balm and conversely pluck at my cock rapturously as she echoes the direction of my thoughts.

“Naga lands usually are,” Grimsal replies as he draws his dagger along the sharpening stone in his hand. He points to a particularly lush bush filled with pale orange flowers alongside a creek. “Nagas are creatures of waterways, so they keep water flowing throughout their territories and maintain a vibrancy everywhere they touch. There are few places more beautiful… well, outside of unicorn grottos,” he amends with a grin.

“That would make sense then why the naga back there thinks you’re such a good fit, and why fairies would be obsessed with your magic,” she mutters. Her lips pinch together in thought, and she raises an eyebrow at the goblin. “Do fairies have a similar preoccupation with nagas?”

A delighted chuckle fills the air as Grimsal slants her an amused look.

“Certainly, if they could get away with being able to hit it, get a nibble in, and quit it. Unfortunately, female nagas rarely mate outside their species for fear of weakening their bloodlines, so there aren’t many weak targets for their magic other than their very young offspring. Even then, to my understanding, fairies don’t often attempt it. They are terrified of nagas so won’t venture into their territory to snack on one directly.”

Steph eyebrows snap up in surprise. “Seems like fairies can do a lot with numbers on their side. Is naga magic really that powerful?”

“Nah. Male nagas are just enormous. If you saw one, you would understand why,” he adds with a wink.

I huff in the goblin’s direction, the irritated blast from my nostrils loud, drawing their attention. I do not need her distracted by thoughts of large, virile nagas, even if she would be more trapped with them than what she is with me. She is my mate!

Grimsal lets out another round of laughter but takes care to sheathe his blade first. I flick an ear at him in disgust and try to ignore him. It’s a shame that he put the blade away. It would have been entertaining if the idiot accidentally stabbed himself.

My ahandral stares back at him in confusion as he laughs.

“I don’t get what’s so funny,” she mutters.

“My apologies,” Grimsal chuckles as he draws a deep, steadying breath. “Your mate here was just castigating me for teaching you about naga males. To understand why fairies are afraid of them, you have to understand that these huge male nagas are not quite as… discerning as the females of the species, mostly due to the fact that males outnumber females two to one. Fairies will avoid male nagas not only to avoid having their heads bashed in with the creatures’ armored tails, but a male naga will mate with anyone they consider strong and desirable. No fairy wants to be plucked out of the air and hidden away in his fortified burrow while he bonds to them,” he says, ending with another laugh.

“And you find that funny? That’s sick,” Steph retorts.

“Ah, but the funny part is that your male here was actually concerned that, having turned you down, you might be interested in those large males with their multiple pricks…”

Steph spins around to pin me with a disbelieving look. After she concludes gaping at me in a most disconcerting way, like I’m the biggest fool ever born, she gives a choked laugh that soon dissolves into gales of laughter. I flick my tail irritably.

It is a reasonable concern, I protest. Nagas are seductive creatures, and it would be natural for a female to be curious about one of their males. I do not wish to encourage this curiosity because, as you’ve seen, they are difficult to put off from their… courtship.

I don’t add that it is because as far as I’m concerned, she’s mine. That reason is apparent enough to both me, and Grimsal, but for whatever reason she continues to ignore our bond. As I don’t wish to anger my mate, I also try to ignore it in favor of enjoying the rich sound of her laughter.

“Yeah, I see what you mean. I definitely don’t want to be dodging a male, especially if they’re bigger. How much bigger are we talking, anyway?” she asks Grimsal, when she finally gets her amusement back under control.

“They are not like snakes. Most males are easily twice the size of the females, some bigger yet, and highly territorial, allowing only females to pass through their territory without issue. You definitely don’t want to have to avoid one of them,” the goblin snickers.

Steph lets out a breath and pats my neck.

“Don’t worry, big guy. You’re the only one I’m interested in. A male that large freaks me out just a little.”

Pleased, I snake my head around to nuzzle her, my lips brushing against her hair. She snorts and shoves my head away to pat her hair with her free hand. Her expression instantly changes to a scowl as she feels the leaves and twigs caught in her curls, and with a muttered curse she sets to untangling them from the glorious dark mass of hair as we walk.

Perhaps it was silly to be concerned about my mate being interested in a naga, but my territorial urges grow more intense the longer we are away from my grotto. Although Grimsal is correct that females rarely stray from their lands to seek mates, there have been occasions where a male naga and a unicorn clashed over a female. I have enough to be concerned with when it comes to the fairy prince’s interest in my mate; I do not wish to battle off a naga suitor as well, especially if Steph was even remotely interested in the idea of one.

Although I will make certain that no other male will have claim to her for as long as I’m around, I’m very grateful that I will not have to face a naga.

They are difficult bastards to kill.

“Well, there’s a bright side, at least,” Steph mutters between pained curses. “That means we probably don’t have to worry about being jumped by the fairies while we’re traveling through this area.”

“If they even know we’re here,” Grimsal adds. “We may be well on our way to the Heart of Wells before they manage to track us.”

I am not so optimistic, but I keep that to myself, not wishing to unduly worry my mate. Grimsal is correct that since my magic sent us to a random location, it will take the fairies longer to find my magic’s trail and track us down. I’m just not convinced that we will elude them for long. Perhaps they will not descend on us until we reach the edge of the naga territory at the mountains, but they may track our progress through the naga territories until then. Regardless, I won’t sleep or travel at ease until we pass into a grotto and are protected by the magic of its well.

Even having her walking at my side rather than safely perched on my back frays my nerves. My body twitches with hyperaware caution as I walk by her side, my skin shuddering at the slightest touch of an insect as if it were a passing fairy reaching for my ahandral mare. I draw more than one concerned look from my mate as I snap my head around uneasily, but I reassure her as much as myself with frequent nuzzles of affection.

After a few hours of walking, I am happy when Steph consents to riding again. She doesn’t look happy about it, but she goes directly to a small boulder and climbs onto it so that she can mount. Although she mumbles under her breath as she settles on my back, I can already feel an improvement in her seat. More than anything, however, I’m happy to have her safely off the ground.

I am quite certain that once our bond is sealed, I will never wish for her to walk anywhere outside of our territory. Not even in a fetch form. Knowing this anxiety over my mate’s safety is bound to have lingering consequences that few other males have had the occasion to experience.

Steph winces and shifts her bottom.

Are you okay, my heart-spark? I inquire as I brush her leg with my nose.

She blinks down at me as I lift my gaze to meet hers and gives me a wobbly smile.

“Yeah, I’m good. A little sore, but not bad. That stuff you put on me really helped, I think. Just time to get back in the saddle, so to speak,” she laughs.

Just make sure to relax, and keep your thighs and calves tight around me.

“Yeah, I know. I’m trying,” she mutters. “Just don’t do anything crazy to send me to my death, okay?”

Have I yet? I would never hurt you.

“Doesn’t mean it can’t happen, and I like to be prepared just in case.” She squints at me. “How is your vision in this form? You’re not going to spook if something jumps in front of you, are you?”

I snort in insult.

You may have to be able to ride me as you would a horse, but I’ll remind you that I am definitely not one.

“I don’t know… You could make a passable stallion to me,” she unexpectedly fires back flirtatiously, and the innuendo doesn’t escape me. I am at once relieved. I love my mate as spirited and bold as she is. And her obvious desire is good for my ego.

I smile inwardly and preen a bit at my female’s encouraging notice. Despite my rejection of her offer, she is still making a small advance and demonstrating her appreciation. Perhaps there is hope after all that she’ll come around.

Chapter 21

Steph

It’s pretty clear that Eliph is on edge. In some ways, he hasn’t been the same since our awkward discussion about sex, but I know that more than that is weighing on him. As we travel through the naga territory, he spends nearly all his time in his fetch form as if expecting an imminent attack. Despite the confidence that he seems to exude when in his fae form, he can’t hide just how uncomfortable he is. Even Grimsal’s attempts at distraction seem to be working less as one day bleeds into another and we settle into a routine of traveling during the daylight hours, with me riding Eliph a little longer each time.

I still dread the riding part. Although the pain is more manageable, especially with the help of Eliph and Grimsal’s magic goop, I’m still having a hard time controlling my anxiety when mounted. Although I know Eliph isn’t a beast and won’t just throw me in a sudden state of panic, I can’t seem to work past that fear. And in turn, it makes me feel guilty as hell because he obviously prefers to carry me. It’s just a thing for him… I would even go as far as saying that he enjoys it, which is hard for me to wrap my mind around since I’m not exactly a featherweight.

Don’t get me wrong—I love my curves. I’m made thick and beautiful. But I’m also not the one carrying me around for what’s now three to four hours a day. I can’t even bring myself to object because other than his obvious enthusiasm for it, it’s also the only time that he’s even a little relaxed. It’s as if just having me on his back satisfies some need in him.

Knowing that his species usually carries their mates off to the safety of their grottos, I can’t say I’m surprised. Even sitting on his back as I am now, I can feel the occasional ripple of tension through him as if he’s battling temptation to just bolt and get me away from all of this as soon as possible.

On one hand, it’s flattering, but it also makes me feel worse about the entire situation we’re in because I can imagine that denying instinct has got to be rough. I mean, I give him props for denying an obvious hard on—as much as that really sucked—but denying rampant lust and sheer ingrained instinct are two different things. I don’t help matters with the former, and the latter is all for me.

It’s both crazy and terribly sweet.

And because of that, things have been awkward between us over the last few days. It’s not like he ignores me or anything. In some ways, there’s no real discernible change in our interactions. He still talks with me, whether just being sweet, relaying information, or joking around as he’s always done. Everything seems normal—except that it’s not. I feel an invisible wall has come between us. I’m pretty sure that he feels it too, and that’s putting additional strain on him. A combination of stress and something unfulfilled—whether sexually or emotionally, I don’t even really know—between us that is just hanging in the balance. I try to ignore it because Eliph does, but I wonder how long that will last before we have to deal with it.

As Eliph walks at a rapid clip, I squint at the looming purple mountains with a sense of relief. Another day or so and we’ll be out of the forests and heading up into the mountains. Although I have no idea what lurks on the other side, I’ll be happy to leave the nagas’ forests behind me. I take a deep breath of the perfumed air and smile at the sight of the towering stone. Grimsal catches my expression and grins up at me as he jogs at a casual pace beside us.

“Relieved to be leaving the naga lands, are you?” he teases.

“As pretty as it is, it’s not exactly where I would want to make my vacation home,” I reply tartly. “I’m just thankful that we haven’t run into any others. One naga is more than enough to last me for a lifetime.”

For me as well, Eliph mutters, his ears twisting back and to the side, listening. I will be happy when we finally cross into the mountains.

I stretch a little to ease the tightness in my lower back and frown at the mountain in front of us.

“Do you think we’ll be there tomorrow?”

His nostrils expand, scenting the air as he does every so often, and he gives a jerky nod of his head, his silky mane fluttering over my hands.

Yes. I suspect we will be in the mountains sometime tomorrow afternoon or early evening at the latest.

I pass that information to the goblin, and he just grimaces and nods his head in agreement.

“We might even arrive a bit earlier—barring any sort of disaster, that is,” he adds.

“Don’t go saying shit like that! What’s wrong with you?” I demand. “For fuck’s sake, does no one know the rules around here?”

He scratches his jaw and glances over at Eliph. “I didn’t know that there were all that many rules for speaking, aside from the grammatical ones that we just leave and take as we like. And, of course, for the use of names because that can be some powerful magic, there.”

“Saying bad things and sending out that intention into the universe will bring that bad shit right on you,” I explain.

How can magical beings not know this? Worse, he’s looking at me like I’ve just spouted nonsense compared to all the shit that he spews regularly.

He snorts and shakes his head, his eyes dancing with amusement as he shakes a finger at me.

“Not unless you put some power behind it. Words can do all that if you bespeak it. I did not, so there’s nothing to worry about,” he replies helpfully. “If you are interested in learning a bit about magic, this is a fine time to start, what with the unicorn magic flowing through you. After this bond is done away with, you might retain enough glimmer to be able to use it.”

I draw up short. Do magic? Me? Sure, my sister has her tarot cards, but I always considered myself the practical one who didn’t need magic and fantasy to get by when hard work just does fine. But it speaks to something within me that remembers that yearning for the magical and impossible before my father got sick, when I realized that there was no magic that would keep him with me. He was no longer at my side as we walked on the park trails searching for signs of unicorns. He’d been the one to read to me of the legends and nurtured my belief in magic.

After he died, he took my belief with him. There was no more magic, just the part-time job after school that I took to help Mama pay the bills. The only magic I believed in was the love Mama and Daddy shared, and Darrel did a fine job of stealing that.

I know that kind of miraculous, all-powerful magic is just a dream. Even Eliph admitted that he couldn’t outright heal someone like that. But I can’t deny that I still want it. I can feel something restless within me that’s eager to burst free, a powerful spark deep within me that’s so alien it scares me as much as it entices. It may be a silly thing to waste time on when we are clearly in a hurry with something far more important. But if that kind of magic is real, perhaps the sort of love I hoped to have is real too?

There is no shame in wishing for magic, Eliph murmurs.

As usual he knows exactly what’s going on in my head when he’s in this form due to what he calls the telepathic links that the fetch form manifests with other unicorns. Since I’m his mate, that means me too. Unlike other times, however, this time his instant knowledge of exactly what I’m feeling—and the directions of my thoughts—doesn’t freak me out. Instead, it’s strangely comforting. He doesn’t know my exact thoughts since I’m not giving them to him, but he can sense my yearning and he’s offering me what I want so that I can accept it without guilt.

I could kiss him. A long leisurely kiss at that.

“Are you sure?” I whisper uncertainly, my wants still battling against the fierce determination of all the responsibility that I shouldered since my youth. “If we don’t have time for it…”

His ear flicks at me, and laughter tumbles musically through my mind.

I scent water some distance up ahead. A lot of it, and the faint sound of a waterfall. It will be a good place to stop for tonight. I can teach you a few things that work with the waters of my well that applies to any body of water. It will be a good mental exercise while we prepare to rest.

“If your unicorn is offering to show you a thing or two, that would be a rare treat that only a fool would turn down,” Grimsal opined.

That decides it—because he’s right. My daddy would be appalled if I turned down this sort of opportunity, considering how many parks within driving distance I dragged him through in my quest. I chuckle at the memory, and a weight that had gone unnoticed for so long in my chest lightens.

“All right, I can hardly pass that up,” I agree. “On one condition,” I add and point a finger at the goblin. “That you sit on your hands or do whatever it is that you have to do to keep yourself from participating in my magic lesson.”

Eliph chuckles in my mind, and I give him an answering grin even as the goblin scowls, his lips pinching together. Finally, he tosses up his hands and huffs plaintively.

“Oh, fine! Too damn quick, you are,” he mutters and squints at me. “Are you sure you’re not part goblin somewhere in your ancestry?”

“I’m going to pretend you mean that as a compliment,” I reply, my lips quirking, “but no, there are no green men or women in my family tree.”

He lifts a thick eyebrow. “Oh, is that all that’s turning you off of my obvious charm? That can be fixed easily.”

He drops his hands down his face, and suddenly I’m looking at a good-looking man with an olive complexion. His features are close to the same, except that when he smiles, he now has human teeth, and the tips of his ears are rounded. A shadow of stubble on his jaw gives him a sort of bad boy appeal, and all that dark, thick hair and bright green eyes… Okay, there aren’t many women who wouldn’t be tripping over themselves for his attention when he looks like this.

I don’t quite realize that I’m gaping until he chuckles. There’s a lusty sort of amusement to it that has me snapping my mouth closed and placing a calming hand on Eliph’s neck when a displeased rumble vibrates through him.

“I do cut quite a nice figure as a human, don’t I?” Grimsal preens.

And it’s all illusion, Eliph remarks. His magic has to be used constantly to maintain it. He can make the illusion last for a few hours to charm a female into his bed, unaware of what he is.

“Can you cast illusions?” I ask Eliph curiously.

“Ah, he’s telling on me, I see,” Grimsal retorts with a loud bark of laughter as he resumes his normal appearance. “Most of the long-lived fae can do at least some kind of minor illusion, not so much the common fae like the orcs, trolls, and werewolves. They have few among them that can master more than rudimentary magic, thank the gods. No one needs trolls and orcs running wild with such power.”

“Oh, but a goblin is perfectly trustworthy with it?” I counter.

“Perhaps not so much,” he agrees merrily. “But you will find that’s why goblins tend to be the most loathed among the fae, and we rather delight in that infamy. At least we are not magical prudes like your unicorn there.”

Eliph flicks his tail, and the goblin stumbles with the force of it hitting him in the back of his head.

Unicorns are not magical prudes, as he puts it, Eliph rumbles with distaste. We just do not flaunt our magic or use it excessively except when we must. We honor the balance of the wells in this way. Our illusions tend to be simpler, redirecting travelers away from our grottos or making our appearance more mundane, like one from a race of elves, so that we are able to hide what we are. We also try to be honest and fair with what we give when it comes to our magic, rather than relying on the cheap tricks of illusions that goblins utilize.

“Being a bit reserved with your magic doesn’t sound like prudery to me. You don’t feel the need to flaunt or waste power indiscriminately, even though you have it.”

“Except to materialize real money,” the goblin cut in, his eyes shining. “You will waste plenty of magic unnecessarily replicating currency. So don’t act as if your magic is all so holy,” he snickers.

I scowl down at the goblin. “And I suppose that you just make an illusion of coins with what? Bits of junk from your pocket? Just as temporary as the mask of human attractiveness, and yet stealing from hardworking people.”

Grimsal blinks at the vehemence in my voice, but I have no patience for cheats. My ex was a cheat, looking to gain everything with false promises, and I’ve known what it’s like to be poor and working some thankless job where every penny is absolutely necessary.

“I don’t suppose it occurs to you that the people you cheat are the ones who have to pay for your foolish games? That money comes out of their pockets when it comes back short. So don’t go getting smug about Eliph wasting magic on currency. It seems to me that he’s far more honorable and discerning in how he uses his power. It doesn’t hurt people.”

Grimsal wilts a bit, obviously stung, and I dislike feeling like the “angry woman who will tear you a new asshole” type that everyone seems happy to pin on me. But as much as I hate the way he thinks sometimes—like now—I want to see better from him. Beneath all his bluster, wit, and sharp tongue, a good male is hiding that I see peek through every now and then, like at the inn, or even with his patience in helping me with my riding. I know it’s unlikely that he will be anything less than contrary—that’s just his nature—but I’m hoping that he will think more about his actions before he cheats someone like that.

“If you have to steal from someone, at least make sure they’re loaded and can afford it,” I add under my breath.

Do not encourage him, Ahandral, Eliph sighs. His kind doesn’t understand any sort of temperance.

“I don’t believe in a ‘kind,’” I shoot back pleasantly. “Too many people want to pigeonhole folks into this kind or that instead of recognizing that we’re all just people. I’ve got faith in Grimsal to at least consider showing some discretion when it comes to those he fleeces.”

Our goblin friend strokes his chin and gives me a cheeky smile.

“It’s worth mulling over, at least,” he agrees. “Typically, in ages of old we did aid the humble people when they called on us to level the playing field, so to speak, but it is not something I’ve considered actively taking on. We’re an equal opportunity lot unless directly petitioned… but I do like this concept. Reminds me of the old heroic tales of my grandsire Robin of the Red Hood,” he says with a cheerful touch to the brim of his hat. “The family often likes to recount how he ravished the nobility of old Nottinghamshire.”

“Robin Hood?” I deadpan skeptically as I stare down at him from Eliph’s high back. “Are you just pulling my leg, or are you really trying to convince me that Robin Hood was fae and your grandfather?”

Grimsal snorts, keeping up without any effort or breathlessness as he begins to spin his story without so much as breaking stride.

“Humans! Your legends forget everything—even the best details. Of course he was fae! How many humans could truly be so crafty and wily and not get caught? He was a red hat—or red hood back then—goblin. Some locals called him up with their last bit of corn, begging for assistance with the terrible taxation. Well, Robin, also called Robin Goodfellow in those parts that understood that he was indeed part of the fae courts, had a good heart like many goblins do. This was well before our worlds parted for good, you understand, and all of us were under the power of the elf courts that held sway of those places connecting our worlds. They weren’t too pleased with Robin’s alliance with the human serfs in his attacks, and it was soon after that they elected to close the portals so that no goblin or lesser fae would be able to interfere in the human world, as they tell it.”

