by Hannah West
‘Tomorrow?’
I nod. ‘I’m not ready to go tonight.’
Emotion flashes in his eyes and I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. I close the distance between us, and push onto my tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his lips. He stares at me in surprise. I swipe my tongue across his bottom lip to steal a taste, and he opens for me. Relief pours through me and I press my palms to his chest, steadying myself as I deepen the kiss. I haven’t felt in control for such a long time, and Zephyr is gifting me this moment. He yields to my advances, letting me make the choices and take the lead. He’s getting what he wants but it’s my decision to give it.
I curl my fingers into his hair, pulling his face down to mine. Zephyr comes willingly, following my lead when I guide him across the room to the bed. An ache yawns wide inside me, as darkness crawls in midnight swirls over my skin. Inky tendrils reach from my skin to wrap around Zephyr and pull him close. His olive skin lights with amethyst. Ribbons of sparkling purple weave with my light, lacing together in intricate swirls.
I turn us around and push Zephyr onto the bed. Our bodies break apart but our lights remain laced. We’re not touching but remain connected, and there’s rightness to it that I can’t describe. Zephyr watches as I peel the dress from my body, letting it pool in a heap of silver at my feet. I’m naked beneath because fae have no concept of underwear, and his eyes burn bright as they roam my body.
I wait for his gaze to return to mine then kneel on the bed between his thighs. Zephyr sits up and I pop the first button at the top of his shirt. He stills my hand, stopping me from reaching for the next button. Rejection slices through me then disintegrates into shock, when his clothes just disappear in a glitter of purple light.
‘Very handy,’ I murmur.
Zephyr chuckles and cups my chin, bringing my gaze from the carved lines of his torso back to his face. He waits for me to lean forward then presses his lips to mine. His tongue dips into my mouth and I press closer. My chest meets his, skin on skin, and I moan into the sensation. I wrap my arm around his neck and curl my legs around his hips, getting as close as I can.
Zephyr leans back to study my expression. His body is hard against mine, like he’s hewn from stone. My softness moulds to him and it feels decadent in a way I didn’t know it could. We’re opposites in so many ways. He’s hard to my soft and I’m dark to his light. But we fit together and it feels so right.
‘You want this?’ he asks.
I trace a finger over the angular lines of his face, learning his features. I trace around the pointed curve of an ear. His purple eyes are framed by thick lashes and have an exotic tilt. Dark eyebrows. High cheekbones. Defined jawline. His lips are full and softer than they look. I smooth the pad of my thumb across the bottom one and he inhales, flashing a hint of sharp incisors.
Wild.
Untamed.
Mine.
‘Yes,’ I whisper.
A growl sounds from deep inside his chest. Pressed this close, I feel it reverberate through me, and it makes the tiny hairs on my body stand up. His eyes glow bright purple, like he’s lighting up from the inside.
‘Let me see you,’ he breathes.
‘I can’t get anymore naked than this, Zephyr.’
‘Your wings,’ he clarifies.
Oh.
I release my wings and Zephyr’s eyes turn molten. I glance over my shoulder in surprise. Does he…? Does Zephyr find my wings sexy? The concept is foreign to me, but I suppose fae are used to seeing them that way. I think of the look Darrack gave me when he saw my wings then push the thought away. I don’t even want to go there right now.
I trace the design on Zephyr’s skin. ‘Now you,’ I tell him.
The pattern lights up, before peeling away to form a pair of wings behind him. They’re bigger and sleeker than mine – powerful – and I appreciate the appeal in seeing them. The angular design is in tandem with the rest of his body. Zephyr’s tall and lean, with ropes of muscle sculpting his frame. I skim my fingers over his shoulders then down to his chest, committing the sight and feel to memory.
‘Strong,’ I murmur, captivated by the hard planes of his body.
Zephyr captures my hand against his chest, forcing my gaze back to his. ‘Beautiful,’ he tells me.
Warmth fills me at his declaration. Before I can answer, he teleports and I find myself on my back, staring up at him. My wings are fanned out against the mattress and he’s situated between my thighs. I curl my fingers into his hair and pull him down for a kiss. Our tongues twine, tasting and exploring.
