I find the sloping branches of a pine, deciding it will do for tinder, yet after a few failed attempts at a fire, I finally give up the fight and create a spark with my fingers.
A Rogue Fae must always remember to budget his magic, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and I’m not about to let Ivy freeze to death.
Ivy scoots closer to the flames, wrapping us both up in my cloak, but she needn’t bother. My magic should be more than enough to sustain us until morning.
The fire illuminates the inside of the cave, and I cast my eyes around our temporary dwelling, taking stock of the snottites that drip from the ceiling like globs of saliva.
It’s like being inside the mouth of a giant, but this smelly, rotten cave was our saving grace tonight.
Ivy huddles closer to absorb my warmth, closing her eyes as she tries to get some sleep. All the while, the wind continues to howl outside. We found a decent-enough spot downwind.
We may just survive.
It doesn’t take Ivy long to fall asleep, and her complexion soon returns to its former rosy glory. I study her face, and not for the first time, I’m entranced by her beauty. If someone had told me when we first met that I would be buried deep between her legs on the longest night of the year, then I would have laughed myself senseless.
I may have been raised by humans, but that doesn’t mean that I wish to consort with them. But I don’t particularly care for the company of my fellow Fae either. In fact, I never really needed anyone.
Until I mether…
It seemed she was my undoing all this time. I did always have a weakness for blondes.
Ivy will be the death of me one day, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I would gladly lay down my life for this woman. Bannog’s words repeat through my mind, and my heart grows as heavy as the blustering snow outside.
How am I going to tell her?
You don’t. Simple. You know it would make no difference to you anyway, because you don’t care about anyone but yourself.
I growl, grinding my teeth at the sound of her intrusive voice. She’s still messing with my head.
“Leave me alone,” I whisper to the gloom.
I’ll never leave you alone, demon. Not after what you did to my son...
Red sprays my vision, and then I see his terrified face, a face I’ve tried so hard to forget.
Duke.
That was the day I finally took a stand against the boy who made my life a living hell. I can still taste his warm blood on my tongue as it drips from my lips, staining my fangs crimson, and I try to block him out.
Outside in the cold, she beckons me—a shadow silhouetted against the spiralling wind.
She’s nothing but a wraith, tall and frail, and lacking any real flesh, and it's good to finally put a face to the voice.
Rosemary.
Another painful memory resurfaces, and then more shapes materialise behind her ghostly form. I recognise the glowing eyes of the villagers, and a gaping chasm opens up inside my chest, threatening to pull me under.
The whole village of Tillyfold has come to finish me off like they once promised. They weren’t satisfied enough with my leaving, so now they’re here to kill me for good.
For as long as I can remember, they’ve despised me. Vilified and treated me like a pariah. After all, I will never be one of them—the strange, green-skinned youth with the horns of a goat and the claws of a wolf.
“Don’t ever step foot in this town again,”Rosemary hisses, her voice close yet far.
Her gaze burns through the swirling snow, and I have never seen anything so vile, so inhuman.
“I’ll butcher you like apigif you so much as breathe near my children.”
Whyare they doing this? It was bad enough they chased me away from my home, but now they insist on torturing and killing me, too?