“Are you saying that Robin Hood, a hero of the people, is who caused the portals between the worlds to close?”

“In part,” Grimsal admits with a small smile. “There were quite a few naughty fae pillaging without leave from the elvish courts.” He chuckles. “But at least Robin wasn’t just making mischief for the sake of it—though the king of the Lorandral Mountain didn’t see it quite so magnanimously. That’s where we’re heading, you know, good old Lorandral Mountain. I wonder what our reception will be like,” he speculates happily.

Elves!

Despite Grimsal’s scathing tone when speaking of them, I can’t believe I might actually see an elf. Outside of unicorns, elves and pixies are near the top of the list of my childhood fantasies. What girl didn’t get at least a little dreamy over one elf or another? I’m not going to admit to some of the fantasies I’ve had over Thranduil, and how many times I watched The Hobbit mostly to admire him. The fact that they don’t lust after unicorn magic—a disappointing fact that naturally and quite reasonably killed any enjoyment over the existence of fairies for me—just sells me more on spending time among them.

You are excited, ahandral, Eliph teases. Perhaps I should have tempted you with visiting the elvish courts to begin with.

I let out a laugh since that comment is a fair observation.

“It certainly is a great motivation to get into the mountains. No naga ambushes to worry about, and we’ll probably be protected from fairies once we’re within their borders… Right?”

Eliph steps lightly as he crests a small hill, his thoughts falling silent in consideration as he makes his way along what appears to be a winding path cut through the undergrowth.

Yes and no, he says after some contemplation. No, we will not be able to hide from their presence, since fairies travel freely through elvish kingdoms, as do most fae whom they consider their subjects, but yes, we will be safe. Fairies will not try to attack another fae without the permission of the court within elvish territory.

I bite my lip thoughtfully as I stare up at the rising slope of the mountain up ahead.

“Maybe we should just keep going and not stop,” I suggested.

I hate the thought of missing out on a magic lesson but the possibility of safety among the elves—and elves in general—makes me eager to keep pushing forward until we are well away from this forest.

“Not a good idea,” Grimsal mutters. “We should take what rest we can. Elves, while sporting a stick up their collective asses most times, are as unpredictable as any fae. I don’t wish to encounter them without being fully rested and alert.”

I open my mouth to object, because we’re clearly just as vulnerable out in the open in this forest.

Grimsal is right. Let’s rest before we go any farther. I can feel your weariness, even though you try to hide it from me. We will stop for the night, and then tomorrow we will begin to make our way up the mountain with our wits fully about us.

I sigh and grudgingly agree. I suppose another night in this forest can be tolerated, especially with the promise of magic. Still, it doesn’t stop the nervous shiver of anticipation mixed with dread that skirts up my back. I’m not certain of the source, but as peaceful as our journey has been over the last several days, I am certain that the other shoe is bound to drop soon.

Chapter 22

Steph

I have to hand it to the guys—the waterfall is gorgeous. As far as campsites go, it’s the best one we’ve set up yet. Although the water is loud, it falls into a large crystalline, rocky basin that feeds into two different rivers that branch from it. The bank transitions from sand and rock to a soft pink moss bed before it’s eventually taken over by grasses and brush.

That mossy surface is clearly where we’re going to bed down for the night because Eliph strides to the sandy shoreline just in front of a particularly large ledge of moss and begins to make a fire. His tail flicks against the cushiony pink growth, and I’m tempted to grab it just to see what happens.

I press my lips together and swallow back my laughter as I imagine him bolting upright in surprise if I gave it a good squeeze and yank. He makes some catlike sounds. Would he yowl like a kitty with its tail caught under a rocking chair? I wouldn’t pull that hard, but it does give me a mental giggle imagining him leaping up and preparing to bolt at the contact.

From the left bank, Grimsal shouts happily and tugs on the line wrapped tightly around a small flat piece of wood. When I first saw him pull it out of a small pouch hanging from his belt, I hadn’t given it much thought since it didn’t look any more impressive than a spool of thread. Maybe I should have joined Campfire Scouts, or Girl Scouts maybe—something—because then I might not have been so shocked to see the goblin yanking on that same string with a fat fish fighting against it on the other end.

“Looks like I’ve got dinner! I hope you like fish!” he shouts out to me.

He’s half-soaked with water from the river from all his splashing along the bank, but he looks pretty damned pleased with himself, so I find that I’m grinning back at his antics.

“After several nights of eating nothing but roast rabbits, a sorry-looking pheasant, and a couple of questionable eggs that definitely didn’t come from a chicken, I will love fish!” I shout back at him, earning a wild laugh of delight from the goblin.

A bit of flour, some grease, and proper seasonings and we could have a fish fry, but I don’t mention that. As much as I would love to sit down to a home-cooked meal, I know I can’t be too choosy when we have almost nothing in supplies outside of what the males have on them—and in the goblin’s case, the few things he was able to lift from the inn without the proprietress knowing.

I shake my head at him and start grabbing what dry sticks I can find closest to the brush. What I find is mostly thicker twigs and pitifully thin branches that likely fell due to a storm, but I find a lot of them. So I bring back armful after armful, piling the wood near where Eliph is crouched. He looks up to give me a grateful smile, his tail skimming my thigh in a way that gives me more than one erotic thought that makes my pussy pulse with desire before turning his attention to feeding the small fire he started.

Terrible flirt.

By the time I’ve got enough wood beside him to last at least a few hours until we’re ready to sleep, I can feel my muscles protesting despite the way my body is humming eagerly from the small touches of his tail against my hip or leg, or his hand upon mine. Sadly, it is not enough to fully distract me from the pain that’s ruthlessly tightening my muscles into spasms of agony by the time I drop down beside Eliph. Although my ass and thighs ache the most, I’m surprised to discover that my stomach and abs are not screaming at me. Of course, that means little right now because in the morning I’ll be tight and miserable from sore, overexerted muscles.

For right now, however, the pain that I do have is manageable, and so I don’t do more than wince when I sit. His ear turns toward me, letting me know that he’s aware of my presence, something which is thrilling alone, but I’m surprised when his arm loops around me and tuck me gently against his side.

There is something so possessive in his touch that it makes us both tense with uncertainty. Even so, I don’t hesitate to lean into his embrace and tuck my nose into his neck. It’s strange that I feel so safe and loved as he holds me. And I do love his smell. It’s like some sort of exotic tea that Mama favors whenever they pop up in her tea of the month club. As much as that woman loves a strong cup of coffee—a trait she passed down to both of her daughters—she has a weakness for tea. The smell is associated with so many good feelings for me that I can’t seem to get enough of it coming from his warm body. As I melt against him, it occurs to me that it’s possible that this is part of his magic that works to tie a female to him, but right now I don’t even care. I just want to enjoy this affectionate closeness between us. I hadn’t realized just how much I missed it or how much he’d been withholding himself over the last few days.

His lips brush my hair as I sink into his warmth, his fur luxuriously silky against my skin. He begins to knead and massage the muscles of my arm as he holds me close to him, drawing out soft moans from me as he works on a particular knotted spot.

“Are you in pain? I can speak to Grimsal about making a fresh batch of the poultice for you.”

I shake my head against his chest. I’m a little sore, but right now I just want to enjoy my time with Eliph without him pulling away from me while he’s massaging the goop into my limbs. I’ve discovered that I really hate it when he does that. Even though his body still reacts while he massages the stiffness from mine, there’s about as much intimacy going on between us as if he were massaging his own sister. His body might react, but nothing else is present, and that is frustrating for me when it lights me up like a fourth of July display. I like this closeness too much to give it up already. Not even for a massage.

“Not right now,” I mumble.

“Are you planning on falling asleep on me, Ahandral?” he teases.

The corner of my mouth tips, and I squint up at him awkwardly from where I’m mashed against his large body.

“Would it bother you so much if I did?”

I feel him shift and lift my eyes to watch as he tilts his head back to the sky, his glowing horn vivid as it illuminates his face. He breathes deeply, his chest expanding.

“No, I like you here,” he replies, “so long as you choose to be.”

I smile against his skin and allow myself to relax completely into him. No expectations, no worries. It’s just the two of us leaning against each other—or more like me draped over him—as the day starts to fade around us.

Through slitted eyes, I watch as Grimsal works to spit the fish over our fire. The loud, popping sizzle of fat hitting the fire wakes my stomach up, and it growls expectantly. I pat my belly, silently telling it to hush without so much as easing a fraction of the dead weight I’m putting on Eliph. If it bothers him at all, he gives no indication. Rather, I suspect it can’t bother him too much since his arm is still holding me tight.

My eyelids start to drift shut when he jostles me awake with the slight nudge of his shoulder. I blink up at him, first in confusion and then in concern as it dawns on me that there might be a very good reason for him wanting to rouse me. Before I can work myself up, however, he slides a comforting hand down my back.

“It’s okay, Ahandral. I did not mean to startle you, but you mentioned wanting to work some magic tonight. You are tired so it will only be a small session… Unless you would rather sleep,” he adds with an indulgent smile.

Oh, right. Magic!

I push myself upright, palming the sleep from my eyes even as I battle yawns. I could easily sleep but it can at least wait until after the magic lesson!

“No, I’m awake. Let’s do the magic thing,” I reply excitedly.

I’m sure the grin I offer him is tired, but what it lacks in energy it makes up for in enthusiasm because Eliph chuckles and draws me to my feet as we stand. My stomach dips at the warm feel of his hand on mine, but it quickly disappears beneath another hungry growl. The smell of the cooking fish is wonderful, but he doesn’t allow us to linger. I only briefly see Grimsal grinning us before Eliph draws me over to the water basin.

He doesn’t stop, though, at a safe distance. He’s tugging me over to the water’s edge as if he intends to get in. I’m not a huge fan of sitting in a pool of water outside, but the water looks clean enough—nothing dead floating on top at least. Looks like we’re going in.

I don’t realize that he’s magicked away his clothes until I look over to ask him if I should get undressed. My tongue glues to the roof of my mouth as I watch the light from the setting sun glance off the planes of his muscles. Even his cock, hanging heavily between his legs, looks pearly with the fading sunlight gleaming off him.

He raises an eyebrow at me questioningly, and I notice it’s because I’ve come to a full stop as I gawk at him. His lips twitch as I wrench my gaze away from his swelling cock and focus only on the beautiful angles of his face. Thick abalone-colored eyelashes that frame his brilliant purple eyes blink at me, and a quiver skips through my belly at just how incredibly beautiful he is. He’s raw masculinity and ancient elegance all rolled into one.

His smile slowly grows, and he tips his head in a small gesture toward me.

“Your clothes, my heart-spark. You may wish to remove them to avoid soaking them.”

I blink. What was that? My clothes…

“Oh, right,” I laugh nervously. “I definitely don’t want to sleep in wet clothes.”

I’m a little nervous as I strip off my pants and shirt because he’s never actually seen me fully naked outside of the spots that he bared to rub in the healing poultice. His eyes slide appreciatively over the slope of my shoulders before drifting down to the generous round globes of my breasts tipped with dark nipples that tighten on his casual inspection. A flutter in my belly follows his gaze as it rests on the swell of my stomach before dipping down to the thatch of dark curls at the junction of my thighs. Each flutter is followed by a hot path of desire that floods me. His fingers twitch at his sides and I wonder if he’s going to reach for me, but he doesn’t.

Instead, Eliph takes a deep breath and steps back to politely hold out his hand as if he’s doing nothing more than acting as a gentlemanly escort. I squint at him—because that’s just a little weird to me—but I set my hand in his and allow him to draw me after him as he backs into the pool.

The water is shockingly cool as it touches my skin, but not unbearably so. As I wade in, I’m able to adjust to it well enough until we’re thigh deep. Or rather, the water laps around my thighs and ass, whereas it only comes to mid-thigh on him, his cock bobbing lightly on the surface, but I’m not going to split hairs or even object. Because that is quite a blessed sight to behold.

“Eyes to mine,” he murmurs, and my gaze snaps up guiltily as a hot flush races over my cheeks.

Caught crotch staring—damn.

Laughter rumbles from him, and he lifts a hand to stroke his fingers down my cheek, sending another fiery trail kissing over my skin.

“Do not be embarrassed. It is natural, as you pointed out before. But right now, I want you to forget everything. Just look into my eyes and concentrate on the feel of the water around you… We are going to speak to it and draw up its power. Are you ready?”

“Okay, yeah. Focus on the water… I can do that,” I reply, my words nearly tripping over each other with nerves.

I really don’t know what I’m embarrassed about. Maybe it’s a fear of fucking up with an audience, or worse, fucking up in front of him of all people.

“There’s no one here but us, and I am your other half. The other part of your heartbeat. Feel me here only as an extension of you and drop your senses to the water itself. Feel the cold swirl of it brushing you as it dances. It is always moving and always full of life,” he says.

I nod and close my eyes. I can feel the pressure of his fingers and the heat of his body but I dismiss them as a part of me, just as he says, as I allow my senses to narrow until all of my focus is there around my pelvis and legs. With my focus, I notice now that the water is brushing the mouth of my sex, making me quiver in reaction. It feels like it’s seeping into me and flowing out of me all at once through the connection points of my lower body.

“Feel the water as a part of you now. Send a little of that power out of you to connect to it. The water is an extension of yourself and your power. It is the vessel of magic and life.”

“Okay,” I whisper as I seek out that wild spark that came to life in me since the day Eliph came into my life. I need to become one with it, in a sense, to send it out of me and connect with my outer world as Eliph instructs.

I’m afraid of it because it is as wild and fickle as any horse, and just brings back my insecurities when dealing with the creatures.

“Eliph, I don’t think I can…” I say with worry. “It’s too big. Too aggressive. I don’t think I can control it.”

“Shh, of course you can,” he responds softly, a note of tenderness in his voice. “It is yours to direct and take into your keeping. It will answer to you because it knows you and is bonded to you. It knows you are worthy to trust. You can ride this magic. Trust me.”

My eyes skate up to meet his, and my breath gets lodged in my chest for a terrible moment before I’m able to exhale. It dawns on me that he’s comparing my fear of my lack of control over this magic with my fear of him and my fear of riding. I learn this control and I can finally set that fear behind me.

A shiver races through me, but I don’t drop my gaze from his.

Yes, I want this liberation. To not be afraid anymore so that I can embrace anything I want with both hands. It’s so clear to me right now.

“Okay, I’ll trust myself with it as I trust you,” I whisper, my eyes fluttering half-shut as his purple eyes shine with emotion.

I don’t pause to dwell on that, however. I slip into myself, toward that well of magic within me that took root there. That bright spark of magic deep within me coils and pulses. Now that I’ve settled my mind near it, it feels far vaster and more powerful than I realized. This isn’t a tiny gem of magic or a pebble of power thrown into me. This is a vast sea beyond my comprehension pooling within me and responding to my first tentative touch to it.

It rips through me like a current as it fills my consciousness, and I gasp from the blinding presence of it. I can’t see, breathe, or hear without that power present coiling through everything within and around me.

“Control it,” Eliph says, his voice piercing through the chaos, providing safe harbor.

I cling to it, to his presence as I shudder and struggle with the twisting coils of it.

“It is a part of you,” he reminds me, his voice hard, no longer the sweet male I knew just moments before but uncompromisingly powerful.

A part of me. It doesn’t feel that way as it snaps like a heavy coil of a serpent’s tail. The only way this would be a part of me is if it were like the blood pounding through my veins. I’ve never been on blood pressure medicine, though it’s probable I would be if that connection was accurate, but it’s the only one that comes to mind. It thumps through me, pulsing, beating hard as I direct everything to that imagery. I feel like my heart is about to explode with the pressure, and I gasp for breath when it finally slams through once more before settling into a hum in the background, filling my veins.

I let out a shaky breath and open my eyes wide at the sensation of allowing all that power to merge with me completely rather than rest coiled and caged inside of the deepest parts of me. I look around with that sense of wonder until I hear Eliph speak again, his voice drawing me, tantalizingly.

“Now with that power, feel the magic within the water. Connect with it. Join with it as a part of you.”

I close my eyes again, seeking once more that sensation of the water kissing my skin, slicking against the folds of my sex. I shiver with desire and want, need crawling under my skin when Eliph leans close and his hot breath fans against my neck.

“Good. Touch it, ask it to dance for you. Draw it up around you,” he whispers.

Thousands, millions—perhaps billions—of tiny sparks within the water light up in my mind’s eye as I cajole them to answer to my call, to lift with my power. The little sparks rise up in my mind’s eye and begin to shift around me, moving higher as their dance becomes more frenzied. A joyful laugh bursts from me as I feel each dewy star kiss along my skin and a subtle rush of current whipping around me.

“Steph, open your eyes, my heart-spark,” Eliph murmurs.

My eyes fly open to see an expanse of glowing drops of water swirling around me, dancing as they rise like a vortex into the air. The water drops catch the fading sunlight, making them glitter and refract the rays, but each also contains the glowing green-blue sparks that make up the essence of every drop that’s risen to my call.

“Oh, Eliph,” I whisper in awe.

“This is part of our magic,” he murmurs into my ear. “This is unicorn magic.”

A shaky laugh escapes me, one filled with an unimagined happiness.

“This is everything… everything I’ve ever imagined,” I choke out.

It’s beautiful… If only Daddy could have seen me here now. This was what I knew all those years ago that I was meant for. Magic trails through my hair, damp locks curling against my neck. I can see the flickers of light against my skin like stars shining against a field of night. I feel a part of the magic.

Ride the magic indeed! I am the magic!

All the lessons click into place about moving with Eliph when riding, not tensing or resisting… It all makes sense. I’ve been afraid to risk losing myself to such a close connection, to allow anything in ever since my father died. As much as Darrel’s betrayal hurt, it was a small wound on top of a deeper pain—a deeper fear. But now I see it and I feel the smile stretching my lips.

Magic flowing all around and through me, I laugh, my heart bursting with joy.

Chapter 23

Eliph

I watch the magic from the pool dance all around my mate, alternately joining with her and slipping back out of her skin again. With her dark curls framing her face, she looks like a primal goddess from the earliest times, the first who established the sacred wells. I can believe that when I look upon my mate and I am filled with wonder.

In all my years, I never understood why unicorns were all born male. It seemed like the worst of divine punishments, but now, looking upon my mate discovering and joining with my magic, I think I see a glimmer of what was promised to us.

Just as a unicorn upon maturing must seek out the well waters that they feel the magic bond with, we must likewise seek her out, the perfect one born for us from the Heart of Wells, given by the mother of all wells. Seeking out our mates is like seeking that eternal flow of magic and seeing it clearly for the first time. To mate is to join with the Heart of the Well in an entirely different way… Through love.

And I do love her. Although the mating bond assures a certain amount of attachment, how can I not love her? I love her fiery temper, and her sassy mouth, the way her mind works… and I love her now as she embraces the truth of herself and frees herself. She is most glorious in those moments above all.

I love her and desire her above any other being in creation.

I feel my cock harden as the magic pulls tauter between us, my testicles tightening with pleasure as the magic whips harder. Violet sparks of light shine in my ahandral mare’s eyes as they fall upon me, and her laughter quiets to a soft smile as she faces me.

Lifting a hand, I reach for her, skimming my fingers down her cheek. I know that she has made no promises and that she still might decide to sever the bond between us, but I can’t resist the smallest taste of what a unicorn was born to someday know.

Drawing her in slowly, I feather my lips against hers, the magic weaving and dancing between us, sharing from my breath to hers. A soft moan parts her lips, and I take advantage of it to glide my tongue against her mouth and plunge within the offered depths.

Steph rocks against me, and I drink in her gasp of wonder as my tongue finds hers and explores, an erotic dance that makes me grind my hips against hers, my cock heavy and aching with unspent need. I have only one thought—that Grimsal had better not be watching if he knew what was good for him—before that too was carried away on a powerful current of magic-fed need. All I know is her… Her taste, the soft give of her flesh beneath my hands as I hold her tight to me, and the sound of her sighs and moans muffled against my lips.

