Page 60 of Not Another Happily Ever After

And he…he’s no longer looking for danger. His eyes, for once, are there to greet me.

The silence that envelops us is different than before. Heavier. Filled with the rapid rise and fall of his chest. His breaths quickened, in rhythm with mine.

My heart rages so violently against my ribs that I half-wonder if he can hear it. If he can see the way my body has made itself at home beneath his arms. Because I can. I can see the war raging within his autumn green gaze.

Say it.

Tell me what you’re really afraid of.

“Frog…”

Something soft brushes against the palm of my hand, and for half a second, I believe it’s his hand claiming mine. Until I remember his are still planted on either side of my head.

I blink, chancing a look down. And staring up at me I find a tiny black unicorn with eyes the same shade of blue as the tall blades of grass. His horn is barely longer than my middle finger.

“Um…hi.”

Its long black ears twitch with uncertainty, but it doesn’t try to charge us or run away.Because it can’t,I realize as it tugs at a rope snared around its hind leg.

Frog follows my gaze and I half expect him to draw his sword and pull me away. Instead, he slowly drops to one knee, glancing from where the foal struggles against its restraints to the shrill screams coming from the field.

I cut Frog a knowing look and he just nods, scratching the back of his neck beneath his hood.

“I know his mother is trying to kill us,” I say, “but…”

“I know.” He lets out a defeated sigh, closing his eyes beneath his hood before waving me over. “Come on then.”

I smile, dropping to my knees beside him. Together we use the tip of Frog’s blade to cut away at the hunter’s trap. The foal seems to somehow understand we are here to help and stands perfectly still until the last thread is severed.

It stumbles into my arms and I catch it, wrapping my pale blue arms around it.

“There you are,” I coo, stroking the glossy black coat, its tiny heartbeat fluttering against my fingers.

Frog stands quietly watching, an observer to the joyous moments he seldom allows himself to be part of. Then he gestures toward the distant cries of the creature’s mother, and helps me to my feet.

It doesn’t take long to find her, frantically searching the crimson-covered thickets.

“Stay back while I?—”

Frog starts.

But I’m already stepping out of the trees’ tall shadows with the foal. Its mothers cries grow louder and louder until her golden eyes find me, narrowing on where my hand still leads her foal.

She paws the ground, cutting vines like they’re nothing with the razor talons of her claws.

“Miss Sunday…” Frog warns, his breath hot on my neck.Because of course he’s behind me. My knight in shining shadows.

Ignoring the way my skin prickles at his nearness, I ease the baby unicorn toward its raging mother, praying she doesn’t decide to shred us to pieces with the four sharp canines protruding from her wolf-like head.

I let the foal go, still acutely aware—despite my best efforts not to be—of the two large hands hovering near my waist, ready to pull me away should the unicorn decide to make a Sunday skewer out of me. Though I’m beginning to think the terrifying unicorn rumors are just another tale we were sold. Because there is nothing evil or vicious in the way this mother greets her baby. They might look a little beastly, but honestly, don’t we all?

“Are you ready?” Frog ask, when something else rings through the air.

A song of sorts.

But no, that’s not quite right. This melody isn’t being sung or played. It’s a drifting sound cutting through the whinnies of the reunited pair and carving a place into my soul.

I freeze.