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Twenty.
Then he... dives into the water. Like an idiot.
Maybe his osprey form has addled his senses?
What is wrong with him?
Is he huntingnow?
I dive after him, grabbing his back with my claws and hauling him out of the water. The glacial liquid is freezing, and I hiss.
He's fighting me, biting at my claws for a few minutes before falling limp in my grasp.
That's unexpected. I thought he'd at least fight.
But seeing as how I was begging that bitch Fae Veronica not to kill me just this morning, it's understandable.
The shoreline is in sight now, as the endless pine trees covered in layers of snow become bigger with every beat of my wings. There's a tiny fishing village near here, but I aim for a secluded forested spot.
As I dip lower, the osprey moves in my grasp. Suddenly he...what in the name of the gods is he doing?
He shifts into his Fae form mid-air, his feathers rippling and giving way to skin. Squawking, I let go of him as soon as he's over the snow and perch on a branch above. I can see red slashes down his golden back from my claws, and sorrow ripples through me before I dip my gaze lower and realize-
Where are his gods-damned clothes?
He starts yelling. “I don’t suppose you could bring me some clothes, you nasty creature!”
Nasty creature?
Wait.
He doesn't know what I am—who I am. Maybe I've just imagined everything? I play every single interaction we ever had quickly through my head, but I don't know.
Sighing, I jump off the branch and shift, landing perfectly in the snow.
His eyes, those beautiful, captivating eyes, go wide as he stares at me. I can feel his gaze surveying me, and it takes every ounce of willpower not to lower my gaze.
The male's eyes go wide. “It’s you,” he practically whispers.
Of course, it’s me.Wait.I have a more pressing question.
"Why are you naked?" I spit out, trying to hold back a discomforted laugh trying to rise within me.
Gods, I am so awkward. That's what happens when you grow up in near isolation. If it weren't for Helena, I probably wouldn’t have spoken to anyone.
He stares at me, and I note the peachy-red tone that blooms across his face and ears. “How are you still wearing clo—?” He stops suddenly and gives me a long look. “Damn, Elva. Whatisthat?”
I'd forgotten about the leather jumpsuit I'd taken from Veronica's duffle. I look down at my outfit, adjusting the fit before his words settle in my ears.
Elva.
He said my name.
I stare at him with wide eyes. “How do you know my name?” I demand while taking a step forward. My cheeks go hot when I catch a long strip of pale skin. I shake my head. “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.”
He grins.
Damn, Summer Fae. His face lights up in such a carefree way when he does that. A dimple dances on his cheek.