My ear twitches, pivoting toward a sharp, cracking sound just as Grimsal shouts. His bellow is cut off by a heavy crash and I spin around, tucking my mate behind me as I stare at the source of the commotion. I draw in a deep breath, my eyes widening as I spy the one thing I had hoped to avoid with my mate vulnerable and out in the open. A tremor of aggression runs through me as I lower my head in challenge.

I know what he wants, and he will not have her!

The large naga male stares back at me, his tongue flickering. Although I have never had the occasion to see a male of the species, if we had to meet one, he is, without a doubt, the worst-case scenario.

A royal naga, the largest of the male breeds, he towers over Grimsal’s limp form hanging from his hands. His tongue flicks out, his head turning toward me, and I know exactly what has drawn him—who he has scented. I stiffen in rage, my eyes taking in the enormous tail that sweeps the ground around him. His humanoid fae parts are not as big as the serpentine tail, but even they are twice my size, massive even when compared to the largest of orcs.

As if knowing that he’s an intimidating sight, he smiles at me, showing his long, dangerous fangs. He turns so that the heavy, formidable gold scaling on his side, arms, back, and even along his jaws and forehead catches the light, attempting to intimidate. He knows that he is powerful, perhaps the most dangerous thing in these woods. His only extravagance appears to lay in the long, burnished bronze hair that hangs down his back in multitudes of braids.

“I smell her. Give her to me,” he hisses. “I know who you are, unicorn. I know you dishonored my sister. You will return to her keep, and I will be taking your sweet-smelling female.”

“Oh, hell the fuck no,” Steph croaks behind me, gripping my forearm tight.

I twist out of her grip and take a step away as I draw the magic of the water around me with every movement. Once I am certain that I am far enough away to not harm my mate, I burst forward, drawing my fetch form around me on the run as I charge and leap, my hooves kicking through the water that spins around me to fly toward the naga.

He roars at the impact of the water crashing into him, but I do not wait for any other opening. I twist through the air, my head down as I ram into the male with all my strength, my horn white-hot with magic that makes it not unlike a burning lance.

A violent snarl cuts through the air, and his heavy coils slap around me, attempting to crush me or break my spine. With the pool’s magic still racing around me, it muffles his blows, transferring the energy into me, strengthening me. I jab again with my horn, feeling another spurt of blood, and suddenly the coils slip free and release me as the male hisses in pain.

Blinking the blood that has dripped down from my horn out of my eyes, I turn my head toward the naga and am forced to look up to see the male half-coiled in the height of the tree above us. Blood streams down from a tender spot at the joint of his arm and shoulder and again from his hip. His green eyes burn down at me, but there’s also humility there as he inclines his head submissively and withdraws, his coils following him higher and deeper into the trees.

Tucking my head down against my chest so that my horn is stretched out lethally before me, I rear up in obvious threat, a bellow of challenge issuing from my lungs.

He stills, his eyes focusing on me before turning toward my mate, who is still shielded behind my body. Those eyes blink slowly, and he drops his head lower, blending into the depths of the dark shadows.

“My mistake. It seems that I was misinformed,” he hisses as he departs.

“You think?” Steph shouts after him and shakes her head with disgust, her hands fisting on her hips. “I guess your charms have no bounds, since the innkeeper sent muscle after us. I wonder what all she told him?”

Drawing a deep breath, I scent the air to confirm that the naga had indeed left. Once the strongest markers of his scent begin to fade with distance, I drop back into my fae form and purse my lips as I stare off in the direction in which the male departed.

“There is no knowing. Whatever it was, it was intended to drag me back to the nest and eliminate your presence one way or another. Sending a male after us would have been the most convenient way for her to dispose of you.”

“Yeah, no,” she mutters. “There’s no way in hell I would ever fuck that. He was huge! Just looking at him makes all my girl parts scream in terror.”

“You do not need to think about it because you are mine and are never fucking a naga or anyone else,” I snarl back, making my mate raise a dark eyebrow coolly in my direction.

Swallowing my anger, I stomp away, investigating from what direction the naga came at us unaware. A soft sound of dismay reaches my ears when I near the edge of the forest, and I turn to see Steph pull Grimsal into her arms. I feel a jealous rage churn within me, but it is quieted by the guilt that floods through me for not seeing to the goblin’s wellbeing. No doubt the naga had struck swift and hard to get around the male’s defenses.

Backtracking, I arrive at her side just as she presses her hands to his throat.

“I can’t tell if his heart is beating. I keep missing the pulse point. For all I know, it’s not even in the same spot,” she grumbles, tears of frustration and grief welling in her eyes. I can feel it beating at me even in my fae form and so I rush to her side to help her.

Just as I brace his weight within my own arms, a tear that clings to her lashes, a single drop still glittering with unicorn magic, falls and splatters onto the seam of the goblin’s mouth. I bite back a groan of dismay.

That can have unforeseen consequences. I should have warned her to be careful with blood, tears, and any bodily fluids. I just hadn’t imagined such a thing happening.

The goblin jerks in my arms from the full force of the potent magic and gasps, his eyes snapping right to my face.

“Oh, fuck me,” he rasps. “Why can I sense you?”

My lips thin, and I drop him to the ground, not caring just how much of an up-close and personal look he has of my nude body. Dread filling me as to what this could mean, I reach for my fetch form and shift and give him a gentle mental nudge. My stomach bottoms out instantly when I hear his surprised bellow in my mind.

Gods damn this entire mess.

Returning to my fae form, I cross my arms over my chest and glare down at the goblin.

“It seems that, thanks to my mate’s empathy and mercy toward your near-dead carcass, she gifted you with a tiny pearl of unicorn magic. Enough to bring you back and much to my eternal dismay… link us,” I mutter unhappily.

Steph stares at me in surprise.

“I did all that? And now he can hear you?”

“Unfortunately,” I grit out. “The last thing I want is to be mind-bonded to a goblin. But since he’s bound to you that means he’s now bound to me as well.”

The goblin swipes a nervous hand through his hair and gives me a cryptic look. Then a smile blooms across his face, and he slaps his leg with devilish glee.

“You might not enjoy it, but thank the gods because I was getting tired of missing half the conversation. Don’t worry… You’ll get accustomed to me in your head soon enough. I can be rather entertaining for those long hours you are in your fetch form.”

I bare my teeth only to close my mouth when my mate elbows me in the stomach.

“Be nice,” she whispers. “He nearly died. Besides, it’s not like he hasn’t done plenty to help us,” she reminds me. “What’s a bit more chatter. It’s not like you don’t hear him anyway. And he cooks for us… Speaking of which, I hope the fish survived the attack. Ah, good, it’s still over the fire,” she exclaims happily.

I watch her walk away with a pained grimace.

She doesn’t get it. It will be worse—infinitely worse. And the goblin knows this too, because his sudden chortle contains far too much mischief as he follows after her to retrieve supper from the fire.

Chapter 24

Steph

Yawning, I twitch against the warmth beneath my cheek. The heat is incredible compared to the cool air around me, so I wiggle my hips and attempt to snuggle closer. The heat cocoons further around me as my heater turns toward me, drawing me in closer. And right on top of something hard that digs into my hip. I groan and lift my head and blink groggily as I stare absently at the expanse of pale flesh that was beneath my cheek.

Eliph?

Slowly, not sure if I’m dreaming or not, I tilt my head back to get a better view of who or what I am pressed up against. Tipping my head back, despite the morning light through the trees, I’m able to see instead the familiar lines of a male’s strong jaw and the plane that slopes up to his cheekbones. His pale eyelashes shadow his cheeks, and his lips are slightly parted in slumber.

I gape at him for a second, my brain connecting the dots that somehow not only do I have the unicorn wrapped around me, but I’m also practically on top of him too. When did that happen?

Despite that glimmer of intimacy before the naga attacked, I know for a fact that I didn’t sleep with him. I don’t even recall falling asleep this close to him, but at some point during the night, we ended up curled up together, his arm fitted around me as if it always belonged there.

And I like it. Which makes me want to groan because now with his semi-erection pressed up against me, I’m feeling all kinds of awkward, like I’m violating the boundary he asked for.

Well, damn.

I shift my hips in attempt to slide off without waking him, but he groans in his sleep and draws me closer, shifting as he does so that I’m plastered against him with that now fully between us.

I consider shoving him away or attempting to throw my body weight enough to flop out of his arms, but it is seductively comfortable to lay here and at this moment I am a weak woman. He will disentangle us when he wakes—and do so as politely as possible, I’m sure—but for now I want to savor this unexpected closeness while I can before we are forced to get up and have to deal with reality.

Giving into temptation, I curl back into him and rest my head against his chest once more. Skating my fingers down his arm, I admire our contrasts and differences. My smooth brown fingers sliding over his immortal moonlight velvet as I listen to the even rhythm of his heart beating in his chest. It’s so much like that of a man that it would be easy to forget that it’s a unicorn who holds me. All the differences that we have, and yet last night those differences seemed to melt away so easily.

Of course, I’m pretty certain that I’m no longer entirely human. It should have occurred to me with the fairies lusting after my blood and all, or even Eliph saying as much, but it hadn’t hit home until I experienced the magic for myself. I hadn’t been able to believe it, or him until that moment. I had to experience it to know that my perceptions of myself—the fact that I don’t feel or look any different than I always had—didn’t really mean anything in the greater scheme. It feels completely insane to think I’m some sort of half-unicorn right now, but the truth is staring me right in the face. These differences—his exotic appearance—they are physical, but I felt that magic and it is a part of me now.

Strictly speaking, he feels a part of me in ways that I only got a hint of with his intimate communication through our bond before. And its more than just his magic. I feel close to him in a way that I haven’t felt in a long time.

I’m guessing that Eliph has been able to see that all along. The gulf between us had been so small in his eyes that he crossed it like stepping over a creek. He never once acted disgusted for having me as his mate like that innkeeper had. I mean, he’s always been upfront about wanting me, and I’ve seen the admiration in his eyes. But I also know that I’m not just a human body easily interchangeable if he found something better because he’s also defended our mating. He’s saved me from fairies, defended me from insults and now against a male who would have stolen me and realigned our bonds.

Eliph defended our mating and protected it.

Because of that and who I now know he is, it’s hard to see him—or any of this—the way I did when this began. He’s affirmed many times that I’m exactly who he wants in all ways—forever—and the more time we spend together, I think he’s exactly who I want. Someone sweet, giving, and protective, who makes me laugh when I get stuck in my head and with my worries. Someone who is there for me no matter what.

I think I might be falling in love with him.

I suck in a breath at the silent admission, waiting to see if it causes the usual wave of blind panic that comes with the idea of trusting someone with my heart. It doesn’t come. I just feel warm and at peace lying there, and the tingle of an ember of desire that’s been smoldering in my belly since our moment in the pool that draws me in closer. I’m so comfortable that I settle in to go back to sleep when his tail flicks over the back of my legs, making me smile against his chest.

His nose nuzzles the top of my head, and he breathes deep. I groan because despite all our waterplay yesterday, I desperately need to bathe. I consider slapping his nose away, but he makes a deeply contented sound in his chest as if not the least put off. It still kind of grosses me out, but I’m not about to complain.

“You are awake early,” he murmurs, his voice slightly raspy from sleep.

“Might be the iron bar wedged against me,” I murmur.

“Are you sure?” he teases. “Fae don’t care for things of iron. It could not be an iron bar unless you are planning to murder me.”

I roll my eyes and laugh into his pectoral. Eventually, I lift my head, my lips still twitching with amusement, and meet his eyes.

They seem an even richer shade of purple than before as he gazes at me with humor and something else that looks a bit like what could be devotion.

“Not unless you have in mind the ‘little death,’ as some like to call it,” I retort, loving the way his eyes soften and dance with humor.

I like this. We might be in no sex land with the way things are between us, but I like this easy comfort that’s developing and having someone to share laughter with. All the hot and heavy sex in the world can’t replace that. I guess that should have tipped me off before with Darrel because sex was incredible but there was always something that felt like it was missing… and with Eliph, I think I’ve found it. It’s this. This connection and just being able to enjoy being together.

I lean my head against him again and sigh.

“We should probably get up so we can head out before anything else decides to jump us here,” I say reluctantly.

Eliph nods. “Yes, I agree. We had some protection while the naga’s scent was still thick here, but it is fading. It’s a good idea to keep going until we cross into the Lorandral kingdom.”

Groaning, my body protesting giving up its comfortable bed, I push myself off Eliph. I get an eyeful of the erection straining against his leggings, but he doesn’t make any comment about it nor attempt to put distance between us. Instead, he pushes to his feet so he can reach down and pull me up. Chivalry isn’t dead with unicorns.

He then ruins every appearance of gallantry by turning and kicking the foot of our snoring companion. The goblin snorts and jerks up into a seated position, his hair standing on end in the front as his head whips around. At last realizing there’s no direct threat near him, Grimsal focuses on us, blinking sleepy eyes. He gives his belly a scratch and wrinkles his nose as he looks up at the sky.

“A bit early isn’t it?” he observes.

“Not if we want to be well within the safety of the Lorandral borders before sunset,” Eliph corrects.

Grimsal grunts and stumbles to his feet. He immediately hands me a large leaf wrapped around what I know is fish from last night. It’s amusing to think that this would have disgusted me just a few days ago, but I hurry to unwrap my portion and pinch off a small amount that I pop into my mouth with a moan.

I can feel Eliph’s eyes on me, watching me hungrily as he eats his own portion. A warm tingle runs over my scalp at his regard, but it doesn’t last long before I realize that the goblin is also staring at me with a tiny smirk as he eats. What exactly that’s about I can only guess. He always watches me eat leftovers like he expects me to get sick. Not that I have even once. I wrinkle my nose at him to tell him exactly what I think of his mockery. After all, I haven’t objected or even turned green at eating the wrapped meat for days.

Asshole.

I lick my fingers and flip him the bird before turning to Eliph and nudging him. The smile he bends on me brightens my mood, and I grin back as I scarf down the remaining bit of my morning portion. Unsurprisingly, he’s already polished his off, but I’m shocked when he suddenly swoops in to plant a chaste kiss on my lips before withdrawing to his designated safe distance for shifting.

I watch him, my fingers hovering over my lips in awe, as his body contorts into his fetch form. Blowing out a breath, he walks over toward me, a slight prance in his step, making me laugh at his sudden playfulness. His tail flags at my amusement, and he does a light trot around me before coming to a stop beside a fallen tree that I can use as a footstool. I slide onto his warm back, my legs closing around his body. This is the first time we’ve started the morning riding, but I understand his urgency and that’s why we are changing it up today. I find I don’t mind it all that much.

Grimsal brushes his hands off as he walks over to our side, strapping his packed winpar sack to his belt as he does so. He gives me a bright look that makes me suspicious as he rests one hand on Eliph’s flank.

“So, since we all have this lovely connection going on, what do you say about riding double? It would be quite a bit cozier up there, and…”

Eliph’s ears flattens, and he promptly snakes his head back, snapping at the offending limb. For about half a second, I consider jerking in surprise until I realize exactly what this is. They’re fucking with each other. Great. I roll my eyes and press my lips together, refusing to laugh, as the goblin yanks his hand out of the way with a mad laugh.

What’s with men of all species and playing dangerous games where they actually try to maim each other? I’m not worried about Eliph. He outsizes the goblin in his fae form, but in his fetch form he has considerable weight and power that could pulverize the smaller male. Not that it will stop him any. It’s obviously all fun and games to that goblin until he really goes too far.

The moment the goblin jerks away, Eliph’s ears snap up, and my mind—and no doubt the goblin’s thanks to having a connection to Eliph through me—fills with amusement as he side-steps elegantly away from Grimsal. His tail flicks in the other male’s direction in a mocking manner at the very end.

Nice try, goblin, but even your inborn death wish is not convincing enough to make me believe that you would risk your life to sit with my mate.

The other male presses a hand to his chest in insult.

“You would really hurt me?”

I think you ought to be more concerned with what my ahandral does to you if you attempt to cozy up to her, he snickers as he prances ahead along the path, leaving the goblin to follow us with his occasional random burst of teleportation smoke.

I grin at my mate’s words—because he’s not wrong. And what do you know… My mate. Huh. I relax in my seat, swaying comfortably on Eliph’s back as he picks up his pace into an easy trot. Moving as I am with him, it’s only minimally jarring until I adjust my seat. A happy laugh escapes me as we whisk through the trees, my heart falling into rhythm with us as I enjoy the sense of oneness that I’ve found. Flowers open as the sun rises higher, and I want to shout with elation at the happiness I feel in this moment.

“Sickeningly sweet,” Grimsal mutters as he bursts by, but I only give him the finger again, my laughter spilling out of me freely.

Chapter 25

Eliph

Steph sits silently on my back as we labor up the rough mountain terrain. Now that we are nearing the top of the pass, the simple tree line has given way to rough rock and plant life that tenaciously clings to the inhospitable environment. There has been little relief from the oppressive sun for hours now, and no water except for what we brought with us in the refilled water skins from the waterfall. Despite the unpleasant business with the nagas, I am still grateful that we were equipped with them at the inn.

I just hadn’t imagined that I would find her lapse into silence amid this barren and overly exposed atmosphere so distressing. Not when, for much of the day, she has sung or hummed to herself one song after another. All of them are unfamiliar to me, but they filled the air with her beautiful voice and called out to something within me as the air itself seems to tremble with the power of her voice.

Unicorns may have magic in the weave of our words, but her voice is like what I imagined that of a siren to be, beckoning and ensnaring me with every note. From her songs I got glimpses of her world—her joy, her passion for her family, her devotion and heart—and now that she’s silent I feel bereft of it.

She’s tired. We all are. Even Grimsal is lagging a bit, rather than racing out ahead of us to scout as he has been. He stands on the rocky outcropping at the top, staring out in the distance grimly as he waits for us to catch up. Even his babbling has quieted, although I’m surprised that he isn’t urging us to hurry so we can begin our descent.

I just hope that it won’t be too much farther until we enter into the Lorandral valley where the elvish kingdom is safely nestled. I can feel the warmth of the sun slowly sinking from the sky and am dismayed that we still haven’t arrived within the Lorandral kingdom. That may have as much to do with my discomfort as does my mate’s silence. I hadn’t imagined that the route from this side of the mountain was so far.

Just up this last bit to the top here, I assure her. Once we begin to descend into the valley you can get down and walk again.

“Sounds good,” she mumbles, her voice strained.

Hold tight.

Loose rocks break from beneath my dexterous cloven hooves as I propel us up a small incline, carrying us the final distance to the flat area at the top. I promptly drop my head in an .attempt to catch my breath and I feel my mate lean slightly over my withers. This is nothing unusual, as she often leans forward to look at something just ahead of us. No doubt the valley below is a welcoming sight. My attention however is drawn up when Steph groans unhappily.

What is it? I ask as I lift my head and I immediately echo her dismay at the sight before us.

“I guess you’ve never come up this way before,” she remarks incredulously.

I shake my head and Grimsal turns a haggard look quite unsuited to his usual youthful, energetic countenance.

“I had heard that the southern path was undesirable… and now we know why,” he says, gesturing to the steep drop into the dark valley below us.

The trees begin about halfway down the sheer rock face that only a unicorn or a mountain-born goat could safely descend, but the sight of the trees bring no comfort. They are gnarled from the elements with clusters of coarse, dark leaves. The sparse outcropping of trees thickens with just a narrow path descending into the yawning darkness below. I doubt much of the sun at its zenith penetrates that gloom, but with the sun dropping behind us, little will penetrate to the forest floor.

Steph shifts on my back and sighs.

“This is totally déjà vu. As a kid, I remember watching Beauty and the Beast and telling her daddy, ‘Are you stupid? Don’t enter that dark, spooky path,’ and here we are getting ready to do just that.”

I have no idea what she is talking about, but I understand the implication that I am a fool for even considering taking the path before us. But what other choice do we have? This is the nearest direct route through the elvish kingdom. From there, it is not much farther until we arrive at Beforal’s grotto. As tempted as I am to circle around, I can see from here that the mountain only becomes more sheer and hazardous. I would have to circumvent the entire mountain and that could take weeks, if not months—more time than I might have—and would require entering unknown territories. It would also offer very little protection against the fairies. I flick my tail indecisively as I relay our options.