He breaks the kiss. ‘Next time I’ll spend hours worshipping your body,’ he promises, aligning our centres.
My back arches off the mattress when he pushes inside me. There’s no pain, just immense pleasure mixed with a sense of finding home. My fingers tighten in his hair and warmth blooms from my centre. The coiled creature in my middle uncurls, waking from a lifetime of slumber.
I open my eyes. Everything is drenched in the shadow of my darkness, except Zephyr. He gazes right back, eyes blazing violet. I trace the purple swirls in his skin and they peel away to twine with the midnight swirls on mine. I watch, entranced, as they knit together.
‘Stunning,’ Zephyr rasps.
I cup his face and black glitter spangles over his skin. The glitter soaks into his skin and Zephyr groans. The purple haloing his body fringes with midnight and frames his beauty with dark tones.
My tones.
Mine.
‘Do it again,’ he pants.
I lift my other hand and cup his face between my palms. Purple light bands my wrists, holding me to him. The cage inside cracks wide open and wildness pours out. Zephyr closes his eyes, and I suck in a breath when he opens them to gaze down at me. His eyes are black, like he’s drowning in my darkness. I start to pull away but he strikes, sinking sharp incisors into my shoulder. I scream, bliss twining through the pain he’s causing. My mind splinters and I’m lost to sensation.
Zephyr’s right there with me. His essence weaves with mine collecting my splintered pieces then glues them back together. He gathers me from the edge of oblivion and guides me back to Earth. I’m aware of blood trickling over my shoulder then Zephyr’s tongue licking at the punctures. I should be frightened that he bit me, but I can’t bring myself to care. He pulls back, crimson staining his lips. I brush my fingers over the wound, except there isn’t one. I peer down at my shoulder, glimpsing a silvery scar on my skin.
‘I wondered why you have fangs,’ I mutter.
‘Perhaps one day yours will grow in and you can bite me back,’ he murmurs.
I feel my eyes widen, as I lick the end of one blunt incisor. ‘That’s possible?’
Zephyr shrugs. ‘I don’t know. Halfling fae are so rare.’
I finger my neck. ‘Are your kind where vampire myths come from?’
‘Our kind,’ he corrects. ‘And vampires aren’t real, Primrose. Most of the Archaic Races have fangs, so perhaps vampire myth spans from there.’
‘Archaic Races?’
‘Fae, Mer, Shifters,’ he answers. ‘We’re all Archaic Races.’
‘Right,’ I murmur, letting the subject drop. There are more important things to discuss, like his onyx gaze. ‘Zephyr, your eyes.’
He smiles in understanding. ‘Your eyes are violet.’
I gape then wriggle from beneath him. I scramble from the bed and stare into the mirror.
‘Holy crap is this permanent?’
I don’t look like me without black eyes. I look more like my mother.
‘I don’t know,’ he shrugs. ‘But I like it.’
I turn to face him. ‘You do?’
He climbs from the bed, a predatory gleam to his eyes. ‘Everyone will know you’re mine.’
I roll my eyes. ‘Everyone will know you’re mine, too then.’
Zephyr grins. ‘Good.’
It’s barbaric, but I like the concept. The wildness Zephyr released permeates my insides, no longer trapped d
eep in my middle. It delights in knowing other females will recognise he’s taken. His grin fades and he sighs.
‘What is it?’
‘Your eyes are returning to black,’ he says.
I study his gaze to find amethyst sparkles amid the midnight. ‘Yours are changing back, too.’
Zephyr takes my hand and pulls me to him. ‘Let’s see what we can do about it,’ he grins then presses his lips to mine.
CHAPTER 16
I’m dreaming.
The waking world sits at the periphery of my conscious mind, but I don’t want to wake. Mum’s sitting opposite me on the blanket, grinning at something I just said. I glance at the cake between us and match her grin, remembering this moment.
‘No really, it’s wonderful,’ I say.
‘It doesn’t look anything like the picture,’ Mum argues.
‘I’m sure it tastes great,’ I counter, holding back laughter. ‘If-’
‘If what?’ Mum presses.
‘If it doesn’t fall over before I get chance to taste it.’
