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Just hearing her name sent spikes of pain through his body.

“Get the fuck off my property.” He slammed the door and went back to bed.

The next day, he tried to ignore the knocking, but nymphs apparently had nothing but time on their hands, so the little she-devils didn’t give up until he answered.

It was Daphne and Amethyst this time.

“Don’t slam the door, wolf. Phoebe needs you.”

“What the fuck is this? Some kind of joke?”

Daphne’s eyes widened. “Of course not. But she needs your help. Will you come with us?”

Theo’s heart rate kicked up at the thought of Fee in danger, Fee hurt, Fee in trouble. He hated that he cared.

“Did she send you?”

The women glanced at each other, a guilty look passing between them. “Well, not exactly, but⁠—”

Theo slammed the door.

On the third day, the nymphs were ready for him. They started talking right away.

“Just listen,” Daphne said. “Phoebe’s acting strange. Something’s wrong but she won’t admit it.”

Something’s wrong with Phoebe.

The words wrapped around his throat and pulled tight. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think.

“Can we come in?” Amethyst asked.

Theo stepped aside and the nymphs hurried inside out of the cold. They blinked in the dim interior but didn’t comment on the state of his house. Bob Ross painted happily on the TV screen. His gentle voice was the only warmth in the room.

“Maybe I should make you some tea?” Amethyst ventured, and Theo glared at her. “Or not.”

“Why are you here? If Fee… If she’s not well, then you take care of her.”

Daphne blew out a little sigh, glancing nervously at Amie.

“We think she needs you,” Daphne said, pushing her dark hair from her face.

“Why would you think that?”

“Well, you know that dryads need an oak grove to survive, right? And we can be away from them for a while, but we always have to return to them eventually. Our souls depend on it.”

“Right. Get on with it. I’m not a fucking oak tree.”

“But maybe you are.”

Amie’s face was so earnest as she called him a tree that Theo couldn’t help the cackle that escaped his lips.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The little dryad frowned, insulted by his laughter, but she went on. “Phoebe is acting like she’s been away from her grove for too long, but she’s back now. She should be fine. Instead, she keeps getting sicker.”

Sicker. Fee is sick.

“I don’t know what this has to do with me,” he said even as his heart surged in his chest. She needs you, you idiot. He shook the thought from his head.