Steph shakes her head. “No. I don’t want to risk getting stuck somewhere out there and not getting to the well on time.”

I consider telling her that it would really make no difference in the end, that I will die either way regardless, but I do not want to burden her with that… Not to mention that a hard knot of anger settles into my belly at the very idea of her being alone and defenseless in hostile territories.

Grimsal frowns to the west and shakes his head.

“The mountains extend all the way to sheer cliffs in the west. We couldn’t go around that way unless you’re of a mind to play with the sirens and merfolk. There are some scattered trails down to patches of shoreline at best. There is a port to the southwest, if you don’t mind doubling back a bit, where we can probably barter for transport north on one of their ships, but that will lose even more time. As for the east… If I remember correctly, to the east of the mountains is where a large river meets up into low swamplands. The blood clan of ogres lives out that way. Between us and the mountain here, I would rather take my chances here than enter the swamps.”

“Uh, yeah, let’s stay far away from any swamp inhabited by anything called a blood ogre,” Steph mutters with a shiver.

Then we descend. I glance over at the goblin. Are you going to be able to make it down the cliff with your teleportation?

He waves a hand. “Not a problem. It looks like that first bunch of trees is right within my range. I can be down there in a second and be waiting for you.”

As much as I loathe to admit it—and despise having my consciousness so close to his, randomly catching stray thoughts that are projected too loudly that I did not want to know—it is convenient to be able to speak and have them both hear me.

Very well. We will meet you there on that ledge just before the entrance into the forest.

The goblin nods and disappears with a loud pop, the cloud of dark dust the only thing marking where he was standing just moments before.

I don’t wait to see if he reappears at the ledge. Instead, I edge toward to the drop and look back at my mate.

Hold tightly to me and lean back as much as you feel safe doing so that there is less chance of gravity sending you flying forward as I descend.

“This is fucking insane… but okay,” she says, her voice thick with apprehension as her hands twine tightly into my mane.

Walking at a sideways angle, I slowly descend bit by bit, conscious of the rock loosening and falling everywhere I put my weight. I am tempted to just portal out of here, but since I have no idea where that will take me, I resist the compulsion and pick my way slowly down one step at a time with Steph’s legs clamped tightly around me. I can feel how nervous she is in the tension of her thighs and the tight grip of her hands. I murmur to her soothingly, assuring her that it will be over soon, as we continue to make our way down the sheer face of the cliff. Skirting the random trees that appear in my path is challenging, but I take it slowly, until at last we’ve arrived.

My back and sides are damp with sweat when I finally clatter to a stop at the ledge of rock just outside the forest entrance. The goblin sits in the branches of the tree watching us quietly. There is tension bracketing his mouth, but when I press against his mind in inquiry he just shakes his head.

“I don’t like it,” he mutters, more to himself than to us.

“I don’t care. I’m just glad we survived that cliff and are safely down here,” Steph says as she collapses forward to rest her cheek against my neck.

The grin that stretches Grimsal’s mouth is only a shadow of his usual self, but it is there as he drops down to our side to poke my mate’s leg with one thick finger.

“Nah, you’re just happy to be able to climb down from there,” he jests, eliciting a snort of amusement from Steph.

She doesn’t disagree, however, as she swings her leg over my back and slowly drops to the ground. Giving my side a pat, she takes a few steps forward before stopping to do a series of stretches that she’d begun after the second day of riding to relieve any tightness in her muscles. I know I’m still going to have to rub her down tonight since this ride was considerably longer and a lot more strenuous than before. My mate will be sore enough tonight. I don’t want to take any chance of her waking tomorrow in agony again.

My own limbs shaking with exhaustion, I drop my fetch form. The pop of muscles and bones realigning is almost a relief. That relief is in direct opposition to everything else in me which nervously cries out against making us more vulnerable. But I have little choice if I want to keep moving. For now, my fetch form is spent.

“It’s so damned dark,” she observes uneasily, gripping her hands tightly together.

I reach down and tug on her clasped hands, pulling the one nearest to me free so that I can clasp it in mine. I give it a comforting squeeze as she stares down the path to where it disappears into the depths of the forest completely. She glances up at me, the worry stark on her face as she eyes me questioningly. I smooth my palm against her cheek and smile down at her.

“It will be fine,” I reassure her as I project just enough magic through my horn that it glows like a lamp.

She smiles a little at that, the tension in her shoulders easing, and she gives me a small nod.

“Okay, I trust you,” she replies, and those three little words make my heart gallop even as a broad smile stretches over my lips.

Providing just enough to light to see by, I walk down into the mouth of the forest, leading Steph down behind me. She clenches my hand as she looks around, but keeps up as if not wishing to risk even the slightest possibility of being separated from me.

“What lives down here?” she asks after a moment.

I glance over at Grimsal, since he seems to know more about this area than I do, but his face tightens with reluctance.

“Grimsal?” I prompt impatiently.

He rubs at the back of his neck with one hand and shrugs.

“Hard to say. There are some rumors. There’s a sort of nocturnal pixie that shuns the sun or any bright light, visible due to the faint, sickly green light they give off. They are more of a nuisance because the females tend to bite, feeding on blood whenever they get the opportunity to sustain themselves during breeding season.” His nose wrinkles with distaste. “I don’t think it’s come around just yet, so we should be safe enough on that end.”

“So much for no mosquitos,” my mate mutters as she glances around warily. “If we’re safe enough on that end, then what end do we still have to worry about?”

“Well, there’s the small problem that if they should they take a disliking to you they have a habit of making mischief, making people fall asleep for indeterminant amounts of time or bringing about boils and other illnesses,” he adds. “But the bright side is that Eliph glowing like a lantern is bound to keep them away… Maybe.”

“Fucking awesome,” Steph replies sourly.

“Then there are of course the demi-hogwals, a boar-like hobgoblin that’s particularly vicious, but that’s not the worst of it.”

My ears prick at that and I turn a suspicious look toward him.

“What is the worst of it?” I growl out.

“Fairies,” he admits in a small voice. I nearly explode as I round on him, but he holds up a hand in attempt to ward off my anger. “No, listen. I know what you’re going to say, but I’m not even sure if these are from the same hill, and they don’t live here. It’s just known that fairy bands—many different ones at that—use the forest outside of the Lorandral kingdom to cut through neighboring territories when they travel. It’s unlikely we will see even one fairy, much less a whole band of them. Whether they’re here or not will not matter if your faeries are pursuing us, and you know that.”

“But it will make a difference if we are forced to evade even more fairies if they catch scent of a unicorn mare,” I snarl.

“There’s only a minor chance of that happening,” he counters.

Steph places a hand on my chest as I lunge for him, drawing me up short. Looking up at me, her warm brown eyes meet mine, the calm within them making me quiet in turn.

“Look, it’s all right. No matter what we do, there’s going to be some kind of potential danger, and if he says that it’s unlikely that we’re traveling through at the same time as one of these bands… well, I believe him. He’s been pretty on point about everything else.”

I grunt, unconvinced, but draw her hand up to my mouth and press my lips against it.

“I am sorry, ahandral. I know I promised that you could walk for a time, but I think it would be better if we hurry through this part of the forest. I am not too worried about hogwals…”

“Demi-hogwals,” Grimsal corrects with an impish grin. “A hogwal would be pretty offended if they heard you lump them together like that.”

I narrow my eyes peevishly at him but continue, “But I prefer to avoid any chance of encountering another fairy.”

Steph nods unhappily and climbs onto my back without protest the moment I shift back into my fetch form. My muscles, stiff and achy, protest a little, but I ignore them. The moment I am certain she is ready I streak down the path at a full gallop. With the darkness around us I’m unable to see the dark puffs of Grimsal’s progress, but I can hear them and am assured that he’s keeping up well enough.

As I race down the forest trail, I am able to ignore the oppressive darkness and even the flickering movement in the brush of either wildlife or the demi-hogwals that Grimsal spoke of. It does not matter much to me because in this form I can outrace them without effort.

Yet, after a while, a sensation begins to creep over me from behind us like a darkness spreading over me attempting to swallow my light. Desperately, I increase my speed so that I practically feel like I’m flying through the forest, my legs eating up the ground. As that darkness spreads I am all the more aware that night is coming upon us, and I’m filled with a new dread. The fairies use the cover of the night for their hunts. If they are after us, they will use this time to strike now that we are away from the protection of the naga’s forest.

A stir of magic runs over me, carried on the air. It sends a cold tremor through me, the magic pricking me like a thousand tiny blades. The wind rushes around us, and then I hear it, my ears turning back toward the sound as I dodge trees at high speed, my sides heaving with exertion. A wild laughter rises around me as the trees moan and shake.

They are coming. The hunt is upon us.

I know that Steph feels it too because she’s leaned forward, urging me on with whispers, pleading with me to hurry, her own breaths coming in sharp little pants as she looks frequently behind us. She’s just as aware of their presence and is terrified. I can feel her fear quivering between us through our bond; I can feel it in the tension of her body and scent it on the air.

Little is faster than a unicorn, but we can be overcome by other races. My ability to outrun a fairy hunt is questionable, but I will run with every bit of breath within my lungs and energy in my limbs. I will fly before them to the safety of the elf kingdom.

I bare my teeth and bellow my challenge, my head stretching out, my horn glowing as bright as a star. The trees bend and branches snap behind me. I can hear their ghostly hounds baying and the viciously hungry snarls.

My tail flagging out behind me, I round another corner and then see it in the distance… The silver pillars that mark the southern boundary of the Lorandral kingdom. It is still far, and Steph cries out as something sails past us with a terrible roar. I rear up defensively against it, Steph clinging to my neck, as I bring my hooves crashing down to crush our assailant. The fairy hound snarls, its narrow muzzle opening wide to display its vicious teeth as it attempts to bite down on one of my forelegs. It yelps, however, when a hoof connects with its belly, sending it scurrying into the brush.

“Let’s go!” Steph shouts into my ear.

I do not need to be told twice. With a leap forward, I take off once more, aware that the hunt has used that opportunity to close in on us. They are drawing closer on our trail, the sounds of the hunt deafening within the dark forest.

Chapter 26

Steph

I’m practically petrified as I watch the weird dog slink away. That’s not like any dog I’ve ever seen. Large, about the size of a pony, it’s ghostly white with enormous jaws like some sort of hell beast and glowing red eyes. Even the scruff around its neck and the fur running down its back seems spiked in a way that almost looks like quills. But it’s the snapping fangs and deep, resonating snarl that captures my attention the most. In a word, it’s horrifying, and I wanted to cheer when Eliph’s hooves made contact, crushing bones before sending it scurrying away.

For someone who loves dogs, I don’t even feel bad about it, because damn! When its huge maw opened up, I was sure that was it—that Eliph would get bitten and brought down, and I would be stolen away by the fairies bearing down on us.

There sure as hell isn’t just one this time, not with all that noise.

That means there’s no easy escape like last time. Our only chance is to get to safety before they overwhelm us. I only hope we can make it in time.

The silver pillars still seem too far away, glowing in the distance dispassionately. They promise safety and yet there is no warmth to that cold light. That it will save us almost seems ironic, but I’m not going to question it now. It’s not like we have many other options. If our destination is on the other side of this damn kingdom and we’ll be safe from the fairies here, then I’m all for it.

Leaning forward, I cling to Eliph’s neck as he races through the trees for it. My head is angled slightly downward, so I’m startled when I see something like a little man with a distinctly boar-like face, with the flat nose, tusks, and everything burst out of the trees toward us. He’s heavily armed and swings a mace up in preparation to strike out at my mate’s legs and cripple him.

“I don’t think so,” I snarl, with a surge of protectiveness toward my mate as the creature races right up to our side.

Drawing up my leg, I kick him in the head with all my strength. The demi-hogwal thing squeals as it stumbles and falls to the side. I’m forced to turn to continue watching it, but it’s only for a second before Grimsal drops on it lethally from a poof of dust. Grabbing the hobgoblin by its shaggy mane of hair, he yanks its head back and drags his bloody blade across its neck. Dark blood splatters, and the goblin gives me a jaunty wave before he disappears again in another poof.

Leaning forward again, I speak in a rush to my mate.

“Looks like the demi-hogwals are with the fairies. How the fuck is that happening?”

Hobgoblins are opportunistic. They will throw their lot in at a whim in hope of reaping rewards. I suspect that these are no different. Strike if one comes near as you did but don’t put yourself at risk, just hold onto me, whatever happens. Do not worry, Ahandral. I will go down fighting before I allow any of them to have you.

“Let’s not with heroics,” I hiss in alarm. “I don’t want you going down at all. Don’t you dare even think about it. Just be on the lookout for them is all I’m saying. Permission to skewer and everything.”

His amused chuckle warms me, even as he drops his head and hops as he skewers one of the nasty hobgoblins with his horn, but I go cold again when I see a brilliant flash at the pillars ahead. What the hell?

“Uh, Eliph, what…”

The light suddenly bursts forward like a heat-seeking missile toward Eliph, and I duck my head down against him, cringing at the impact to come.

I hear Eliph’s gasp in my mind, but rather than blow us to smithereens, I feel light washing over me. Squinting, I lift my head to see the magic pulsing from my mate’s horn with star-like beams. The screams of the fairies that fill the forest are gratifying, as is the recoil of inky blackness that had descended around us through the already dark woods.

Eliph bellows like a bull in what I can only assume is a sound of victory as he slows from a gallop into a canter before dropping into a trot just a short distance from the pillars. I wonder for a moment if we’re just going to pass through when the light consolidates and a man with sharp, pale features, and long pointed ears steps out. Silky hair a few shades darker than Eliph’s in his fae form hangs loose around his shoulders.

He’s very pretty, and I can’t help but stare at him, especially at the silvery markings decorating his face and the bare skin of his arms put on display by his sleeveless tunic. The tunic is held in place with a broad belt and ends just above his knees, his legs showing in the fitted line of the leggings.

He calls out something in a language I don’t understand. I shake my head and shrug helplessly, making the elf scowl at me after directing an impatient look at the unicorn. No doubt he’s pissy that my mate would rather carry me than immediately shift and speak with him. Not my fault!

“I think he wants to talk to you, babe,” I murmur down into Eliph’s ear.

Grimsal can do the talking. I’ve called him to us. There is no chance of me putting you down until we are on the other side of those pillars.

“Fair enough,” I reply and settle back to smile apologetically at the elf.

He doesn’t return my smile. His fingers tighten on the sword at his side as he watches me. Why me, though? He’s not glaring at Eliph or even Grimsal as the goblin pops over and whisks his hat off his head for a flourished bow. Nope, I’m the one getting eyed.

“Greetings, honorable one. I am Grimsal, fourth son of Farrahn, and my companions and I seek passage through your great kingdom.”

The elf growls something that makes the hair at the nape of my neck prickle, and the goblin glances at me quickly before bowing once more.

“I’m speaking for the benefit of the human, my lord. She doesn’t understand our languages, and I know that the elves in their wisdom cast their magics wide to facilitate communication with the human species for those of us traveling between worlds. If we can converse in her language, it would be…”

The elf interrupts and Grimsal blinks at him, shrinking slightly. The goblin glances questioningly over Eliph as he clears his throat uncomfortably.

“I’m sure the unicorn won’t object if you cast your magic over her so that she can understand you in your high tongue,” he says with a grimace.

“I guess no one will bother to ask me, but if it will get this show on the road, then hurry it along” I say dryly, my hand stroking my mate’s neck soothingly.

Eliph radiates hostility, his body stiff with objection.

“Let’s just get it done, babe,” I whisper and he drops his head in a short nod.

A smirk curls the elf’s cold features, but his eyes harden on me as he raises his hand. I tense in reaction. Yeah, he says he’s going to cast some sort of speaking spell on me, but he doesn’t look all that welcoming or like he even wants to speak to me.

Childhood fantasies are not only crushed but completely annihilated now.

I try not to flinch as a mist seeps around us from nowhere. My heart begins to race as it thickens around me. It’s like a thick band at first, and then it’s sliding up over my arms and chest, then my throat. It is so cold that that my breath draws in with a sharp, pained gasp. I’m suddenly very sympathetic to everyone who’s ever frozen to death because I swear that’s what it feels like as it rises higher and finally engulfs my head.

It flows into me, and I want to scream and cough and puke as the icy tendrils work down my throat and into my nose, eyes and ears. When the icy numbness hits my brain, I do shriek in agony as it burns deep. I’m not sure if I black out or not, but I still feel numb when it fades, and my face is wet from the tears that must have fallen without me knowing. Beneath me Eliph vibrates with unleashed fury, the glow around his horn pulsing.

“There,” the elf says smugly. “Now she can take part in this conversation without me debasing myself to speak that vulgar language.”

“Thanks,” I growl out, my words kept low though because my head still feels like its skewered in a glacial vice.

“As for your request of passage, it is something that will have to be addressed to our king. I’m not free to give you leave nor to deny you and send you back out into the forest to play with the fairies. This would require that I leave my post to escort you to the castle,” he points out.

Really? And what does this motherfucker want then? All I know is that this guy needs to quit playing around and let us in before anything tries to get the jump on us out here.

I narrow my eyes on him, prepared to ask him just that when Grimsal interjects before I get the first word out.

“We would be most grateful for an immediate audience,” the goblin says smoothly with another bow. “And, of course, offer a small token of our gratitude.”

“Kiss-ass,” I whisper over at him, and he gives me a reproachful look.

I don’t care. This elf is treating us like we’re dirt—or more specifically, like I’m dirt, because I’m pretty sure that they wouldn’t be doing this to Eliph if he were alone. At least Grimsal knows where I’m coming from, since his kind is obviously not favored, judging by the prissy look the elf is giving him. Well, just because the goblin is willing to kiss his rump doesn’t mean I’m going to. He’s not getting anything from me.

“A small token,” the elf agrees.

His smile becomes sharper as he looks over at Eliph.

“Just the smallest favor. I want the tip from the unicorn’s horn.”

“What? No!” I snap.

“My lord, I’m sure that there is another gift…”

It’s okay, Eliph murmurs in my mind, his voice a soothing balm against the heat of my anger. He’s only asking for the very uppermost tip. It is a price that is not uncommon to ask from a unicorn and one that I’m willing to trade. It will only take a moon cycle for it to grow back.

“But that means someone is going to have to cut it from you,” I protest.

The very idea of someone chopping even the smallest part of his horn off horrifies me. Normal or not, that just seems like assault. Demanding payment by hacking body parts. Might as well be someone harvesting organs for the black market or something.

Your mind does travel to some interesting places when you are projecting loudly, my mate teases. Do not worry. It will not harm me or my magic, and perhaps he may keep it or sell it—it doesn’t matter. It is a small cost.

I totally don’t agree, but I hold my tongue as he allows the elf to approach with his drawn sword. My eyes track his every movement suspiciously. He lifts an eyebrow at me but merely curls his lip as he approaches Eliph’s head. The only indication that he’s put out by my stare is the way his lips are thinned with displeasure.

“Yeah, I’m watching you, buddy,” I mutter.

His icy blue eyes dart over to me and hold my gaze as he grips Eliph’s horn with one hand and lifts his blade. The bastard smiles, and my heart goes still as he brings his sword down hard.

The crack of breaking horn shoots through their air like a massive percussion, and I wince, my eyes squeezing shut against the force behind the sound as I cover my ears. Once I’m certain that it’s over, I uncover my ears and open my eyes in time to see a small ivory fragment no longer than half of my pinkie finger drop down with a soft clink into the elf’s hand.

The elf’s fingers curl around it and his cold smile widens momentarily before he tucks it away into a tiny pouch on his belt. He gives Eliph a formal—and yet somehow very ironic—bow as he gestures with one hand toward the pillars.

“Enter, guests,” he purrs.

Grimsal hastens past him with a wary look, leading the way, his own hand on the knife on his belt as if concerned it’s some sort of trick. Once he’s safely on the other side, he gives Eliph a nod and my mate steps forward, passing through the gate. I’m aware of a flash of light from the pillars, and the dark forest behind us fades away until suddenly there is nothing but a beautiful, moonlit forest all around us.

