19. The Fae King
She thumped my chest, right above my rotting heart, and her ocean eyes battered me like relentless waves. It was as if she knew what lay beneath my tunic, as if she could see clearly the dark circle that surrounded my heart.
She wanted more?
What more did I have to give?
Without another word, she turned her back on me and began to walk away. In her haste, she had forgotten my family’s Book of Iron. She was almost to the door when remorse washed over me.
”Wait,” I rang out.
She stopped for only a fraction of a second.
I lifted the ancient book from the table. It had been passed down through many generations. Within its pages were entries on all types of fae, our rivals and our allies alike. Their strengths, weaknesses, and secrets were scrawled on each page in a special ink that hid from prying eyes. It was, in short, a grimoire for faeries. She was the first person I had ever shared it with. I offered it to her again. ”Please, at least take this with you. Make sure you finish reading it.”
She looked like she might simply walk out of the door, but she returned and snatched the book from my hands.
Before I could say anything more, she was gone, leaving me with my thoughts and regrets. It was true I hadn’t known many humans. Sure, I had interacted with them in brief conversations and bargains over the centuries.
But I had never lived with one. I had certainly never kissed one. I trailed my fingers over my mouth. Her lips had been so soft and gentle. So unfae. I hated myself for it, but I knew I would think of that kiss for hours, even days, to come.