We both look at the cake on the plate between us. The top layer is currently sliding from the bottom, the buttercream between the uneven sponges melting. Mum never did have any patience, and she iced it before it was cool enough. Our gazes meet and we both burst out laughing.
‘I should’ve asked Kate to make it,’ Mum mutters. ‘She’s always been the cook in the family.’ She lights the candle on top. ‘Quick, make a wish before it collapses.’
I close my eyes and blow out the candle. To this day, I can’t remember what I wished for, but when I open my eyes Mum’s got a wistful look on her face.
‘What did you wish for,’ she asks.
‘I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.’
Mum grins. ‘We should cut the thing before it falls over.’
Mum plates two slices of cake and hands me one.
‘Mm, chocolate,’ we hum at the same time then laugh again.
‘Happy birthday, baby girl,’ Mum says.
‘It tastes good,’ I say around a mouthful of cake.
‘Are you sure this is okay?’ she asks for the millionth time. ‘You only turn twenty-one once.’
‘This is what I want, Mum. You, me, the meadow and a lopsided cake.’
Mum puts her cake down and drags me into a hug. ‘I love you, Rose.’
I bury my face in her neck and inhale the calming fragrance that’s uniquely hers. ‘I love you.’
I glance up to see Zephyr standing a few feet away, watching us. I close my eyes, holding onto the dream for as long as I can. Mum’s scent fades and I open my eyes to find myself surrounded by cotton sheets. I’m in bed, wrapped around Zephyr. His purple gaze eclipses my vision when I tilt my head to look up at his face.
‘I saw you in the meadow. I whisper.
‘I didn’t mean to intrude,’ he whispers back.
Sunlight streams through a crack between the curtains, illuminating the room in a soft glow. It feels early and the house is quiet. I can hear waves lapping nearby and realise Caleb must live by the ocean.
‘You should’ve joined us.’
‘That was your mother?’ he asks.
‘It was.’
‘She was beautiful,’ he tells me.
A tear escapes and rolls down my cheek, soaking into the pillow. ‘I miss her.’
‘What was she like?’ he asks, brushing tears from my lashes.
‘Like me, only nicer.’ I smile. ‘Mum lacked my prickly persona. She was filled with warmth, love and sorrow.’ I chuckle when I think of the cake. ‘She couldn’t bake to save her life. I mean, you saw her attempt at baking a cake.’
‘That was a cake?’ he grins.
I laugh and Zephyr laughs with me. The laughter dies and my smile fades.
‘When the doctors told her she had cancer, Mum made it sound like a little glitch,’ I murmur and stare at Zephyr’s chest, so I don’t have to look in his eyes. ‘She never told me it was terminal, until I came home early to find the funeral director sitting in our kitchen.’
I think of that day and cringe. I hadn’t known who the man was at first, until I spotted the brochures on the table. Mum was picking her coffin and I’d freaked. I’d wasted three days of the life she had left barely speaking to her, and I’ll regret it until my last breath.
‘She was just trying to save me pain,’ I whisper.
‘Primrose,’ Zephyr murmurs, putting a finger under my chin to tip my face back to his. He presses a kiss to my lips and his empathy soaks the air. He wants to take away my pain, and I think I love him a little bit for it.
‘What happens when fae die, Zephyr?’
‘We fade,’ he tells me. ‘Our corporeal form diminishes and our light ascends to the next place.’
‘The next place?’
‘A place filled with the ones who’ve passed before us,’ he answers. ‘Your mother will be there, Primrose. She’ll have her ancestors and mine to look after her.’
A lump forms in my throat. ‘You think so?’
He wipes my tears with his thumb. ‘Yes,’ he answers. ‘Our ancestors watch over us until it’s our time to join them. They’ll be there to guide the way when we fade. Until then, I promise to take care of you.’
‘Won’t we fade at different times?’ I argue. ‘You’re very old, Zephyr and there’s no guarantee I’ll live the millennia a full-blooded fae does.’
‘Human’s age quickly,’ he agrees. ‘But you’re not human anymore.’
‘So I’m going to live a long time?’
‘You don’t sound happy about it.’
I shrug. ‘What the hell does a person do with thousands of years to live?’
Zephyr chuckles. ‘You’ll find out.’ His laughter dies and he tucks a length of hair behind my ear, expression serious. ‘If we’d bonded during the equinox, our lights would’ve been linked, meaning they’d fade together.’