“Welcome to Lorandral,” the elf says in a quiet voice as he passes us.

Chapter 27

Eliph

The sting of the magic released at the tip of my horn still burns, but I carry on as if it doesn’t bother me. Instead, I surround myself with the warm memory of the way she attempted to protect me with her objection to what is actually, among unicorns, a reasonable request. Even now, as she sits on my back, she is grumbling in her mind, cursing the elf to every direction of the winds.

How can a male possibly adore his mate more?

My hooves clop on a cobblestoned path that twines through the trees. Unlike the oppressive forest we left behind, these trees are more like those in my grotto, their branches spread wide with the light of the rising moon shining down through the leaves. Every now and then I catch the scent of the familiar perfume of night-blooming flowers, and the trees all lightly glow, bathing the path before us with their luminescence.

The elf who guides us does so silently, almost a shadow as he walks. I do not like this male. I do not like the way he treated my mate, nor the way he forced his magic upon her. I suppose the latter was inevitable dealing with elves since few of them will bend even a little to convenience another species, but it still infuriates me as I recall her panic. I doubt I will ever forget how helpless I felt at that moment—or forgive myself for not insisting that the male show her proper courtesy.

“I can practically hear you seething,” Steph whispers as she gives my neck a pat. “Quit stewing. We both know that what happened back there couldn’t really be avoided.”

I’ll stop if you quit fussing about my horn, I retort.

Her soft laughter makes me smile within my fetch form.

“I suppose we’re a pair then. Neither one of us is able to resist grumbling to ourselves about shit we can’t control.”

I rumble in agreement, my anger fleeing in the face of her amusement.

With a light prance that makes her giggle at my antics, I pick up my pace so that I draw up close behind the elf. He looks at us out of the corner of his eye but makes no attempt to offer my mate polite conversation. I flatten my ears as I stare at his profile. He doesn’t know just how close he is to his own demise. I want to cream him into the dirt beneath my hooves, and the fact that he’s ignoring us despite acting as our escort is not helping any.

Worse, he’s disappointing my mate. I was under no illusions over elf decorum, but I can feel my mate’s displeasure as acutely as I felt her excitement earlier. While I can’t pretend to understand her interest in the elves—and might be more than a little jealous over the idea of a male potentially drawing her interest—I know she was looking forward to this encounter.

While the elf does not tell us how far we have to travel to reach the palatial halls, I’m fairly certain that it is close. Although many elves make their home in regal woodlands, more than half of them take the opportunity to build their estates by bodies of water within their territory. As I can hear the loud, rushing babble of a river up ahead, I am certain we will see the Lorandral kingdom soon.

The moon ascends higher, making the entire forest shine silver, and it is because of the moonlight that I can clearly see the sweeping stone turrets standing out from above the trees. Standing outside of the tree cover, they gleam like the moon itself. It makes my modest keep by my well—which I had always considered quite luxurious and comfortable—seem like nothing more than a humble cottage in comparison. My mate gasps from where she’s seated on my back, and so I know she sees it too.

“Lorandral Palace,” our guide says unnecessarily, his voice flat.

“It’s gorgeous,” Steph whispers.

“Of course it is. It is made by elvish magic, not crude human hands,” he sneers.

He cuts her a mocking look that instantly makes me bare my teeth in warning. I would be all too happy to bite him and wipe that look off his face. To my gratification, his sneer slips away, even though it is only to return to his expressionless facade.

“Once we cross the bridge, we will be entering into the village. Although I will take you to the palace grounds, I will be settling you within one of the rooms while I announce your presence to his majesty. You will have access to the gardens from your private balcony, but you are to otherwise stay within your rooms.”

“Captive guests. Charming,” Steph observes quietly.

The elf thins his lips at her as she smiles down at him, but, after a hasty look in my direction, he doesn’t comment. His chin lifts, and he strides out ahead of us, his pace brisk to keep us walking in his wake like servants rather than at his side. Two can play that game, of course, and I guarantee that regardless of how tired I am, my legs can outstrip the abilities of his.

“Now who’s the one thinking loud?” Steph snickers. “Calm yourself, hotshot. This sure as hell isn’t a race, and I’m enjoying the view.”

I let out a disgruntled sigh but can’t deny my mate anything, even the view of the Lorandral Palace as we draw nearer and exit the edge of the forest. It sprawls out in front of us with its arcs and turrets and the long balconies that wind around its perimeter. Even from here, I can see finely dressed elves strolling along it.

“Damn. They’re all dressed nice, and I’m going to be coming in looking like something the cat dragged in,” Steph mutters as she squints at the balconies with their elegant flourishes and hints of statuary decorating various niches. “Dinner is going to be a disaster.”

It will not. You will have plenty of time to prepare.

“With what?” she hisses. “I need to bathe, and my clothes look like they need to be burned with the layers of dirt and mud on them now.”

Elves may not be the warmest beings, but their hospitality is unreproachable when it comes to one’s needs. I will make sure you get a bath and will fashion clothes for you myself so you don’t feel poorly over our appearance at their court.

“You would do that for me,” she says happily, giving my neck a hug. “Thank you.”

As long as I can get another hug when I can properly return it, I will consider that thanks enough.

“You’re definitely getting a hug,” she agrees with a soft laugh that promises far more.

I flick my tail happily, my hooves striking the stone bridge louder as I step up onto it. The bridge is as white as the palace, its reflection almost shining in the dark river flowing beneath us. I imagine that in daylight it is a bright, pure blue. It follows alongside the outcropping of elegantly crafted elvish homes made of the same white stone only to widen into a large lake at the side of the palace.

I suspect that the lake itself is artificially made, since it is a perfect circle as if in reflection of the moon whose light is perfectly reflected in its waters. From that light, I can spot several swans gliding through the water. The lake is large enough to almost appear endless, but in the distance, I see the line of a shore and several rivers that break from the confines of the lake to charge on the river’s course eastward.

Despite the beauty of the night, I’m glad that there are not many elves out in the surrounding village enjoying it. Our approach is thankfully completely without incident or drawing any notice. We don’t even enter the palace itself, but rather our guide takes us along a long balcony looping behind the palace. The rich smell of the flowers grows stronger as we make our way along the walkway. Even though it is too dark to clearly see them, I am certain it is coming from the guardians our guide mentioned.

The door he finally stops at is without distinction, but I couldn’t care less if it was the most common servant’s quarters as long as it meant that we could clean up and rest.

“The… goblin… will be in here,” he says with a grimace.

The door swings open, and immediately several lamps flick on, responding to an enchantment attached to it. The elf steps back out of the way, and I can see that the light filling the remove reveals lush bedding, ornately carved furniture, and beautifully papered walls. Everything is crafted in dull bronze hues and deep yellows against cream. This is the sort of extreme luxury that few might ever experience.

With a raised eyebrow, Grimsal steps inside and gives a low whistle.

“For me, eh? It’s a bit much. That bed alone I could fit myself and four of my siblings,” he observes cheekily.

“Quite,” the elf murmurs. “Unfortunately, guest quarters don’t come in a stockade version for rowdy companions, so I trust you won’t defile this room.”

“Gotcha. No defilement. There shall be no pissing on the walls or livestock brought in to satisfy my carnal appetites,” he says drolly with an unveiled look of disgust.

It seems that the deference that Grimsal endured earlier on our behalf is now well on its way out the door.

“Somehow it wouldn’t surprise me if that were your unusual nighttime activities,” our guide replies, his lips curling at the goblin. “I’m just thankful that you are housebroken enough to recognize the necessity of refraining.”

Grimsal laughs and flops down in a finely upholstered chair, drawing out his knife as he does so with the bit of wood he’s been whittling. A look of tight fury crosses the elf’s face as he watches tiny bits of wood fly and fall upon the intricately dyed rugs, but as if sensing that the goblin is baiting him, he withdraws the rest of the way onto the balcony with us and pulls the door shut with a bit more force than necessary, slamming it.

He doesn’t so much as say a word to us as he stalks by and heads farther down the balcony to the next door. This he opens in a similar manner, but crosses his arms over his chest.

“And these are your rooms,” he growls. “If you have any insulting or provocative remarks, get them done with now so I may leave.”

Steph slides off my back, her feet hitting the floor so I can freely shift. My horn aches demonically as I morph, but it’s over quickly and I am able to step into the room a pace ahead of her just to make sure that there are no dangers waiting for us.

Like before, the lamps lit the moment the door opened, and so everything is clearly visible as we step inside.

It is almost identical to Grimsal’s room except that the decor is done in shades of royal purple, heather, and lavender on cream instead. There isn’t one dark corner that I can see, or any place that one might be hiding. Even the bathing chamber is well lit and the screen door slid back completely against the wall.

“Well?” the elf snaps.

“No complaints,” Steph sighs happily. “It would be nice if we could have some food and drink to tide us over to next meal.”

“And water for our baths,” I add.

The elf wrinkles his nose in distaste at the inconvenience of doing anything else for us but nods his head.

“I will send someone shortly,” he mutters with a sharp nod as he closes our door firmly behind him.

Steph takes a step toward the chair and fidgets in place.

“I can’t sit… Not dirty like this,” she says in dismay. “I wonder how long it’s going to take for water to be brought down—oh!”

She jumps as a port in the wall above the tub opens and heated water sluices out of it into the tub.

“Dibs on the first bath,” she shouts as she hastily strips, her clothes dropping in strategic muddy patches well away from the rugs as she makes a beeline for the tub.

“Agreed,” I reply silkily as I pick up a cake of soap. “That just gives me the pleasure of washing you.”

“Oh my,” she whispers, her eyes widening as I stalk toward her. “Yes, please!”

Chapter 28

Steph

The tub is huge. It’s less a tub as I understand one and more like a miniature Roman bath, complete with brilliant mosaic tiles depicting pink lotuses amid a watery scene created in patterns of green and blue. Rather than sitting on the floor, the rectangular structure is set into the stonework with multiple drains, each one currently plugged. There’s so much room that I could float from one end to the other if I wanted to. Certainly, the structure seems more a bathing pool than bathtub. I notice that about halfway in the floor inclines down, creating a deeper end for who knows what.

There’s little doubt in my mind that it could comfortably fit two more men Eliph’s size. It’s more of a hot tub than bathtub in my opinion, which makes me wonder at just what the elves get up to that they need such a huge bathing area—not that I’m complaining. No indeed.

If only I could convince a certain male to climb in with me rather than soaping up the washcloth he’s holding in his hand.

Apparently we’re not on the same wavelength because, although his eyes glow with the heat of his desire, he gently nudges me forward and slides the sudsy cloth down my back. I haven’t had my back washed since I was old enough to do it myself. Not even the men I have been with in the past have so much as thought to wash me. Oh, a few have jumped in the shower with me, but other than wanting to play with my tits or ass, they mostly just hogged the hot water. Being lovingly washed and touched like I’m the most precious thing in the world is… incredible.

Thoughts of playing water tag with my sweet, sexy unicorn melt away as I lean into his touch, enjoying the firm strokes of the cloth as he soaps all the way down to the bottom of my ribs, where the water pools around me, before dragging the cloth back up and bringing it slowly down each arm. He washes every inch with small circles until he reaches my hands and painstakingly swipes the cloth between each finger. By the time he has me lean back, I’m nearly boneless. I’m that relaxed.

The touch of the washcloth on my collar bone isn’t what I would consider erotic, nor the way it smooths over my shoulders and neck. It’s nice, but when it dips down over my breasts, the long, slow strokes are toe-curling. I reflexively shiver when he skates over a nipple, my breath catching in my throat. He leans so close, his eyes inspecting every inch of me for dirt, that it brings his horn close to my face.

In this form, the chip at the end of it is much smaller, but it’s a distinct interruption of the elegant ivory spiral. Lifting a hand, I brush my fingertip over the end and an erotic tingle zaps up my arm and floods through me as Eliph closes his eyes and moans softly.

“Is it sensitive?” I ask, my voice surprisingly husky to my ears.

He shakes his head, his eyes opening to meet my gaze boldly so I can see the lust sizzling in the amethyst depths.

“No. It’s just a horn outwardly. It reacts, however, to the spark of magic between us. As my ahandral, the magic that is within you is meeting my magic, and the joining of the two currents creates a very powerful sensation. With the tip of the horn damaged, the feedback of the joined currents is even stronger,” he gasps as I run my thumb over the damaged tip again.

I suck in a breath as another pulse of energy slams through me, lighting my body up as it heads directly down to my clit. I squeeze my thighs together and moan as Eliph shudders and uses the opportunity to swipe the cloth low against the exposed skin of my belly. Whatever he’s feeling, however, he’s keeping tight control of it, though I watch his skin shudder.

With patient care, he lifts one foot out of the water to soap up my calf and foot, and then repeats the process with my other foot. All the while I play with his horn, fingers dancing down the length, drawing tiny sparks that make me shiver with pleasure before going in for direct contact with that chipped tip. My body arches then as the accumulated zaps of magic make my belly convulse hard with the orgasm that rocks through me.

“Stand up, ahandral,” he whispers in a choked voice.

The water sloshes around me as I push up to my feet. From my new vantage point, I’m now looking down at him as he kneels in front of me, and I can see the strain of his erection against his leggings. My eyes close when the washcloth sweeps over my rounded belly before dipping between my legs.

My hips jackknife at the gentle scrape of fabric, and a choked gasp leaves me as a warm, liquid heat floods my channel. It’s counterintuitive to Eliph’s efforts, but he doesn’t complain. His nostrils flare, and a harsh groan vibrates through him. His horn pulls free of my hand as he leans forward. With two fingers, he parts the folds of my sex as his tongue dives in, slicking over my pussy slowly as if savoring my flavor.

“Fuck,” I rasp, my eyes glued to the top of his head and the bob of his horn where it rubs against my belly sending delicious aftershocks through me in time with his eager licks. He shudders and moans softly into my mons. I can’t believe I’m about to say this when he’s licking me like I’m his favorite flavor of ice cream, but… “I thought you didn’t want this.”

He drags his tongue up one final time as he draws back, his fiery purple eyes fixing on my face. “I have always wanted this, just as I have always wanted you… My feelings were true to what you proposed then. Right now, however, all I know is that I want to hold and pleasure my mate at least once,” he whispers. “I have decided that I don’t want to miss having this at least once.”

I want to tell him that I’ll never leave him, and to fuck the damn well. The feeling, however, is so sudden that I don’t know if it’s wholly genuine or because I’m so damn horny that I can’t think so my lust is doing the talking.

“Get in the damn tub,” I groan, the sound muffled as he jumps to his feet and captures my lips with his.

He doesn’t stop kissing me, his tongue tangling eagerly with mine, to undress. He doesn’t need to. A soft light pulses through his horn and then his clothes are gone, disappearing back to wherever they came from. He steps down into the giant tub with me, his significant height towering over me, making me feel small and dainty as his large hands grip my hips. He holds me against him and slowly backs into the deeper end, taking me with him.

The hot water teases my belly button for only a moment before we sink together, our mouths meeting with a desperate frenzy that only releases a fraction of the hunger that burns within us. Eliph sits and draws me forward so I straddle his lap as he crushes me against his chest. That position places his cock against the folds of my pussy so that it brushes my clit, and I move against it helplessly, the hot need in my belly twisting in demand as the friction starts sparks of pleasure racing through my blood.

His grip tightens on my hips for only a moment as he lifts me up just high enough that he can get one hand between us and reposition his cock so that its head kisses the opening of my sex. My muscles tighten with a tiny tremor, and I brace my feet on the floor. His hand returning to my hips, he slowly pushes down as he lifts his hips—but I’m too ready to wait. He’s long and thick, far more generously endowed than any lover I’ve had, but I can feel the bright flame of my magic twining through my lust, heightening it with a need to join far beyond just fucking.

This is not just sex. I recognize it and understand why he embraces it now.

Gods, not even I can deny that this is something more, regardless of my doubts.

My pussy feels swollen and sensitive stretched as it is around the head that’s just barely managed to penetrate me, but it’s not enough.

Digging the fingers of one hand into his shoulder, I bring my other hand up to grip his horn, feeding the roar of magic to a greater height within me. Eliph’s hips jerk up, pushing his cock in deeper, making my toes curl against the bottom of the bathing pool. My legs tense in response as I drop down hard over his length.

The cry that tears from my lips at the sudden hard invasion of his cock buried deep within me is one of elation and intense pleasure. The pinch of pain is brief and only increases the pleasure that makes my pussy spasm around him with a fresh orgasm.

Eliph clutches me against him, his body shaking against mine. I wonder if that’s it, if he’s just come as well, but his cock is as rigid as ever inside of me. He moves his hips experimentally, reminding me that this is his first time, and despite what seemed like experienced hands moments before, he’s still experimenting and getting to know our bodies.

I try to relax against him, but he’s doing something right because I can feel a tingle start deep within me once again. Slowly, I lift my bottom so that I slide up the length of his cock with exquisite slowness before pushing back down. He’s watching my face the entire time, and it’s so erotic to see the heat in his eyes and the way his pupils are blown wide in desire—and all for me.

I lean in and slick my tongue against his lips as I rotate my hips, and he jerks hard against me. I only get halfway down when he tugs my hips, sheathing himself fully and abruptly within me so that we both groan with pleasure. My gaze is still caught with his, however, so I see the sharpness fall over his expression as the hunger and need makes his lips draw back from his teeth. He clenches my hips harder, lifting me before snapping me back down. A choked shriek is the only response I’m capable of, and it’s followed by panted cries as he repeats the motion again and again until he shifts his hands to my shoulders to hold me against him as he snaps his hips up, grinding into me.

The magic flowing between us tightens like a drawstring, every pulse of power making my cunt spasm around him deliciously. But it’s still not enough. It’s too much like an inferno that can’t be extinguished. I slap at his shoulder.

“Let me up,” I moan.

He gives me two more powerful thrusts but releases me with a reluctant snarl. I drag myself off his lap and drape myself over the padded edge of the pool, thankful that the elves considered such comforts, given what I need. I put my hand between my legs and pinch my clit, gasping as the shiver of desire as the water ripples around me with the swish of his tail.

Then he’s there, his body curving over mine. He nips my ear and grinds against my bottom so that I push my ass up against him.

“You wish for me to take you this way, ahandral?” he snarls into my ear.

“Fuck yes,” I croak and nearly come undone when one hand fists into my hair, the stinging sensation sending tears to my eyes even as it makes my lust burn higher and hotter.

He pauses, as if uncertain, his fingers moving hesitantly within my curls, but I reach up and wrap my fingers around his wrist to keep him from withdrawing. I never thought I would be the sort that liked my hair pulled—in fact, my rule is typically don’t fucking touch my hair at all—but the primal way he holds onto me makes my thighs tremble.

With his hand still entangled, he drops down to press tender kisses against my shoulder and neck interspersed with small, experimental licks. He rocks his hips gently, reverently as he explores me, his cock dragging torturously through my folds and bumping every sensitive spot within my channel. His hand on my hip drops down and pushes away my own hand so that he can stroke my clit in time with every thrust.

I writhe against him helplessly, my body tightening as something twists and churns deep within. The pressure builds slowly, and I buck against him with desperation, but he holds me tight so that he controls the penetration. The flow of our magic twines tighter, burrowing within me so that the bloom of desire within me brightens and grows. I can feel myself shaking within his arms, and despite the fact that he’s restraining me and doing all the work, I’m lying on the edge of the bathing pool panting like I’m running a marathon.

I nearly weep for relief when his tempo changes, his hips driving quicker against my backside. This… This is exactly what I need. His fingers rub at my clit, striking the sensitive tissue all around it and plucking at it as his hips slap against me. I push back against him, my cries becoming louder as I feel his cock jerk hard within my channel.

He’s coming, but it’s not just spurt and done. He ruts fiercely, his hips slamming into me, grinding down with each thrust as his cock jerks with another spray of seed against the mouth of my womb. Its bathes my insides with electric sparks as he gives one final pinch to my clit, sending me over into orgasmic bliss.

My pussy clenches tight, rippling over him as my scream fills the room. He plunges one final time and grinds me through my orgasm, the deep pressure of his cock against the sensitive spot at the root of my channel making me convulse until I finally sag limp against the side of the pool. Dropping gently to kiss my back, he gives a few more thrusts, his cock jerking with fresh sprays until he, too, is depleted.

