He met Frost in front of the tavern, his horse’s hooves clacking rhythmically on the wet stones. Mounting the steed, Callan rode back to Nova’s cottage. The street had been sleepy in the daylight; under the light of the moon, it was dead. Dismounting quickly, he sent Frost trotting around the back of the house with a slap on the rear. The horse liked to wander but never strayed too far. Hiding himself behind the same elm along the laneway as the male had earlier, Callan waited. For what, he wasn’t certain. He sensed her within. Knew she was alone. Even so, he found himself gathering his courage to approach the quiet house. To approach her.
After all he’d observed, he understood why she so readily accepted what he told her. Considering the significance of the revelation, he was impressed by how calm she was. Her only outward reaction was the slight quickening in her pulse fluttering at her throat, a change imperceptible to humans but obvious to him.
The hinges creaked slightly as he eased the rear door open and peered out into the quiet night. He whistled sharply, and Frost trotted out from the shadows. Callan jogged over to the brilliant white stallion and patted the side of his long neck. He detached his sword sheath from the saddle and slipped it over his head so the blade lay across his back.
Nova appeared opposite him, slowly approaching Frost with an outstretched hand. Laying her palm flat on his muzzle, she murmured softly, and Frost snorted a friendly greeting.
“Let’s be going.” Callan held the stirrup steady and motioned with a tilt of his head for her to mount.
“I’m perfectly capable of riding my own horse. I can fetch her from the stables.” She pointed to a small barn a short distance behind the house.
“I have no doubt. But she won’t be able to cross the Boundary into the Fae Realm. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave her behind. And you’ll have to ride with me.”
Nova stared at him for a beat, then crossed in front of the horse to where Callan stood waiting.
“Very well,” she said, grabbing the pommel as she stepped into the stirrup and swung her long leg over the horse’s back with ease. She adjusted her cloak as he mounted behind her. Taking hold of the reins, he nudged Frost into a canter toward the dense forest west of the city.
They reached the edge of the Wood a short time later. The full moon had illuminated the expanse of open field as they neared the forest, but it was dark under the thick canopy. Frost moved deftly through the shadows, his hooves navigating nimbly over rocks and roots.
Callan attempted to focus on the overgrown path, but time and again, his attention drifted to the female in front of him. The act of sharing a saddle was unavoidably intimate. The warmth of her body nestled close to his chest distracted him. As did the feeling of her ass seated firmly between his thighs. Her hair, still damp at the ends, hung in a long braid down her back, and a pleasing scent wafted off the inky-black strands. Closing his eyes for an instant, Callan inhaled discreetly.
“Where is this Boundary?” Nova’s hushed whisper startled him. “I’ve explored these woods since I was a child, and I’ve never seen anything.”
“It’s invisible,” he said, grateful for the diversion from his thoughts. “Thousands of years ago, some benevolent Fae rulers decided humans were ill-suited for the Fae Realm. The Boundary was formed to prevent mortals from entering. Approach the Boundary by sea, and it appears as a great, impassable rock face rising out of the water. By land, it appears as treacherous mountain ranges, or dense, pathless forests.”
“Have you ever entered the Human Realm before?”
“No. Fae generally take little interest in the lives of mortals.”
She asked no further questions.
After nearly an hour of riding in silence, Callan sensed the Boundary ahead and pulled back on the reins, bringing Frost to a halt. Nova straightened in the saddle as he swung his leg over the horse’s rear and dropped to the forest floor.
“Why have we stopped?”
“We should cross on foot.” He reached out a hand to help her down, but she dismounted on her own, sliding down from the saddle and standing toe to toe with him. Callan felt the urge to lean in and pull away in the same instant. “Once you pass to the other side, the glamour will vanish, revealing your Fae form.”
He grasped Frost’s reins in one hand and took Nova’s hand in the other, starting toward the invisible wall separating the human lands from Aemoria. Nova tugged her hand out of his grasp. Her expression was neutral, but he spied the telltale flutter at her throat.
“When I change, will it hurt?” she asked, her tone not fearful but pragmatic.
“No,” he said. “No doubt it will feel strange, but, if anything, you should feel energy coursing through you, not pain.”
Nova gave a determined nod and followed close behind as he continued on. A familiar sensation greeted Callan as he crossed the Boundary: All sound faded, and time seemed to slow to a crawl. A great pressure pushed against his body, like swimming into a strong current.
He glanced at Nova, who trailed him by a few steps, her eyes shut tightly. Taking her hand, he pulled her the rest of the way through. The pressure lifted when they reached the other side, and he could once again hear the wind rustling through the trees.
Nova opened her eyes and took a couple of steps toward Frost before stopping short and bringing her hands to her chest, clutching at the loose fabric of her shirt. Beneath her hands, a ball of pale light bloomed, slowly spreading along her limbs and up her neck toward her face. Nova’s eyes grew wide, and her body trembled faintly. She fell to her knees and hunched forward, digging her fingers into the moss carpeting the forest floor. Her cloak enveloped her body entirely, the hood falling over her head. A sudden burst of white light appeared, emanating from within her and vanishing just as quickly into the surrounding darkness.
Nova crouched on the wet ground, motionless. Callan approached her slowly, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder. She bolted upright at his touch, stretching her arms out in front of her. A faint glow radiated from beneath her milky skin, like pale moonlight. She brought her hands to her face and lowered her hood, peering up at him.
Callan’s breath caught at the sight of her. In her human form, she had been lovely; without the glamour to dim her true essence, she was stunning. Her features were sharper, from her pointed nose and her high cheekbones to her ears tapering into delicate points. Her hair was a shade so black it seemed to absorb all light.
But the most extraordinary change was to her eyes. Only moments before, they had been a steel gray, bold and striking. The eyes looking up at him now were the palest shade of gray with a glinting ring of silver around the iris.
Callan shook his head, breaking her hold on him, and knelt down in front of her.
“Are you injured?” he asked. She appeared stunned but unharmed. He reached out for her hand, but, again, she pulled it away. “Can you stand?”