Page 16 of The Court the Fae Forgot
Irk prickles at the back of my neck. Of course, he was blaming me too—but this time, after everything that had happened to me, I was unable to hold my tongue any longer.
“Or, perhaps,” I snapped back, “it’s unwise of the fae to meddle with humans.”
Rather than anger, mirth danced in the color of his eyes. “Is that so?”
I jutted out my chin. “We’re not all so simple as you might think.”
It was rich, a statement like that coming from me. But even as I thought it, the moonlight caught on a medallion hanging around this fae’s neck too, and once again, that strange sensation washed over me as I read the words etched into it.
Any anger I felt before melted, replaced instead with an insatiableneed.I should have already sent the fae on his way, should have turned on my heel and fled as I did before, in the forest, but instead I found my footsteps drawing me closer to him.
“What is it?” I asked, unable to tear my eyes from the words as I read them over and over again. “What does it mean, the phrase,The Sun Only Sets To Rise Again?”
A storm of emotions crossed the fae’s face at my words, overtaking the smugness in a way that forced me to finally look up from the medallion.
The anger I expected to see before was finally there, but it was gone so quickly and replaced by so many other warring emotions that I was barely able to see it before it was once again gone. Confusion. Excitement. Curiosity. Each of these emotions flickered across his face so quickly in procession that it might have been comical—had these looks been possessed by quite literally any other creature.
Unconsciously, he grabbed the amulet with his hand, grasping it between his fingers. He stepped closer to me, slowly looming above me with each guarded step.
“What’s your name?” he asked quietly, raising an eyebrow.
A shiver ran down my spine, prickling with each of those steps.
Again, I should have run. This creature, this male fae, was a predator and I was his prey. I knew that. I’d had to face it more times in one day than I had the entire lifetime spanning before it.
Instead of running, I simply stuck out my chin and tilted up my face to meet his in the moonlight.
“Aurra,” I said, and as I did, that cold shiver banished. The fae’s eyes narrowed softly at me, the light of his irises almost seeming to dance. He watched me for a moment longer before nodding once and suddenly turning on his heel.
He was halfway back to the carriage before I realized what was happening.
“So that’s it?” I called after him, not bothering to keep my voice low. My father’s shouts had swelled to a new high, whatever the fae had done to appease him long since banished in favor of his usual temper. I had no fear of being overheard “You’re not going to tell meyourname?”
The fae grimaced at the sound of my father’s voice, but softened again when he looked once more down at me. One hand now gripped the top of the carriage, the other braced to shut the door after him as soon as he’d finished climbing back inside.
He tilted his head to the side slightly, as if taking me in once more before he answered. “Finch,” he said, “Of the Lord’s Western Court.”
I should have been glad to see the last of this fae, of this Finch of the Western Court.
The final rumblings of the carriage after it had disappeared into the darkness only left a strange hollowness inside of me, instead. Just as soon as he was gone, I wished that he would return and bring the air he’d apparently stolen from my lungs back with him. Taking a moment to catch my breath, I considered the muscled stranger and compared him to the two other fae I’d encountered today.
First, to the fae who’d struck me down and then accused me of doing the striking.
Second, to the cunning dark fae in the woods.
And then, of course, was Finch.
The two golden-haired fae were similar in the same way that two cats of the same breed might be similar. The second, the fae that had both saved and chased me from the shadows, he was another breed entirely. Just the thought of him made a knot form at the back of my throat and made my heart race, though not entirely from the fear it should have been.
The door opened beside me and Ada bound out as breathless as I was. “Is the fae gone? What did he want?” Her questions paused only long enough for her to glance inside the now open door, her next words answering the excitement that had once again slipped back into her voice. “Papa’s asleep now, but Mama still won’t tell me anything.”
I was so engrossed in my own thoughts that I hadn’t noticed the yelling fade. Maybe I’d been out here far longer than I thought. Here, in the dark of night, it was easy to lose track of time.
Just as I had in the forest.
“I’m not sure,” I said with a shrug to mask the shiver the memory brought with it. “But let’s not talk of fae anymore. They’ve already brought enough bad luck.”
CHAPTEREIGHT