He doesn’t withdraw as I expect him to. Instead, Eliph gathers me up in his arms and resumes bathing me until I’m clean. He carries me out of the pool and dries me off with an incredibly soft towel, taking care to soak as much water as he can from my hair in the process before laying me on the bed. Only then does he go back to the pool to clean himself before returning to my side.

I don’t even bother moving. I enjoy watching him too much as he cares for his own cleanliness, especially the fascinating way he carefully cleans around his tail. I know he enjoys me watching him too, because already his cock is semi-hard again. He doesn’t do anything about it when he finally comes to bed. Instead, he gathers my spent, tired body into his arms and curls himself protectively around me.

If I wasn’t sure that things had changed before, I am now, but my mind struggles to discern exactly what I feel, what I want, and what I need. The desire to stay with him is definitely stronger, but again I’m still floating in a pool of sex-driven endorphins so I can’t help but be mistrustful of it. At the same time, I can’t deny that some part of me must want it. This wars with the responsibility I feel toward my family. Don’t I owe it to them to return?

Eliph’s hand strokes my side gently. “Don’t worry yourself, ahandral. For now, just sleep. There will be enough to worry about tomorrow.”

I relax further into the heat of his body, my eyes blinking against my fatigue. He’s right. I’ll be able to think more clearly tomorrow.

Chapter 29

Steph

As lovely as our quarters are, I’m too anxious to enjoy them. Even the lazy morning rolling around in bed was only a temporary distraction. And as much as I enjoyed staying in bed with Eliph for half the day, I’ve started getting antsy. We’ve literally seen nobody since we arrived. Each of our meals are delivered by what looks kind of like those Regency-era dumbwaiters. The small lift is tucked behind a little wooden door in the wall above where our cozy table sits.

It’s all charming, but having zero contact with anyone—even the palace staff to make sure that we haven’t up and died in here—is sketchy as hell. Not to mention that we haven’t even had Grimsal burst in on us, which I was expecting as much as I was dreading the interruption. Now that I’m thinking about it, it’s unlike him to not pop in just to remind us of his presence and catch a laugh at our expense.

Where is he?

It’s possible that he’s out breaking the rules and exploring. That little teleportation skill seems like it would be really handy right now if someone wanted to get a look around without potentially getting into trouble. I’m jealous as hell if he is. But it still doesn’t explain why he hasn’t inconveniently popped in on us.

“What do you think Grimsal is doing?” I ask, voicing my worry.

Eliph glances up at me from where he sits cross-legged on the bed. He has a pile of cloth in his lap and is working on another piece as he weaves the magic in his hands. He pauses in his work to give me his full attention with a blink of surprise… and also, I suspect, to make sure he doesn’t fuck something up on my clothes. While his own clothes appear instantaneously on him, apparently it takes more concentration and effort for him to construct them separately for someone else. I already feel guilty for interrupting and wince apologetically.

“Probably making a nuisance of himself somewhere now that he has someone new to potentially torment,” he suggests with a tiny smile.

I shake my head. “Okay, yeah, I could see him doing that… But you’re his top favorite person to annoy. I figure he would have dropped by at least once.”

“Honestly,” my mate says as he picks up the piece of fabric he’s working on and inspects it critically, “I haven’t given it much thought outside of being relieved at having some peace. But you are right,” he says, his brow furrowing. “That is definitely out of character for him. It must be late afternoon by now. I wouldn’t have expected him to last this long, even if it was just to stop by to gloat over something he saw.”

“Do you think we should go over to his room and check on him… just in case?”

Now Eliph frowns at me, his horn pulsing with a strange glow that’s just weird. It’s been doing that all morning, but after a moment, he shakes his head and gives me another smile, despite the tiny glimmer of worry I feel buried within him. I want to say something about how weird all of this is, but I shake it off. If he’s not worried, then I guess I should take his lead on this matter. He does know a hell of a lot more about elves and, on top of being pretty suspicious of most people I don’t know, I am a bit of a worrier.

I know that Eliph has probably been trying to distract me for that very reason. And he’s done a good job of it. All morning and afternoon, he’s used every opportunity possible to seduce me. Of course, I’m quite willing when it comes to being seduced, so it wasn’t like it was hard for him. Our bed has seen action, as has the table, and even the bathtub again as we bathed to prepare to dine with the king. I’m certain that a good portion of my nerves is due to that alone. Eliph seems pretty sure that he’ll give us safe passage, but I’m not so certain.

I mean, why keep us penned in?

Eliph assures me that it’s not unlike elvish culture to keep unexpected guests separated while they figure out what to do with them, but this just feels wrong. It’s like being kept in a waiting room of a government office just knowing that everyone is watching you suspiciously like they are just waiting for you to fuck up. A whole world away and I’m being fucking ‘othered.’

I’m not impressed.

Whatever small hope I had that the guardian at the pillars was some sort of anomaly is slowly fizzling in light of our complete isolation. Control contagious disease human? Check. Ha… ha. My own inner attempt at humor falls flat, and I’m depressed.

Not to mention I’m tired of being kept here. I would go out in the gardens and explore, but all I have around me is the bedsheet as Eliph works. I could put on my muddy clothes… I wrinkle my nose and immediately reject the idea. They are filthy and smell. I would have thrown them out entirely if there had been any kind of garbage can in here. I guess I could have shoved them into the dumbwaiter with our dishes, but that is pretty fucked up to foist that on an unsuspecting servant.

Sighing, I plop down on the bed beside him and crane my neck to look at the garments in his lap. They look familiar…

“Wait, don’t I own this?” I ask in disbelief as I pick up the white blouse from his lap.

The short little red jacket immediately drops into his lap, and I have to admit that while they closely resemble my clothes these are finer, like touching the softest fabric with tiny details stitched in of vines and blooming flowers. It’s so fine that I have to bring it up close to get a good look at them.

My mate smiles proudly.

“It was the outfit you wore the day I came to your home and announced my claim,” he says, clearly pleased with my awed reaction.

“You paid that much attention to what I was wearing?” I ask in surprise.

He gives me a puzzled look that just makes me want to smooch him because of course he wouldn’t think it out of the ordinary to be so attentive.

“Of course. It was the second most important day of my life, second only to the day that you tried to kill me with the door,” he answers with a grin.

“Ha ha. Very funny,” I snort as I pillow my head against his arm.

His lips brush my forehead, and he snuggles me in his arms, pulling me directly into his lap in the process, which just makes me feel ridiculously happy. I’m also grinning like a loon because I know that we must look a sight. I fill my mate’s lap, my body covered with the sheet while his arms practically engulf me. I don’t want the moment to end, really. He can just keep holding me forever and I wouldn’t mind.

That peaceful feeling quickly wanes however when his eyes get foggy for a moment and his horn pulses.

That...is not normal. I don’t think so anyway. I’ve never seen him look that way.

He frowns slightly as if confused, but his eyes clear at the sound of someone clearing their throat, bringing my attention to our unannounced visitor. A tiny sound of surprise escapes me, but I’m thankful for Eliph’s arms that shield most of the exposed bits of me from the eyes of our company.

Peering around his thick arms, I set eyes on the elf standing demurely by the door. Of far more delicate features than our escort the night before, she’s clothed in a simple pale green dress with a fitted jacket of a paler, green-tinted cream with delicate embroidery along the hem that matches the dress beneath it. Her hair a duller color than the ice blond of the male, she has the strangest magenta eyes and delicately pointed ears. Her features make her stand out enough that I wonder if they’re even the same type of elf. Also, unlike our escort the night before, she smiles politely at us and inclines her head.

“My apologies that you’ve been waiting so long. I’m Satharal, and I’ve been asked to bring you to dinner to discuss your situation now.”

I scurry off Eliph’s lap, and, clutching my sheet around me, I give her an apologetic smile as I head toward the privacy screen by the bathing pool.

“Sorry. We hadn’t heard anything about when to expect you. Just one sec and I’ll be ready to go.”

Behind the screen, I drop the sheet to the floor to pull on my clothes. I can hear the polite murmur of conversation between Eliph and the elf as they wait, but as it’s mostly about the castle, I decide to ignore it and finish getting ready. The clothes fit perfectly, but whether that’s because Eliph has a good grasp of measurements or just really spent time memorizing the shape of my body, I have no idea. All I know is that I’m wearing one of my better outfits—one that’s actually been improved on so that it’s quite probably the finest thing I’ve ever worn—and that makes me feel as if I’m wearing armor against the world.

I even pull on the soft dress socks. My matching red pumps aren’t part of this ensemble, but I don’t mind too much. They kill my feet, and if I need to drop everything and run at a moment’s notice, I don’t want to be doing that in heels. At least I’d had the presence of mind to scrape the mud off my black ankle boots and give the leather a good cleaning. They aren’t perfect—I can see the streaks of where the grime was more spread around than buffed off—but they’ll do. I therefore don’t hesitate to slide my feet into them and tighten the lacings until they are fitting snug and comfortably on my feet.

Confident that I’m put-together enough, I finger my hair self-consciously. Although I thoroughly combed it after washing, I had nothing I could use to style it. It’s curled in every direction, but that was more an annoyance than anything else. A case of hair gone wild isn’t going to hurt me. I peer at my reflection on the wall nearest me as I give my clothes and hair a final pat before I nod to myself, straighten my spine, and step out from behind the screen.

Eliph smiles appreciatively, his eyes drifting over me with hooded interest as he stands. It’s sexy as hell, and my insides melt like warm butter when he brings my hand up to press a kiss against my palm.

“You are beautiful, Ahandral,” he murmurs, his eyes shining with warmth and sincerity.

Blushing, I murmur my thanks and allow him to take my hand and place it on his forearm, tugging it into the crook of his elbow. I can tell that while I’ve been occupied he’s somehow managed to straighten his clothes so they look fresh rather than rumpled from wearing them all day, and I make a mental note to get the secret of that particular magic out of him. Ironing is my bane in a very real sense, and so I spend a fortune for my clothes to be washed and pressed by launderers.

“If you are ready, it’s right this way. I ask that you stay with me and don’t fall behind as we continue through the palace. It is not safe for most visitors,” Satharal says quietly as she opens the door and leads us out of our room.

I glance anxiously at Grimsal’s door as we pass and give Eliph’s arm a small tug.

“What about Grimsal, our goblin companion?”

The elf raises an eyebrow at me for a moment before her eyes turn toward the door thoughtfully.

“The invitation was only extended to the two of you. I assure you that the goblin’s needs will be seen to while you dine in the same manner that you have been receiving your meals today. Goblins are a distraction, one that the king prefers not to deal with at his own table, but he gives his assurances that your friend will enjoy every luxury from the privacy of his room.”

“I don’t know,” I mutter doubtfully, but Eliph tugs at my hand, drawing my attention to him.

For some reason, his horn is doing that funny glowing thing again, but the smile he gives me is all Eliph.

“The elves are very peculiar about their hospitality, and do not mesh well with goblins. I’m sure that the Lorandral king merely wishes to conduct business quickly and without incident.”

“Yes, that’s it exactly,” Satharal says, her lips curling faintly.

I stare at her, and for some reason I just want to slap that smile from her face. I can spot phony smiles a mile away, and I know this bitch is trying to get something over on me. Nothing about this feels right.

“Come, Ahandral,” Eliph says. “Let’s get this over with so we can return to our room. I am certain we will be able to leave safely first thing in the morning.”

I give him a doubtful look but press close against him, allowing him to pull me close as we continue to follow the elf into the palace.

This place is like nothing I could have imagined. Carvings in stone almost appear to shift as if alive. Heads turn eerily, their sightless stone eyes following us, and carved arches, columns, and bannisters appear to rearrange themselves at will, some of them bursting with green life right from their rock. A stone door pounds loudly, practically bulging in a warped manner as we pass, and I jump but Satharal just hurries along without any explanation. Even the shadows in the various corners feel as if they’re alive.

“This place gives me the creeps,” I whisper to Eliph as I tuck my head in close against her bicep.

He makes a soft sound of agreement, and his ears prick and turn as he tries to make note of everything around us all at once. I can feel the tension radiating through him down to the tip of his tail, which lashes uneasily against the back of my legs. I don’t like the weird way that his horn is glowing again, and there’s a fine sheen of sweat on his fur.

“Eliph?” I whisper up to him in concern. My ‘fuck-this’ meter is going off big time, and I give his arm a yank.

“We are here,” Satharal announces as she pulls open the doors. “King Varthal awaits your company.”

I freeze at the sight of the dining room. It’s indoors, but strangely not. I would swear that we’re out in the garden. Roses grow everywhere, climbing up columns and filling corners. Even the air is filled with their scent. As if going with the garden theme, there’s a dim light as if dusk had recently settled, and the long table before the throne is illuminated with numerous lanterns.

One wall that I’m sure is a window almost seamlessly blends into the garden just outside the room as silvery light from the rising moon drifts in. I imagine that if the room faced another direction it might have been lightened with the fading colors of the sunset, but this entire setting was one of purpose.

It’s really a shame I can’t package this whole look for prepping the real estate I show because this is killing it.

It’s the sharp scrape of a chair, however, that draws my attention to the throne just as the king stands. He gives massive Thranduil vibes. His hair is white and hangs straight as a pin down his back except for the elegant braids that pull it away from his face, each knotted with beautifully crafted gold leaves. It seems that long jackets are the thing here because everyone in the room wears one, even him, although his is a beautiful emerald—matching his eyes—stitched with gold.

“Thank you, Satharal. That will be all,” he instructs calmly. With an elegant hand, he gestures to the chairs across from him, a faint smile on his lips as his eyes touch me. “Guests, please be seated.”

I look down at the seat in front of me and swallow back my nausea. I just want to get the fuck out of here. At this point I’m rather willing to risk the bad end of the forest just to get away from here, but we can’t afford to lose time circling this fucking place, so I nod mutely as Eliph pulls out my chair and I sit. When Eliph takes his place at my side, I feel a little better, but I can’t ignore the fact that his horn is still glowing with that strange pale light.

“I understand that you wish for safe passage through my territory into the forests north of the kingdom.”

“Yes, King Varthal,” Eliph agrees as he leans to the side to allow room for the servants to set our plates in front of us. “We have no other safe route to reach the northern lands of the unicorn grottos beyond your borders. Our time is limited, and with fairies on our trail we are in great need of your assistance.”

“I see,” the king murmurs, and he gives a small wave of his knife as he helps himself to the food on the platter before him. “Please do continue. I would like to hear more about your circumstances and the workings of fate that have brought you to my door.”

Eliph smiles tightly but obliges the king. Meanwhile, I find myself curiously eyeing the servants and note with surprise that they obviously share physical traits with Satharal. This confirms my suspicions about the elves… There’s clearly a different servant class with their own particular phenotypes. But why would elves be serving other elves if they’re the same species? It just doesn’t match up with all the elitist bullshit I’ve noted so far. I want to ask so badly, but I can’t even seem to catch one’s eye, and Satharal has disappeared.

Disappointed, I glance down at the large bowl in front of me. Some kind of soup? A pumpkin soup maybe? It has a faintly sweet aroma with nutty edge and a hint of spices. It does smell good. I glance around the room covertly noticing that everyone appears to be eating their soup with relish. There’s a thick crusty bread on a smaller plate beside each bowl that some have taken to breaking the chunks from to dip into the soup.

All right, nothing unusual about that. My uncle Rupert takes bread to nearly every kind of sauce, soup, and chili that he enjoys, so this must be some pretty good stuff.

I don’t reach for my bread. I just want a taste of it first.

Picking up my spoon, I ladle a small amount up and bring it to my lips. The smell of the soup is even more beguiling up close. My eyelashes flutter against my cheeks as I place the spoon in my mouth.

It is very similar to pumpkin soup, though entirely out of season for it, but the flavors are also very distinct, rich and utterly unfamiliar. I take another bite and another, and before I know it, I’m staring into my empty bowl with the chaotic sound of voices talking all around me. A cold laugh makes me look, and the world spins around me. There’s a scene in Labyrinth when Sarah is being swung around in a dance at the ball and everything tilts around her crazily, eyes watching her, and numerous voices speak. That’s what I’m experiencing now.

I jump to my feet, knocking my seat back and draw even more eyes to me, everyone except Eliph. He doesn’t so much as look my way as he speaks to the king. I reach forward to grab ahold of him, but a hard hand bands around my wrist, dragging me back. Everything tilts as I’m swung away until I’m looking into the hard face of an elf with long hair pulled back in braids. It gives him a severe look that isn’t helped by the chilling smile that curves his lips as he pulls me away from the table.

I protest, my words coming out as garbled sighs, but I attempt to throw my weight as I fling back away from him only to have my other arm caught by another unsmiling male who looks down at me with disdainful pale eyes. Between the two of them, they pull me out of the room. As we exit into the hallway, I catch a glimpse of green in the shadows, but I’m unable to keep my eyes upon it because the room spins around me and I drop into darkness with a soft cry.

Eliph never looked up… He never noticed that they took me. Will he notice that I’m gone? These thoughts chase me into the darkness and in those depths, where I’m all alone, I rage and scream to be released.

Chapter 30

Eliph

Something is wrong. I have been feeling it all day, but whenever I try to focus on the strange feeling, it always slips away. It’s strange, and every time it happens it is almost as if I am caught in a dream. A lethargy descends over me where everything is out of focus and fuzzy. Colors are brighter and swim before my eyes. Even words drift by me, warped versions of themselves. I can hear myself respond, and I know I’m talking to someone when these spells come over me.

The king smiles at me and lifts his cup in salute, but I do not understand his reason for doing so. His smile widens, exposing his sharp fangs in a humorless grin. Unease fills me and I turn to look over at my mate, but I can’t seem to move my head. I’m caught in his gaze.

“Relax, my unicorn friend,” he murmurs as he stabs another bite of food from his platter. “There is no cause for alarm here. We are just having a good meal.” He pauses and cocks his head curiously. “You are enjoying it, aren’t you?”

Am I? Confusion fills me as I look to my plate, the direction of my thoughts dispersing like vapors on a wind. All I can see is that my platter is still piled high with food. I hadn’t cared for the smell of the soup, but this assortment of meats and vegetables appears quite appetizing. It would be rude if I don’t attempt to enjoy the meal. Then Steph and I can get out of here.

I glance over to her chair, and she looks up at me with a sweet smile and pops a morsel of meat into her mouth. I see that her soup bowl is empty and I’m glad that she is finally enjoying herself. She shifts in and out of focus and doesn’t smell right, but there must be something here in the elf kingdom that I am having a bad reaction to. When we return to our rooms, I will lie down.

“Are you well?” King Varthal asks, his eyebrows rising.

I swallow and nod. “Yes, I just seem to be feeling a little unwell.”

“A shame. Perhaps you would like to retire to your room for the night? At first light, you have my permission to leave with your mate… and your goblin friend,” he says with a grimace.

I incline my head with gratitude. “Thank you. That is very kind of you,” I murmur as I stumble to my feet. I hold my hand out to my ahandral and smile when I feel her cool fingers slide into my grasp. I truly must be ill because I can’t even sense the magic ahandral bond flickering between us, but the touch of her flesh is soothing enough that I give her hand a squeeze and step away from the table.

I am nearing the door when it bursts open with a loud slam of stone connecting with considerable force. I stumble back a step and blink at a familiar male standing in front of me.

“Grimsal? Where have you been?” I ask, a small frown puckering my brow. I can hear the strange slurring in my words.

The male’s bright green eyes pierce through the fog in my mind as he meets my gaze.

“What have I been doing? I’ve been trying to save our hides. What the hell are you doing is the question!”

Save our hides? I do not understand. The king has been nothing less than a gracious host this entire evening.

“Steph and I are retiring to our rooms—and no, you are not invited. I am unwell, it seems, and need to rest. The king has kindly given as permission to travel through his kingdom in the morning, so you can rest assured on that.”

Grimsal shakes his head.

“There’s something wrong with you, all right, or else you would notice that Steph is gone, and you are about to return to your rooms with an elf instead of your mate!”

