Page 135 of Glitched Fates & Stolen Mates

I clutched Princess tighter to my chest, her pink-streaked leaves rustling softly. The woman beside me cleared her throat.

“Can the plant not go in the overhead compartment? I really think that would be more comfortable.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. Had she overheard me talking to it earlier? “Um… not really.”

The woman stared at me before sighing and leaning back in her seat.

The engines roared louder, and I almost had to pinch myself as we began to accelerate down the runway.

Because, to be honest, part of me had never believed I’d actually make it this far. But here I was. Really doing this. I’d turned my phone off before boarding, but I’d still half expected Seb to materialise at security with arms folded and a disappointed expression that made me feel twelve years old.

“We’ve got this, Princess,” I whispered, then caught myself and pressed my lips together.

“Seriously, what is with that bloody plant?!”

I looked up to apologise, but the words died in my throat. A horribly familiar face had popped up above the seat in front of me, grinning like a maniac.

Rory.

Rory, on the plane.

Rory, on his knees in his seat, blond hair sticking up at all sorts of angles, blue-green eyes sparkling with delight.

“Did you miss me?”

My mouth worked like a goldfish. This wasn’t real. I’d fully cracked and started hallucinating. There was no way Rory was on this flight with me.

“Sir! You need to sit in your seat with your seatbelt fastened!” An air hostess came running towards us, her voice pitched high with panic.

“There’s been a seat mix-up,” Rory said, still grinning. “I’m meant to be next to him.”

“Sit down!”

The woman beside me unbuckled her seatbelt crossly and stood up. “He’s right,” she said. “That’s my window seat, in front.”

“Ma’am!”

To the air hostess’s horror, the pair proceeded to push past each other and grumbling passengers to swap seats, mid take-off. The plane tilted upwards, my stomach dropping as we climbed into the sky.

Rory threw himself into the seat beside me, buckling himself in with theatrical flair. “Right, then. That’s sorted.”

I couldn’t stop blinking at him. “You’re… you’re actually here.”

“Course I am.” He leaned back against the headrest, pupils slightly dilated. “Fair warning, though, I’m absolutely off my tits on Valium right now because I hate flying. So if I start saying weird stuff, just ignore me.”

“But… how?”

“Felix, mate.” Rory turned to face me properly, his expression suddenly serious. “You’re ridiculously easy to follow. Genuinely embarrassing. I was literally two metres away from you for half the airport journey.”

“You’ve been watching me this whole time?!”

“Didn’t reveal myself at the airport because I didn’t want to risk you freaking out that I’d followed you. But now you’re safe and sound in your chair with no choice but to bring me along.”

“But… how?” I repeated stupidly.

Rory’s grin returned. “Right, so after everyone else pissed off home, I stayed behind. Lurking. Like a creep. Because earlier, Priya basically ambushed me—properly grabbed my arm, very intense—and told me about you and Kit. Which, by the way, rude that I had to hear it from her and not him or you. But whatever. Point is, I thought we should have a proper conversation about it, yeah? Because Kit’s my brother and this is kind of a massive deal.”

My stomach lurched, and not from the plane’s ascent. “Oh.”