‘That’s why your parents are fading at the same time?’ Zephyr nods and I get the feeling I’m missing something important. ‘So when we bond we’ll be tied in a way that means we’ll fade together?’
‘The equinox has passed,’ Zephyr says. ‘Our window to bond is gone.’
‘But-’ I sit up and look around, panic setting in. If I’m not bonded to Zephyr then it means I’m still up for grabs. ‘I said I’d bond with you!’
Zephyr sits up too. ‘Last night you said you weren’t ready, and I thought-’
‘You’re an idiot!’ I shout. ‘How can someone so old be so dense?’
‘Primrose-’
A ball of purple light shoots from the mirror and smacks Zephyr in the chest. I suck in a breath, feeling Zephyr’s need to open a portal. Our intimacy has increased my ability to sense his emotion. It’s so powerful it’s difficult to differentiate between his emotion and mine.
‘What is that?’ I ask.
‘A summoning sprite,’ Zephyr says. ‘I’m being summoned by whomever I gifted this sprite.’ He growls, sweat beading his brow. ‘I’m not leaving you.’
I scramble from the bed, pick my dress up from the floor and tug it on. There’s not a crease in it, despite being in a ball all night on the carpet.
‘You don’t have to,’ I say then frown. ‘It’s not Alissa, is it?’
Zephyr smirks, clothes materialising on his body. ‘It’s not my mother.’
‘You need to teach me that trick,’ I tell him then gasp when a jacket materialises over my dress.
I finger the sliver fabric then look at Zephyr. ‘You?’
He nods. ‘I don’t like others seeing your wing markings,’ he admits.
I shake my head and admire the pretty jacket. ‘You’ve got to teach me how to do that!’
He chuckles and pulls me close. ‘Later, my rose.’
Zephyr’s light burns my retinas before I realise we’re teleporting. I was expecting to use the mirror, so didn’t close my eyes in preparation. It takes a second of blinking for the blue-tinged room to come into foc
us. The blue is emanating from a woman on the bed in the centre of the room. A huge male with dark hair and burning green eyes kneels beside the bed, bending over the woman’s writhing form.
‘Zephyr,’ the male rumbles, voice more animal than man.
I know he’s not fae but don’t know what he is. Zephyr pulls me into his side as we approach the bed. The male growls but it’s like he can’t help it.
‘Lucas,’ Zephyr greets, tone wary. ‘Did you summon me here just to attack me?’
‘Can’t help it,’ Lucas grits out. ‘She’s my mate.’
Understanding, Zephyr looks down at the woman. ‘She’s not lupine.’
Lucas shakes his head. ‘Human. One of your kind did something to her.’
Zephyr sniffs the air and his eyes go wide. ‘She’s a Halfling?’
‘Halfling?’ Lucas snarls.
‘I thought you said we were rare,’ I mutter.
‘It’s a damn epidemic,’ Zephyr grumbles then looks back to Lucas. ‘Your mate is half fae.’ Zephyr sniffs the air again. ‘And she’s been Marked by a compatible male.’
Lucas roars, ‘Mine!’
‘This scenario looks familiar,’ I remark.
Blood drips from the woman’s eyes, ears and nose, streaking her pale face. I stare at her in horror, crimson forming a growing stain on the bed below her. Neon blue lights her from the inside, adding to the surreal effect. Did I look like this when I turned fae? Flashes of remembered agony skitter through my frame and I wince, wanting to help her. But I don’t think there’s anything I can do. Once fae genes are triggered there’s no stopping the Change. I watch her arch and writhe, knowing I could be watching her death.
‘Help her!’ Lucas begs.
‘I can remove the Mark,’ Zephyr answers, ‘but can’t guarantee she’ll survive the transition from human to fae.’
Lucas stares down at the woman, like she owns his soul, and my heart wedges in my throat. ‘If she’s to die she’ll die mine,’ he answers. ‘Remove the Mark.’
Zephyr looks at me. ‘You know how a Mark is removed?’ he asks.
‘How do you think I got yours out of me?’ I murmur.
Zephyr’s face twists into a scowl. ‘Who?’