“Don’t listen to that goblin. You know how their race is… Always conniving liars and backstabbers. They are not like the civilized long-lived races. They are not like us, unicorn. He’s just trying to trick you to get you to leave your mate. He wants her. He’s always wanted her, and you know that!”

I stare at the goblin, my fur prickling. King Varthal is correct. That male has been interested in my mate since the very first day. He would not part from our company because of her and only her! My lips pull back savagely from my teeth as I rumble in warning.

Grimsal stares at me and shakes his head. “This is strange. This isn’t like you at all. It’s like you’re caught in a dream… or… a spell. That’s it! Wake up, Eliph!” he shouts as he races toward me.

I draw back in surprise at his sudden attack and instinctively reach for my fetch form. The air ripples around me, but it doesn’t matter; I fight through it as my magic contorts my muscle and bone. Any pain is worth protecting my mate!

My fetch form feels like its bursting out of my skin, but I push through the agony and leap forward a short distance before rearing up. I strike out with my hooves in immediate promise of death, warning the goblin not to get any closer.

Confusion swamps my senses when he slides to a stop and lets out a wild laugh. “That’s it! You can hear me now! Hear me: our minds are bonded, remember? You know my truth. You can feel me and hear my words penetrating through whatever enchantment you’re under.”

Like a spotlight, his word pierce deep into my mind. I can hear him speaking, his words about my mate and some kind of illusion. I shake my head, but everything around me begins to crumble as I look around in a panic. The colors bleed and tear in my mind, finally settling into normal hues once more. The king glares at me from where he stands in front of his throne, the rose garden enchantment on the room becoming brighter and clearer as it was meant to look to those not under another’s influence. I turn my head to my mate, and I shout out with despair and prance away from the elf at my side as she wilts.

“No!” a voice growls. “This is not possible! A unicorn doesn’t have the bond with anyone other than his mare!”

Rage fills me at those words and the familiar bite of the voice. The guardian of the gate. He squeezes the tip of my horn between his fingers, his magic flaring through it. So that is how he did it and his purpose for desiring the bit of my horn. Not as an honor marking as some keep them, nor to be used in healing magic to empower some particular spell in the future. He’s using it directly against me, to control me.

Unfortunately, my movements are still sluggish as I push back against his magic with my own, my grip on reality firmly anchored in the goblin behind me as I round on the treacherous elf. My horn tip pulses brighter, and I feel a crippling pain course through me that nearly makes me drop to my knees. I don’t stop—I continue to struggle forward, my hooves drawing up and striking every few feet in my frustration.

With my head down, I jab my horn toward elves who attempt to approach me, though they are few as most have fled the reception room. One male who gets too close gets gored deep in the side when I swing my head defensively. The gatekeeper is withdrawing behind the guards as he continues to shake his head.

“This is not possible,” he reiterates. “You are ours. That is the whole purpose behind saving you from the hunt and bringing you within our walls. We were able to bargain with the fairies in exchange for you and your remaining magic. You have no power here. I own you and all of your magic with this!” he shouts, spittle flying from his mouth.

I bellow in denial and charge forward only to be hit with a blast of magic rooting me to the spot. My sides heave as I swing my head and fight against the compulsion. They will die. The guardian and the king were fated to no longer be among the living from the very moment they plotted against me and my mate.

I writhe against the compulsion and bellow again, barely acknowledging the presence of the goblin as he draws up to my side and plucks something from his belt.

“Time to even the playing field, I believe, now that you’ve got him distracted,” Grimsal mutters as he brings up a reed to his mouth.

There’s a whistle amid the chaos, but the thwak of a dart hitting the guardian resonates through my mind. As a black spiderweb of gorgon’s poison crawls through his skin from where the small dart pierces his neck, I can feel his hold on my magic and body fading away. It is only when he slumps to the floor, his lifeless eyes staring out ahead, that I am able to pull completely free.

With a feral snarl, I gallop over him, relishing the crush of his bones under my hooves as I head directly for the king who is withdrawing against his throne.

“You cannot harm me! I am the king of Lorandral!” Varthal shouts, and deep within my fetch form I smile grimly.

No kingdom nor empire lasts forever.

Lowering my head, I charge forward, my magic gathering around me to blind my foe as my horn sinks deep. It tears through the muscle and bone of his chest until I pierce his heart. I feel his weight collapse around me, but I throw him off disdainfully and watch as his body slumps to the marble floors of his great room. His blood flows, staining the white stones beneath him, but I turn away, no longer caring as I shift back and grab ahold of the goblin by the neck.

He grunts in surprise but lets out a laugh when I drag him close to embrace him.

“Thank you, my friend,” I whisper. “Now tell me, where is my mate?”

“I’ll take you to her. They traded her over to the fairies, and his royal highness himself came to retrieve her, but they didn’t get far before they decided to camp for the night. When you get ahold of her, you can thank her for accidentally bonding me to you. I’m surprised that the power held out this long, but glad for it!” he shouts as he darts out the doors.

“What?” I shout as I tear off after him, a scowl replacing my expression of relief as he laughs.

“That bond stuff… The shit is only temporary!” he shouts back as he pops out before I can close my hands around him again and reappears a safe distance away. “Come on, unicorn! Let’s go get your mate!”

Yes, my mate!

The elation that fills me at that thought quickly withers into despair. What am I even thinking? Not even being among the elves with all their particular laws kept my mate safe. What if nothing can?

I can’t keep her here with me in Lehamenin. I must see to it that she is returned safely to Fahal. The goblin would do it. He would see her safely after I am gone. I can’t endanger her further, and this is the price I must pay for going to her world to seek her.

Chapter 31

Steph

I’m in a fucking cage. Like an oversized birdcage with big metal bars—iron bars even because the fairies are careful not to touch it. Motherfuckers. I glare at them as they settle in for the night. They seem to be accustomed to being out in the late hours of the night, but it’s been hours since we left Lorandral.

Oh, we’re still within their kingdom. The fairies were bitching about just how big their territory is just a little while ago. Something about how fairy territories should be just as vast and grand… Blah blah blah. I didn’t want to listen to their pissing and moaning. I do spend quite a bit of time, however, glaring holes through their heads.

If looks could kill they would all be goners, especially the big one with the fancy black diamond wings: Prince Halathnar. The goliath among fairies, it seems, since he stands above them all at nearly the same height as Eliph.

I hate Halathnar more than I could ever claim to hate anyone. I don’t even think I’ve known hate before now. Every time he looks at me, I feel like he’s imagining how I taste. I’m just a thing for him to consume. It could be the licking his lips thing whenever he glances my way. If I were more optimistic, I would probably think that he’s just got a really bad case of dry lips, but I am a pessimistic bitch and own that shit. There is no glass half full; there’s only Halathnar and his thirsty ass staring at me. Steph the blue plate special, and I’m sure I’ll taste magically delicious.

I groan as I hang my head and lightly roll it in an attempt to ease the tension.

This is going to be a long fucking night.

“Human… human,” a voice hisses, and I turn my head to the right, staring off in the direction of the whispers.

“Yeah?” I croak.

I really need a drink of water or something. This is a hundred times worse than cotton mouth—and no, I don’t smoke, but I’ve been on some wicked pain meds after a minor surgery. I sound like an eighty-year-old chain smoker.

The bushes rustle and a slight figure stepsout. As the moonlight hits her, I blink in recognition at Satharal, though I’m not particularly overjoyed to see an elf.

“Oh… It’s you,” I mumble. “Forgive me if I can’t curtsey or whatever it is elves expect lowly humans to do. You did set me up to be fairy food, so I guess that’s about it.”

She grimaces at my tone and shakes her head.

“I swear—I’m not like those of the Lorandral court. The high elves engross themselves in their court politics and their schemes. Wood elves, like me, are indentured into service with the promise of protection. It is the cost of having our woodlands invaded by them. We either enter their service or are expelled in the wilderness far beyond our homeland borders.”

“That’s really rough,” I reply. “So what made you come for me? It seems that you’ve got enough on your plate.”

A faint pink color stains her cheeks, but she thins her lips stubbornly as she approaches the side of the cage. She reaches out for the lock, but I kick the bar with enough force that she stumbles back in surprise.

“Don’t touch. They’re iron,” I hiss out in warning.

She pales visibly. “I thought it to be blackened copper. Who would have so much iron in our land?”

“Danger fairy over there and his merry band of psychopaths,” I answer with a jab of my thumb in the direction of the camp.

“Oh… Who has the key?”

I slant a surprised look at her because, damn, that’s pretty gutsy. If she’s fronting, I would be surprised because there is nothing but resolve in her expression as she looks. I point to my favorite fairy nemesis who not only assaulted me in my apartment but also took pains to show up for my capture. Bitch.

“Dehandra, the one sleeping over there wearing black. She’s the one whose been flashing around the violet-red wings of hers if you’ve been close enough to notice.”

“Ah, that one,” Satharal says grimly as she squints at the campfire. “Very well. I’ll be right back.”

“Be careful!” I whisper after her.

The little elf is off her rocker, but I have to admire her as I watch her pick her way among the sleeping fairies. She’s at least got one advantage going for her: the fairies decided to party it up and are all sleeping off some pretty heavy drinking. I lose sight of her as she ducks down close to a cluster of them where Dehandra sleeps, but when she pops back up, it’s with a victorious smile and she walks silently back toward me.

Her grin is triumphant as she approaches my cage and lifts the keys for my inspection.

“I could fucking kiss you!” I exclaim in relief.

Surprise whitens her already pale countenance and I laugh quietly and rush to reassure her. “It’s just an expression. I’m really so very grateful. Now get me out of here.”

A tiny smile twists her lips, and she nods to me as she gets to work fitting the key into the lock. With a tiny pop, the door swings open and I jump out from the confines of the cage. Satharal grips my forearm and leans in close to whisper urgently.

“Come on. We have to get you somewhere safe. I saw the goblin leave—I think to retrieve your mate—but I don’t hold much hope for him while the king has control over him.”

“I wouldn’t bet on those odds.” I laugh quietly. “My mate is stubborn as a mule and that goblin seems to get in and out of trouble effortlessly. We just need to lie low somewhere, and they’ll find me.”

“Oh, I don’t think they will,” a voice interrupts as something sharp stabs deep into my leg, making me collapse with a pained shout. I bite my lip, holding in my screams as I turn my head to stare up at the fairy. How the hell did I not see the prince move from his spot around the fire?

He approaches at a casual, unhurried pace, and I scream in agony when he grabs hold of the end of the spear that was driven into my leg and pushes further so that it pierces deep into the dirt beneath me, anchoring me to the ground. Satharal immediately drops to my side, her hands sliding over me in an attempt to comfort as she grabs hold of the spear. I scream again to the unhinged laughter of the prince when she pulls fruitlessly.

The spear won’t budge.

I grab her hand and pull her over so that she’s crouched in front of me.

“Go,” I beg. “Find Eliph, wherever he is. Please. Run away!”

She shakes her head, her arms clasping around me. “I won’t leave you here alone,” she growls. “I won’t let them kill you just because my false king permits it. I will right this wrong that my people allowed by our docile acceptance.”

Tearing away from me, she leaps to her feet, her lips pulling back from her teeth as she lets out a savage roar.

Even through my haze of pain, my eyes track the prince as he circles us, the surprise in his expression at her roar shifting to an oily smile as his eyes narrow on the elf.

“So surprising to see an elf out here all alone—and helping my lawful prey escape, one that your king gave me full rights to, I might add. So what should I do with such a traitor full of so much delicious magic?” He practically purrs over the last two words, making me shudder.

Satharal braces, and I can see some defensive sparks of magic gathering at her hands. He does too, but he just laughs and extends one scary-looking hand tipped with vicious claws toward her.

The elf lashes out with her magic, and all manner of vines erupt from his skin, making him howl with anger and pain, but he somehow hooks his hand around her neck despite the painful ravaging of his body and drags her up into the air even as black vessels burst oozing with blood all over his skin.

Her eyes widen in shock at the impossible maneuver as he dangles her up in front of me and draws her close to his mouth.

I can see her eyes widen in shock and horror. She is still fighting him, and he’s practically deformed now with the vines making a mess of muscle and tissue, but he doesn’t stop. Whatever magic he ingested to make him so powerful, her magic can’t stop him, and I see the moment she realizes that. Her eyes dilate and turn toward me in silent apology as his teeth rip deep into her neck and tear away the flesh.

I press my fist into the dirt, sobs shaking me as I hear every lusty swallow of blood and groan of delight until, finally, I hear her body drop beside me. I turn my head up to face my would-be murderer, hate shining through the tears that drip down my cheeks. His smile widens as he stares down at me, and in those eyes I can see the madness of the hunt brimming in their depths and every horror I experienced as I was chased by those creatures through the woods. He was the head of the vile snake. He licks the blood dripping from his lips and teeth as he crouches down and leans in close.

“Your death will not be so fast, but it shall be even sweeter,” he murmurs. “But for now… just a taste.”

Gripping my chin with his fingers, he leans in closer and tips my head to expose the vulnerable skin of my neck. I stare out at the stars, and they glitter at the tear-filled edges of my vision.

Satharal… What a fucking waste of life, all thanks to the games that these high elves and fairy courts play with everyone else around them as if they’re only pawns.

In the distance, a light brightens like a star, but so much larger. It’s not falling from the sky or hanging above, but now that I focus on it, I can see it’s careening at impossible speeds through the forest, growing larger at its approach.

Halathnar stiffens as everything brightens around him, and he straightens to face that blinding light. There’s no impact, though, just a breeze of magic that sweeps out. It touches me but curls away from my body as it continues to flood out through the forest. I think I see a guard collapse in the distance, but when Halathnar staggers, I gape up at him.

He takes one heavy step forward and then another before he sags, dropping to one knee. He remains in that position, his head bent low as he tries to steady himself before he finally crumples to the ground. I stare at him in wonder, unable to comprehend what has just happened, so I don’t even notice another presence until I feel the spear ripped from my leg. The scream I let loose is deafening, and I hear a mumbled apology beside me.

“Sorry. I thought it kinder to do it that way,” he says as he kneels close to me and drags up my skirt to begin working on my wound.

He only just gets it bandaged up when I’m swept off the ground all together in the steely arms of my mate. His entire body trembles against mine as he holds me and I wrap my arms tightly around him, determined to never let go.

I can’t. I need him.

And with a wellspring of sudden clarity, I finally know what my decision is. I can’t leave him. As much as I love my family—and gods know I do—I never want to know a moment of separation from him again. Everything else, we will find a way to work it out.

Shaking, I pull back and brush the mass of hair out of my face as I look around helplessly.

“What did you do?” I whisper.

“They sleep,” he replies. “We can go through and kill them all if you like, but unlike the situation with the hunt, they were mostly in one place and at rest so I was able to cast sleep over all of them for a period of several hours.”

I look out at them and shake my head. I could have sentenced Satharal to death because of her perceived alliance with the high elves had she not corrected my opinion. Everything is a lot more complicated than it appears on the surface, but that’s the way of things, I suppose.

I shake my head. “No. Let them live. Let’s just remove the head of the snake and be done.” I stare down meaningfully at the sleeping body of Halathnar.

Grimsal pulls out his blade and holds it out, his expression solemn.

“Do you wish to do the honors, or would you prefer one of us dispatch him.”

The idea of killing someone makes me queasy, but I take the shortsword from him. The anger brewing in me needs this resolution. I need to do it for Satharal—and for me.

Curling my fingers around the pommel of the sword, I walk forward until I stand directly over the fairy prince. I stare down at him dispassionately and raise the blade, angling it over his neck. My lips twist in a hard smile as I realize that this will be the end of it.

“Goodnight… sweet prince,” I whisper, and I stab down with all my weight.

Blood splatters over my skirt, and there’s a terrible gurgling sound, but Eliph pulls me away so I don’t have to see any more. I whisper how happy I am that it’s over and turn into his embrace to accept whatever comfort he offers, but I’m surprised when he passes me to Grimsal.

Even the goblin raises his eyebrows at that, but my unicorn shakes his head sadly and steps away.

“There’s no guarantee that it’s over and I refuse to risk you any further.” He draws a deep breath and glances into the woods, away from the elvish kingdom. “The way from here to the Heart of Wells is direct. Grimsal, you will ride double and hold to her tight. The speed at which I run will require all of your strength to assure she remains seated without incident.”

“Wait… What? No!” I shout.

“Maybe you should talk this out,” the goblin begins uncertainly.

“No. It’s decided,” Eliph snaps. “My mate will live a long, happy life in safety, without me. That is the best gift that I can offer… to let her go.”

“Eliph, hell no. We’re going to talk about this right now…”

My mate gives me one last look but doesn’t stop to talk. His fae form melts away, his body reforming as I stand there screaming at him to stop. Grimsal’s arms tighten around me.

“I’m sorry, Steph,” he whispers as he lifts me up onto Eliph’s back and hoists himself behind me.

I jab an elbow into him, trying to fight him off, but his grip tightens around me as Eliph takes several quick steps. Those steps break into a trot for only moment before he’s galloping. The trees zip past and then faster and faster. I feel like I’m nearly floating as he increases his speed, the light of his horn blazing as familiar aetheric wings unfold and we burst forward at the speed of a falling star.

A falling star… Of course. That explains what I saw.

My star is falling now and taking me to the end of our journey, and I want to scream at the unfairness of at all.

“Sleep,” Grimsal whispers against my ear, the sparks of magic dancing off the word. “Sleep.”

So I sag in his embrace and sleep, unaware of the passage of space and time, locked in only the turmoil of my mind as my beloved mate carries me away to the Heart of Wells.

Chapter 32

Steph

When I wake, I’m surrounded by a mist that lays over me like a sparkling blanket of magic. Despite that, the sun is warm on me as it filters down through the trees. Birds sing somewhere, and I’m pretty sure that I catch the buzz of a bee nearby. My body aches as I force myself up into a seated position, but the pain in my thigh is surprisingly absent. I pull up my skirt to examine the injury only to find that the bandage is gone and there’s a pinkish stripe of newly healed skin. I explore it tentatively with my fingers. How is this possible? Unless…

“The power of the unicorn’s well has completely healed you, Stephanie Bennet,” a deep, melodic voice intrudes.

Startled, I glance up to find a somber fae male seated on a nearby rock. Although he is handsome and ageless in appearance, I still get the distinct feeling that he is beyond ancient.

“Beforal, I presume.”

His pale blue eyes watch me with a quiet interest before the corner of his mouth tips up in a smile.

“You are a very observant one, aren’t you?”

I shrug. “Just a matter of putting two and two together. I’m obviously in a unicorn’s grotto if I take all this sparkly mist as a clue. And you are a unicorn. And I also know that we were heading to the Heart of Wells… therefore, Beforal.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” he agrees with a light chuckle.

I glance around curiously, seeing only sunlit forest, fields of flowers, a few darting lights that might be some sort of bug or pixie, and lots of the sparkly mist… but not Eliph.

“Speaking of my mate, where is he?”

“He is awaiting you at the well, but I wish to speak to you first.” At my raised eyebrow, he grimaces. “Very well. I demanded it and reminded him who is guardian of this well.”

“And he respected that?”

“Not particularly. But the threat of summoning the great serpent of the deep waters to set him straight was enough to gain compliance… as begrudgingly offered as it was,” he observes.

I chuckle at just how unhappy he probably was and shake my head. Even here, he was going to be ridiculously overprotective, and yet still thought he was doing the best thing by getting rid of me.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What did you want to talk to me about?”

His expression turns grave as he eyes me critically.

“Are you certain that you wish to dissolve the bond between you? Rarely is it that I’ve seen such a bond between a unicorn and his mare in all the centuries I have been alive.”

“Nope,” I say, making it pop with emphasis. “I definitely do not want to dissolve the bond, and that’s what I was telling his hardheaded ass when he carried me here. I want him and me together forever, happily ever after in his grotto, maybe even popping out a few little unicorns after a century or so once the honeymoon period winds down.”

“I see. I fear that I have gravely misunderstood the situation. If you will come with me,” he mumbles as he stands with a grace that I would kill to have.

Oh well. Maybe after a few centuries, I’ll get there. I’m certainly not graceful now as I stumble to my feet and trot after him.

