But they did have a fated mate. Known as their ffrindau, each of the fae was promised a soulmate, though so many of his kind didn’t believe in the fanciful notion. They took mates as they pleased, knowing that any union could last until a ffrindau came and shattered it.
Ash had never thought he’d find his. Born more than three centuries ago, he wasn’t as young as Nine, but he was still considered a youth to his kind. Most fae didn’t find their ffrindau until they measured their years in millennia instead of centuries, and since he had never lacked for female companionship, his fated mate was an idea instead of a reality.
It still was, but after how his every instinct told him to save Callie from the kobold, he wasn’t so sure anymore.
And, for one of the fae, being unsure was very, very dangerous.
Next to the pebble, he looked at the watch that had stopped ticking as soon as he brought it through the portal and into Faerie. A soldier through and through, Ash was always thinking ahead. He’d grabbed the timepiece before he left Callie’s cage, sensing from its aura that it belonged to the male who had imprinted on her home.
The Mitch she spoke of.
Ash wasn’t so certain he would need it, but it never hurt to be prepared. He wanted to believe that mindset led him to also take the third item he was holding, but Ash knew better.
He took Callie’s tiny hairbrush because he wanted to bring something of hers with him, and he was pleased that it held countless strands of her lovely, pale hair.
Using two long, slender fingers, he unthreaded a single strand, holding it up to his eyes in open inspection. It wasn’t quite white, he decided, but more of a white-blonde. There was a distinction, and it had everything to do with his curious human.
So engrossed in deciphering its shade, Ash never realized that he had company.
A knock sounded at his door. “Open up, soldier.”
Ash disappeared the pebble, the watch, the brush full of her lovely white-blonde hair back into his pocket. He patted the bulge along his hip, making his uniform as pristine as possible, then pressed his thumb to the crystal again.
The lock disengaged with a soft snick. Before Ash could reach to grip the knob, it was already turning.
The door swung outward, revealing a Light Fae with an extra row of golden buttons along his collar.
Captain Helix.
“Evening, Captain.”
Helix nodded at Ash. “I’ve come because of the queen.”
Of course he had. Helix was the captain of her guard, and though rumors among the ranks wondered how much longer he would keep the post when his loyalty was tied much closer to the throne than to who sat on it, he had managed to do something most deemed impossible: he’d kept his head these last two centuries.
A formidable male, and one that managed a second impossible feat: he had earned Ash’s respect during the last of the Shadow Wars.
The Shadows Wars—fought between the Dark Fae who refused to accept that the Fae Queen was also their ruler, and the Light Fae who enforced Melisandre’s whim—had ended more than a century ago. Before she became queen, the Summer King ruled the Seelie Court while the Winter Queen ruled over the Unseelie Court, including the Shadow Realm. Despite how sick the Shadow Realm made the Light Fae soldiers, they still succeeded with the help of the Wild Hunt, driving the Dark Fae soldiers further into the shadows.
If it wasn’t for the fact that, shortly after Oberon disappeared, the Winter Queen vanished, maybe the Dark Fae would have had a better chance. But with both monarchs lost, Melisandre found it all too easy to take both thrones.
There were still too many casualties, too many immortal lives cut down. While some of the lesser faerie races could be struck down more easily than others—including kobolds—a fae could survive any wound save for decapitation. There were other fae-killers, too, of course. A Brinkburn, banishment to the Iron, too many shadows for the Seelie, sunlight to the Dark Fae… but when it came to mortal wounds, chopping off a fae’s head was the only way to go.
None were faster with a sword than Helix, Ash recalled. He struck down their enemies without hesitation, but he wasn’t a merciless killer. Those who didn’t deserve death kept their heads and, deep down, Ash respected that.
Which was why, though his hand itched to grab his own sword, he steadied it. Before he jumped to the conclusion that Melisandre had learned of his trip into the Iron, he might as well find out why Helix was there.
“What is it the queen wants from me?”
“There’s a skirmish in Scáth,” Helix explained. Scáth was the largest city in the Winter Court, and a site of more than a few battles during the last war. “The queen has sent a few guards to shut it down before it becomes trouble.”
“Does she want me to go?”
“No.”
Ash narrowed his gaze on the captain. “Then what does she want?”
Helix gave a graceful shrug of his shoulders. “Nothing which, considering she’s still cross with you, is a good thing. But the palace guard is not as strong with some of our best on the frontlines, and an elite soldier wasting time on the edge of the realm. You’d be better off returning to duty at the palace. I can make that happen for you. Just say the word, Ash.”
What would Helix want in return? It wasn’t a favor exactly, or even a bargain, but it was enough to tilt the scales toward the captain.
Either way, after that day, Ash had only one answer for him.
“Don’t intercede on my behalf, Captain. I’m fine where I am.”
Helix nodded. “If you change your mind, let me know. I’ll talk to the queen.”
Ash thought of the brush in his pocket, and his plan to cross back into the Iron as soon as he possibly could.
“Yes, sir.”
6
Knock, knock.
Knock, knock.
Knock, knock, knock…
Callie groaned. She had the very tempting urge to pick up her pillow, cover her head with it, and pretend like she couldn’t hear the constant rapping coming from her front door.
It was a brisk knock with a bit of force behind it. Not quite a banging, but tell that to the pounding of her skull as it beat in rhythm to it.
