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I’ll pick them up later, she promised herself, coming to a stop in front of the door. Fern righted herself quickly, adjusting her sweater and tucking a stray curl behind her ear. She took a long breath to steady herself and went to knock.
Before she could even make a sound, the door flew open. Calum stood before her, wearing almost the same outfit as the day before, except for a different colored shirt. He held the door open with one hand and gripped his walking cane in the other, not looking surprised to see her in the slightest.
Two distinct sensations collided into Fern’s consciousness at the same time. The first being that she had very little chance of getting rid of her crush as the very sight of Dr. Welsh made her knees quiver. The second was that it was his magic that called to her. Once he was in her eyesight, the panicked feeling in her chest abated.
Fern’s hands were shaking when she reached into her bag, grabbing the journal and thrusting it out to Calum.
“I believe this is yours.”
* * *
Calum knew exactly when to expect Fern, thanks to his magic, but that didn’t mean that he got to his office any later than usual. By 7 a.m., he had made a pot of tea and perused the morning paper at his desk. He relied on routine; it was the only way that he stayed sane these days. That only lasted for about forty-five minutes, and he forced himself to pick up another book.
The History of Scottish Folk Myths was one that he read many times before, but he had hunted down a particular third edition. This one was rumored to have a chapter on faerie portals that was edited out of more recent versions, which meant that it was imperative that he flip through it for any information that he could.
Any of these books, journals, or lost chapters could have a missing piece of information that he needed to break the curse. He had to find them all.
The missing chapter proved to have no new information for him, and Calum tossed it aside with an angry grunt. He checked the clock. 8:27 a.m.
“God damn it,” he hissed, leaning back in his chair and trying to compose himself. He hadn’t slept at all the night before, turning anxiously in his bed while he knew Fern was reading his journal entries in her apartment. Twice during the night, he had gotten out of bed and almost gone over there.
There were many reasons that he invited Fern to the department and why he shared its secrets. He had not been expecting the all-consuming pull that he had towards her and refused to think about it. It was one reason he knew when she would show up at his door. Mara and Emmett sensed it too; Calum could tell from their expressions last night.
I’ll have to deal with it later. He grumbled, pulling out another dated academic journal. Everything comes second to breaking the spell.
Calum kept himself occupied until it was time, his patience gone as he opened the door before she could knock.
Every thought of Scotland’s magic and the curse evaporated from his mind when he saw her. Fern looked flushed, and her chest moved as she tried to catch her breath. Calum’s mind conjured up a million different images of ways he could make Fern hot and sweaty.
She was wearing a simple shift dress, but it nipped in at the waist and hugged her slight curves in such a way that made Calum feel possessive. He wanted to pull her into his office and make sure she stayed there until she carried his scent on everything she owned.
Stop it. Calum shook his head to clear it, only to realize that Fern was handing the journal back to him.
“I believe this is yours.” She managed a weak smile. Calum reached for the tome. His fingers grazed hers, and a streak of warmth ran from his hand over his whole body, making him repress a shudder. Fern’s pupils dilated, and she swallowed thickly, showing it affected her too.
“It is,” Calum sighed, taking a step back and opening the door wider. “I’m sure you have a million questions.”
Fern shook her head, almost in disbelief, and she slipped inside the messy office and sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs. “That is an understatement.”
* * *
Fern’s entire body was on edge. She couldn’t stop her hands from fidgeting as Calum placed the journal on the tabletop and sat down, staring at her from across the desk.
“It’s all true.” He ran his thumb over the cane’s stag head. “My full name is Calum Orem Beifir Welsh Thalanil, Prince of the Seelie Fae.” He shrugged, and the eyes of the stag glowed green. “At least, it used to be.”
Fern stared at Calum in a state of mild shock. “I… I can see why you shortened it.” She chuckled lamely, her eyes almost bugging out of her head. Calum laughed, a rich, comforting sound that immediately settled the worst of Fern’s nerves. Some of the rigidity of his personality from the day before was gone. Fern rightfully assumed it was because there wasn’t a massive secret between them.
She looked at him in wonderment. “So it has trapped you here since…the Battle of Culloden?”
“Yes,” he nodded once, “we haven’t been able to get back to Faerie on either the British or Scottish side. Passageways are still open all over Europe, but those go to different places. The doors to Faerie were all congregated in what is now the United Kingdom, and they’ve all been sealed.”
Fern’s shock subsided as her inquisitive academic nature overrode it. “What about other magical communities? You said you reached out to them for help.”
“I did. Most of them were very sympathetic and offered the skills of their mages and witches to break the spell. Or, at the very least, open the portals. It didn’t work. I had to stop leaving Scotland over the years, but I still correspond with some of their leaders.”
“What happens when you try to leave Scotland?” Fern leaned forward in her chair.
Calum chuckled morbidly. “Each time I left the country, a little more of my magic drained. Understand,” he placed his cane on his desk, “we thought that all of our magic was gone in 1746, but we were wrong. Now, most of it was gone, yes. However, over the years, it’s slowly been draining from us, even more so.”