The winding path that we take through the forest is enchanting. I would almost believe that we’re walking through a carefully tended garden with all the wildflowers blooming everywhere. Another flash captures my attention, and I gasp as a vividly colored pixie hovers in front of me, staring back at me with equal curiosity until four silvery males with pale wings swam her, humming until she flutters away with her strange swarm around her.

“Pixies,” Beforal says, answering my unspoken question. “Male hives are jealously protective of their queens. The well is just through here,” he says as he steps into a cavern that opens into a wall of pale gray rock.

I slip in after him, hoping like hell that I’m not going to have to descend deep into some dark confines below ground.

To my surprise, it’s nothing like that. Rather than a brutally inhospitable cave, steps are carved into the white stone leading down the side of the wall along a torchlit path. I hear Beforal’s voice echo back to me as he urges me to not lag behind and slowly set out down the stairs until I arrive at another, narrower fissure in a wall of rock. I pass through this too, since I’m already too far down to just give up and crawl back up the steep staircase, but rather than stairs I enter a large, curved room dominated by a giant pool.

“That’s one hell of a well,” I whisper.

“Well, it is a fairly flexible term for what these magical reservoirs actually are, but it works well enough,” Beforal replies behind me, his voice so close that I jump and spin around to face him.

And Eliph. My heart hammers with pleasure at the sight of him, and yet there’s a sinking dread at the solemn expression on his face as he stares back at me. This is no greeting of a lover happy to see me. He is almost distant and there is something wrong with his appearance. His horn doesn’t glow, but there are tiny drops of sparkling water beading all over him.

“What’s going on?” I ask slowly.

Beforal casts a casual look over at my mate. “Eliph is preparing to rejoin the Heart of Wells from which all unicorns come.”

Rejoin the… what?

“Excuse me?” I demand. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? I thought there was no well joining unless his magic withered away before the bond could either be sealed or broken?”

The elder unicorn sighs, and I feel a prickle of anxiety fall over me.

“What is it?”

“Eliph was only partially truthful, it seems. Only a sealed mating would prevent a bonded unicorn from returning to the well. In this case, he will merely return sooner, painlessly rather than suffering as he might in his own grotto. This is the cost of severing the bond.”

I stare at Beforal and then at my mate as the true horror of the situation dawns. Eliph was going to die no matter what happened if I decided not to stay.

“You lied to me? Why?” I demand, my heart fracturing with grief as I watch a drop bead away from his body and drift into the air.

It sparkles like a tiny star before sinking into the glowing pool of water. A sob breaks from me then with the full scope of just how horrible this is, my tears dribbling down my face before they too are drawn to the well with the sparks of magic they contain.

“Because,” Eliph whispers, his voice thin as an echo, “I wanted a real chance to win your heart. I would rather die knowing that I had some time with my mate than die alone and knowing nothing but my solitude. So I tricked you for that chance. Then when the fairies attacked, I had hoped that sealing the bond would protect you from them. But that was selfish and I see that now. I’m sorry, Ahandral.”

I wipe the tears away, my jaw wobbling with unspent grief that I just won’t allow to flow. I know if I break down and really start crying that it will be a while before I stop. And I need to save my mate just as he saved me in so many ways.

“What changed, then? If you thought the bond would be enough to keep me safe why do all of this? I don’t want this. You wanted a chance to win my heart… Mission accomplished. I love you.”

His eyes close as grief strains his expression, making my heart break wider.

“Please don’t tell me that this is where this ends,” I demand, my voice cracking.

“Please don’t cry, my love,” Eliph begs, his ghostly hands reaching out as he approaches me to wipe the tears from my cheeks. “I need you to be safe and happy.”

“Then why do you want to send me back to my world where I won’t be safe and I won’t be happy without you?”

“You could die here. Fairies could attack our grotto if they find it. I can’t bear to see my mate killed.”

“So you think it’s okay to let me watch you die? You don’t get to make that decision for me. You don’t get to decide what’s good for me just because you think you’re saving me. You already saved me, Eliph. You gave me back everything I thought I had lost and healed the pain that I’ve been carrying around. If you say that you’re going to rejoin the Heart of Wells and force me to go back there… it’s just not happening,” I snarl as I wrap my arms tightly around him. “Because you are not going anywhere without me.”

“Steph!” he cries out in alarm.

I look down and see what he does. At the full contact of our bodies, and maybe my declaration, we’re both dissolving together, the tiny beads of water dancing around what remains of our bodies. I look my mate in the eye and smile tearfully.

“There is no me without you anymore. We’re together. Magic bond, ahandral mates. So you decide what it’s going to be, ahandral,” I whisper harshly. “Do we take a chance on life and love, or do we dance together forever in the depths of the Heart of Wells?”

He looks at me, the wonder his eyes so brilliant that they draw me in.

“Are you sure of this, my heart-spark?”

“I’ve never been more certain than anything in my life.”

“And what of your family?”

“You are my family too… and it’s not like we’re permanently tied to the grotto, right? I can go back and see them on holidays and every now and then just to check up on how everyone is doing.”

“It’s not easy to watch those you love grow old, ahandral,” he reminds me sadly.

“No. But love is worth the price.”

“I love you,” he whispers, his face drawing closer.

And those three little words heal up the last remaining wound in my heart as I lean in close and place my lips against his.

“I love you too,” I whisper against his mouth and surrender to his kiss.

A roar of water rushes and in the distance, I can hear the crack of words being spoken as the droplets around us spin and merge into each other. They go faster, creating a vortex of light that whips around us. It snaps through us, drawing the bond together, tying us together. A powerful light fills behind my eyes, and a painful pressure encompasses my head. I can feel the edge of darkness descending as the stars of our magic merge together.

Don’t let me go, I cry out into the void.

Never.

Epilogue

Steph

When we surface, we find a goblin waiting for us, a satisfied smile on his face. He holds his red felt hat in his hands and gives me a small bow.

“I just knew you two would see it through,” he declares. “And nice horn, kid,” he adds with a playful wink as he gestures at the delicate pearly spiral sprouting from my brow.

“Not like anything else changed,” I mutter. “I didn’t really want fur, but the tail might have been fun. I guess I just get to be a weird-looking human with a horn.”

“A beautiful ahandral human with a horn,” my mate corrects as he pecks me lightly on the cheek. “And one who will have a most beautiful fetch form.”

I roll my eyes but smile with undisguised pleasure.

“So what’s next for you?” I ask Grimsal curiously. “Planning on tagging along with us to our grotto? Drive Eliph nuts the entire time since he can’t escape you?”

The goblin chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m afraid not. You’re heading off to your next adventure, and as for that little gift, the mind talk burned out in that last rush we had that carried us to the well. With two unicorns, I would be a rather grumpy third wheel if I can’t communicate. No, I’m thinking of going back to Fahal and stirring up trouble somewhere. Maybe see if I can woo any of the ladies in the Midwest… or Vegas,” he says after a moment of thought.

“Good lord, be gentle with them,” I tease, earning a saucy wink from our friend.

“I make no promises,” he says with a naughty laugh before popping out on a cloud of dust.

“Damn. I already miss the bastard,” I sigh.

Eliph rests a hand on my shoulder and smiles down at me as I tilt my head back to meet his eyes.

“Do not worry, my love. I have no doubt that he will return to torment us,” he whispers in my ear as his arms come down around me in a warm hug. “In the meantime, shall we go home?”

“Home…” I sigh. “I suppose we are not talking back to my condo. Harriet would scream over this.”

My mate gives me a perplexed look and shakes his head. “Not yet, but soon, I promise. For now, we go to our grotto. Once we’ve re-established our tie to the well then we can return to your home for a short visit.”

I scoot in closer, and he wraps his arms around me reflexively with a sound of contentment.

“Like a honeymoon. I like that. So, the question now is: am I riding or walking?” I ask with a playful grin as I pull out of his embrace and catch his hand with mine, tugging him along after me.

My mate’s laughter is sweet as he reels me in and plants a kiss on my lips. “I was thinking of running. Call to your fetch form, my love. Know that you are a unicorn now and embrace the change,” he instructs as he draws back to give me space.

I press my lips together to hold in the squeal of excitement as I close my eyes and stretch out my mind into my magic… and find my other form waiting there. Although the shifting of bone and muscle hurts, the pain doesn’t last, and when I open my eyes again, I’m staring down at a midnight coat. Curious as to the rest of me, I drop my head and see a long, dark mane that sweeps down to hang close to my eyes in a feathery light caress.

Astounded, I lift my head to the sky and luxuriate in my new form. My nostrils flare, my ears turning to catch every sound. Everything is sensitive and sharp in this form, and I find that I want to explore them all—every scent and sound in my new world, every sight.

A soft brush of a muzzle against my neck catches my attention, and I turn to see my mate’s loving gaze. He nips at my neck as he sidles up to me, brushing the larger bulk of his body against mine. Turning my head to look back over my backside, I smile inwardly when I lift my tail and give it a flick.

This is so much fun! I enthuse.

Well then, let’s try your fetch form out, Eliph challenges as he takes off ahead of me.

My laughter rings clear as a bell through my mind as I take off after him, my gallop wild and ungainly, but swift. Before long, I’m creeping alongside him and then everything starts to blur as I feel the magic at the center of me respond. I lift my hooves a bit higher, slowing myself only slightly but not enough to stop the change.

My mate nudges me with a shoulder, his breath billowing in silent encouragement.

Don’t panic… Now we fly.

Gossamer wings of energy extend around me in a deep violet, and as they fan, the world opens up around me as I travel effortlessly. The forest around us has dissolved into crystalline magic as we seem to come just shy of moving between worlds. This isn’t the void, but it’s starry ether as we become a part of the world that we travel through. Everything is sparks of magic, even beneath my hooves, which provokes a joyous laugh from me.

I’m dancing on stars!

My mate’s happy laughter chases me as we race each other, our horns glowing with our magic until the world expands once more and a beautiful sight comes into focus.

Tall trees stand everywhere, many of them bearing bioluminescent mushrooms that glow like small staircases up their sides. Wild vines packed with blooms fall from trees and brush, and flowers and berries grow all over. And at the heart of this is a great pool of glowing water beside an ivory keep. The little two-story castle at the opposite shore is covered with roses and honeysuckle, and the sight of it draws me in even as a spiral of mist rises from the pool in welcome.

Hooves flashing, we splash into the pool, our bodies twisting in a playful frolic, and we follow the small shore around to the structure just as a door opens, welcoming us home.

Epilogue II

Eliph

“Do not overexert yourself,” I murmur to my mate as I help her up the stairs to her condo. “I do not know how you talked me into this. We shouldn’t have even been thinking of leaving the grotto so soon to our foal’s birth.”

My mate glances back at me over her shoulder, her coal black eyes shimmer subtly with a gleam of purple as she grins.

“Hey, you are the one who got me knocked up in a hurry. Whatever happened to unicorns being slow to breed?” she quips with a chuckle that never fails to send a lick of excitement through my blood. “Or should I remind you that you also never mentioned the fact that once I get to be in my third trimester that I will be stuck in my fetch form until our baby is ready to be born? Well, the baby is ready, and I have two legs again. I want my baby born here around my family.”

She waggles a finger at me, and I captured it in my hand and plant a small kiss at its tip.

“Some details escaped my memory,” I admit, “but traveling here while you carry our foal...”

“Is a great idea,” she interrupts. “I want to share this with my family, and you did promise a visit.”

“That I did,” I sigh in agreement. “I just didn’t imagine that you would wish to travel the portal while it is nearly your time for birthing. I made a perfect place within the grotto for our foal, and now it will be at least four months before he will be old enough to safely travel the portal with us.”

“And you did a wonderful job,” my mate consoles me with a brush of her lips against mine. “I just know that it will be the perfect place to raise our son. But first family. We will have all the time in the world with our baby in the grotto, afterward.”

“I worry, Ahandral, but I can deny you nothing,” I murmur as I loop my arms around her, holding her close against me.

And because of that I have jealously protected her every step of the way as we traveled through the human world. I protected her with every magic I could think of and kept an illusion over her at all times so that no one would guess she is a unicorn’s mare. Even the possibility that someone might suspect makes my blood run cold with true terror.

I know that she senses my fear because her small hand pats mine where it is clutched protectively around her belly.

“It’s going to be okay,” she assures me quietly.

“Yes, of course,” I breathe and relax my grip on her as the door opens and a familiar human offspring stares at us in surprise.

I almost don’t recognize the female because Harriet has sprouted up over the last year by a few inches and her face has become more angular as it has lost some of the baby roundness, but the squeal of happiness she lets out is full of the same, familiar enthusiasm that makes me smile. With a tiny, excited hop, she throws herself into Steph’s arms with enough strength that I stiffen a little and open my mouth to protest.

“Don’t worry, a bit of jostling won’t hurt that baby any,” a warm voice speaks at my elbow and I turn to greet my mate’s dam.

Her smile is genuine as she looks me over, her eyes lingering on my horn for a moment and then on Steph’s before making a satisfied hum in her throat as her eyes drop down again at my mate’s rounded belly.

“Well, it does seem that everything has worked out just fine between the two of you,” she drawls with a low chuckle. “My baby has her eyes all lit up in a way I thought I would never see again, and she’s got someone to love and dote on her like she deserves. I can’t say exactly how I feel about the horn, but I suspect it will grow on me. You do love and dote on her right,” she says as she squints at me.

“Of course,” I reply with a small frown, unable to see why anyone would doubt that.

“That’s an understatement,” my mate teases as she gently extracts herself from Harriet to rejoin me at my side. She threads her fingers through mine as she grins up at me mischievously. “I don’t think I can ever complain of not being spoiled enough by my mate,” she murmurs.

The happy smile that wreaths her dam’s face is one of dignified beauty and warmth, and full of approval as she looks upon me. There is no suspicion in her eyes, just the kind of welcome I never expected from anyone. Looping her arm with mine she gives me a gentle tug and leads me into the house where my mate’s sister, Tonya I recall, looks up from where she is reclined on the couch. With a happy shout, she scrambles from the couch to embrace my mate with much laughter between the sisters, and then to my surprise, she welcomes me as well in a shockingly tight hug!

I do not know what to do with touches not coming from my mate, so I stand awkwardly in the embrace, looking to my mate for guidance or just plain rescue as I am squeezed tightly. The only thing that keeps me from being alarmed is the sparkle of amusement in Steph’s eyes. My ahandral’s lips part but only one word comes from them.

“Family,” she murmurs softly.

I look at the females as they surround us with activity and gossip, and Harriet begging shamelessly to see our fetch forms—something which my mate indulges with softly spoken words of caution from me to happy shrieks greeting her fetch form from her niece—a strange happiness settles over me. My mate is as beautiful in fetch form as in her human form and I love her equally as both. To see the dark unicorn mare filling a given space never fails to steal my breath. To see the wonder on her family’s face, however, it is beyond compare.

I was my parents’ only foal and they had been gone from the living world centuries now, so it is perhaps I have forgotten or not realized what it meant to be a part of a family. Seeing this love and acceptance, hearing the laughter filling the room along with the playful bickering, makes something ease deep within me bloom.

I’m entertained with wild stories of my mate’s youth and fed so much food that I doubt my ability to walk out of there, but I love all of it. Every touch was done with feeling as a manner of connection, and every word exchanged full of love. Arms embraced me as one of them even as the exclaimed excitedly over the arrival of our foal.

Family. Yes, my mate was right for us to begin our family here with them. I want my foal to experience this kind of love, something which guarantees many more regular visits in the future as far as I’m concerned. And so, I am happy to have them close on hand three days later when my son arrives.

He looks like any unicorn male. His soft fur covering his entire body, and his tiny tuft of a tail whipping around him angrily. Although he is as ivory as any unicorn stallion, he has much of his mother’s beautiful features in the shape of his chin and mouth, and the deep velvety eyes with the slightest cast of purple on the dark depths. His horn is barely a bud as any foal, but I am certain that it is larger and more pronounced than many foals. He will have powerful magic when he matures, I am certain.

But more than anything, I am proud to share him with my new family.

“Isn’t he just the most precious little one,” my mate’s dam murmurs. “Looks just like his mama too,” she chuckles as my son wrinkles his face in a fierce scowl.

“Good lord, so it is,” Tonya laughs, and my mate sticks her tongue out at her in jest.

“I don’t see where I get the reputation for being the scowler,” Steph protests. “You would think that everyone believes that I am the stubborn one around here.”

A quiet laugh escapes me as I sit beside her on the bed and drop a loving kiss upon the top of her head as she watches Harriet coo over our son, her little arms folded around him as she takes her turn to hold him. She is fascinated with him in every way and is talking to him in a low voice that forewarns of plots between children in the near future.

But my gaze is hungry for my mate and I look down at her, my heart so full of love that that it feels like it can barely fit inside of my chest.

“Not stubborn at all,” I tease. “But just enough for a unicorn to wager everything on a small trick.”

“One I’m not going to forget any time soon,” my mate retorts. “Don’t think I’m going to forget it any time soon.”

“I will be happy to continue passing my days making it up to you,” I murmur, enjoying the way her blush darkens her cheeks. “And I think your scowls are adorable.”

“Very cute,” she murmurs around a laugh.

I grin down at her, a feeling of immense satisfaction and adoration filling me. My trick designed to win merely time to woo my mate gained me everything. It gave me my mate, my son and now a family to call my own. A unicorn dreams of a mare, but only the lucky find the true love of an ahandral mate and the bonds of a family that he has always wanted.

Of all unicorns I am no longer cursed, but the luckiest.

Author’s Note

Thank you so much for joining me for Eliph and Steph’s story. I’ve wanted to write about this flirtatious and bold unicorn since he came up in the The Orc Wife. In fact, for the Monsterly Yours series, he was the one that I got the most requests to see have his own book, so I was thrilled to finally be able to write it. And given the origin of his appearance it seemed appropriate to bring readers back around to his initial appearance with a quote about unicorns directly from the book.

My unicorns are a bit different, but I try to include actual bits of lore about unicorns. As a child I was obsessed with both horses and unicorns, and I loved movies like Legend, The Last Unicorn, as well as being fascinated with the Unicorn Tapestries. In result, I tried to give a little back from all of that with this book!

The goblin Grimsal was particularly fun to write, and you can expect to see him in a future book in this series, but first we have an orc and a troll king that coming up for this series, both books hopefully this year before we can visit Grimsal. We shall see how it goes! Needless to say, each book in the Monsterly Yours series is a true pleasure to write and share with all of you!

SJ Sanders

Other Works by S.J. Sanders

The Mate Index

First Contact

The VaDorok

Hearts of Indesh (Valentine Novella)

The Edoka’s Destiny

The Vori’s Mate

Eliza’s Miracle (Novella)

A Kiss on Kaidava

The Vori’s Secret

A Mate for Oigr (Halloween Novella)

Heart of the Agraak

A Gift for Medif

The Arobi’s Queen

Teril’s Fire

Monsterly Yours

The Orc Wife

The Troll Bride

The Accidental Werewolf’s Mate

The Pixie’s Queen

The Unicorn’s Mare (coming soon)

Sci-Fi Fairytales

Red: A Dystopian World Alien Romance

Sirein

Ragoru Beginnings Romance

White: Emala’s Story

Huntress

Ragoru Romance

A Mother’s Night Gift

Dark Spirits

Havoc of Souls

Forest of Spirits

Desert of the Vanished (coming soon)

Dark Spirits Fairytales

The Mirror (also part of Mischief Matchmakers)

Matchsticks

Shadowed Dreams Erotica

The Lantern

Serpent of the Abyss

The Mintars

Librarian and the Beast

The Atlavans

The Darvel Exploratory Systems

Classified Planet: Turongal

Serpents of the Abyss (coming soon)

Mist World: Asylum of Graelf (currently an ongoing serial in reader group)

Argurma Salvager

Broken Earth

Pirate’s Gold

Sands of Argurumal (out now!)

About the Author

S.J. Sanders is a writer of Science Fiction and Fantasy Romance. With a love of all things alien and monster she is fascinated with concepts of far off worlds, as well as the lore and legends of various cultures. When not writing, she loves reading, sculpting, painting and travel (especially to exotic destinations). Although born and raised in Alaska, she currently as a resident of Florida with her family.

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