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I will never find out what happened to the Winter Fae.
The endless blue gives way to brown and white. As I stare at the snow-dusted pine trees, something switches inside me when I realize we are moving closer and closer to the ground.
Another strange voice, potentially my conscience, enters my mind and says,“The thing about this is… that you’re not actually a bird, idiot. You can switch into your Fae form.”
And then I remember my clothes. The ones I had stripped off before taking flight.
Damn. It.
If I’m going to survive this and find her–find Elva–I really need to learn how to keep my head on straight. But for now, I just needed to focus on surviving.
I pull on my magic. My skin tingles as it ripples. Feathers vanish and are replaced with my long auburn hair and golden-tan skin.
My scream filled the air as I felt the sharp claws of the owl tear into my skin, plunging me through the air. Twigs and branches snapped with each impact, sending a wave of pain across my body with every jolt. Finally, I hit the ground and rolled in the powdery snow beneath me, my limbs splayed out in a tangled heap. The snow crunches under the weight of my body.
It is so deep that the powder covers my back and legs. As the wind blows, it swirls in circles, creating mini-tornadoes. I taste it, and it is clean and pure, like drinking from an ice-cold mountain stream.
I push myself up, trying not to shiver so that I can check on the owl. I don’t think it will attack me again, but I’m unsure. There, perched on a high branch of the old oak tree, is the large snowy owl. Even from a distance, I could see its deep brown eyes watching me, unblinking.
Groaning, I shout at it. “I don’t suppose you could bring me some clothes, you nasty creature!”
As I stared, it suddenly spread its wings and launched into the air.
Midway through its descent, the owl’s body ripples and shifts–its feathers spread and are replaced by a blanket of black curls that spill over clothed female shoulders. A pattern of intricate white tattoos appeared on her face and arms, instantly recognizable as the mark of a Winter Fae.
Shit, shi—wait.
“It’s you,” I gasp.
My heart is racing, my head is light, and I’m fairly certain I’ve never been this confused or happy in my whole life.
Where has she come from? Even as I ask, I know I don’t care. She’s here. After all this time.
“Why are you naked?” The female I’ve been looking for asks, raising a brow. I think I see a tiny smile dancing on those beautiful lips.
I turn bright red from the tips of my ears to my collarbones. I’m torn between feeling embarrassed and relieved and happy that she is alive. That she ishere! How is she here?
“How are you still wearing clo—?” My eyes catch on her attire. She stands before me in a sleek black bodysuit. The leather hugged her curves and made her appear almost statuesque in the frosty light.
“Damn Elva. Whatisthat?” I can’t help the long gaze I give her, the way my eyes trace the lines of her body, only to land on her face, where there is a look of pure shock.
That’s when I realize I’ve said her name. To her. For the first time.
It’s not like it’s her True Name, but Fae tend to be very sensitive about names in general.
“How do you know my name?” she demands. Her eyes bore into mine, and a white-hot fury radiates from them. The heat of her rage is a sauna, even though she stands feet away from me.
A deep red blush creeps across her cheeks, and I'm not sure if it's from the embarrassment of seeing bare flesh—some Fae are very shy, indeed—or something more sinister.
Before I can answer her, she cuts me off. “You know what, never mind. I can't talk to you when you're standing there—naked as the day your mother birthed you—in the snow.”
"You've never wanted to see me naked?" I joke, quickly shutting her up. A smirk plays across my lips as I relish the momentary shock which paints her features round and innocent. She opens her mouth to protest and promptly shuts it again. She reminds me of a fish for half a second. An exquisite fish, in a very tight black jumpsuit.
Then the air is heavy with anticipation I wasn’t expecting while she studies my face. A flash of curiosity, or maybe desire, lights her eyes. The meaning of my words shifts from light-hearted to suggestive.
Elva takes a step back, forcing herself to move away from me, her voice tight as she says, "I'm going to find you some clothes." And just like that, she's gone, leaving a chill in the air that I can feel deep in my bones.
In the silence, I light a fire with my magic and wonder what I had done by coming here to find a strange Fae I barely know.