Quirking open an eye, she peered at her alarm clock. It hadn’t gone off yet, so she knew she wasn’t late, and when she saw that it said seven, she scowled. It was one of her two off days, and while Callie was a morning person, she did like to sleep in until at least eight or nine when she didn’t have to be at Buster’s by six.
Who the hell was knocking at her door at seven in the morning?
Throwing her blanket away from her, she got up. If she could hear the rapping all the way in her bedroom, then so could her neighbors. One of the downsides of apartment living. Unless she wanted the Johanssons giving her the stink eye or Mrs. Moseley stopping over to bitch later, she might as well take care of this now that her headache made it impossible to go back to sleep.
It had to be her, Callie remembered. Last night over pizza, Mitch had gone into detail about the big meetings he had set-up for that morning. It was a huge deal and he was pretty nervous over it. Mitch really was working hard toward that promotion of his, promising her that he’d be around a lot more once he got it.
For now, his hours were long, he often took work home with him, and even though it was seven, he had to have left the apartment already.
As she shuffled toward the door, she thought she might’ve figured out who was out there. Despite her suspicions when it came to the fae male, she couldn’t quite blame Mitch’s missing watch on Ash when her roommate had a bad habit of misplacing his things pretty frequently.
How much did she want to bet that he came back to the apartment because he lost something else?
As she reached for the doorknob, she called out, “Mitch? What’s up?” She swung the door in. “Did you forget your key or something—”
Not Mitch. It wasn’t Mitch.
And Callie reeeeaally should’ve looked through the peephole
first.
Before she could slam the door in his face, Ash swept into the apartment as if he had every right to be there.
Once he was standing in the middle of the living room, he spun on his heel, the same arrogant expression back on his handsome as he took the entirely of her apartment in.
Mitch wasn’t there. It was a good thing, too, because as much as she had believed that she hadn’t seen the last of Ash yesterday, she’d never expected him to show up early the next morning. If it was a normal morning, Callie would’ve already been at Buster’s while Mitch would’ve been having a morning cup of coffee before heading into his office at nine.
And how the hell would she have explained his appearance at the apartment then? Sure, Ash was wearing glamour while he stalked around the human world, but still.
After his quick perusal, Ash turned toward her, looking down his perfect, perfect nose at her. “You didn’t get rid of the other male, Callie.”
Pop!
She sighed as the light bulb in the living room lamp exploded. This time, she didn’t duck. It was only one, and she was beginning to guess what had caused it.
So, instead of being scared, she just got annoyed.
“Can you stop destroying my apartment? That was the last bulb I had, you know.”
“Then you should’ve done as I told you. I don’t want him here with you.”
“That’s funny. Because I don’t want you here with me, either.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. Callie didn’t know what it was that she said or did to get that sort of reaction out of him, but maybe her approach was working. After all of the thinking she did while she was sweeping up the kitchen last night, she had come up with a kind of game plan in case Ash did return. Acting as if she couldn’t be bothered by his presence was right there at the top.
He was fae. A cocky, smug, pretentious being who thought he could tell her what to do if only because he was fae and she was human. If she let him steamroll over her, she’d only prove him right. She had no idea why he demanded an invitation to her home yesterday, just like she didn’t understand why he was back, but she figured that, if she made every moment with her difficult, he’d get the hint and fixate on another human.
And, if she was lucky, he’d forget all about how he saved her and how, to one of the faerie folk, that meant something.
Callie wasn’t from Faerie. She didn’t have to abide by their ancient traditions or their set of laws so twisted, even a lawyer would find it difficult to keep them straight.
And if she kept telling herself that, maybe she’d believe it.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, finally remembering to close the front door before she stalked toward him.
“Did I wake you?” His eyes took in her sleep-tousled hair, the probable crease from the pillowcase across her cheek, and her disheveled nightshirt. His burning gaze dipped from top to bottom, head to toe, lingering on her bare thighs before locking on her chest. He spoke to her tits when he murmured softly, “I waited until well after sunrise to return.”
Callie followed his stare. Crap. It was bad enough that the shirt she slept in last night barely fell past her ass, but the material was worn and thin. While that made it super comfortable as a nightshirt, she just remembered that the white was nearly see-through—and she never slept in a bra.
“I asked you what you’re doing here,” she said again, barely resisting the urge to cross her arms over her chest. And then, when all he did was continue to keep up with that heated stare, she said, “And I don’t just mean my apartment. The park. Yesterday. What do you want with me?”
He quirked one immaculately shaped eyebrow. “Haven’t you figured that out yet?”
Ash had the most beautiful voice. She assumed it was another tool in his arsenal, another lure. When even the timbre of his voice had goosebumps sprouting along her arms, Callie was finding it harder and harder to stay unaffected.
Haven’t you figured that out yet?
Welp, she hadn’t. Not really. At least, not last night.
But now, with Ash standing like a shining beacon in her drab city apartment, too beautiful to be real even though her sight said he was, Callie had to admit she had an inkling of an idea. She might only be twenty-two, and she could only guess how old an immortal creature of Faerie might be, but she’d been an early bloomer. Since she was a young teen, she’d gotten used to older men—and she was pretty sure Ash definitely qualified as an older man—seeing right through any clothes she was wearing, basically fucking her with their eyes.
Just like Ash was doing right now. His sun-colored eyes had darkened slightly, turning to a shade like molten gold; she could just about feel the heat stretching in the space between them.
He wanted her.
Why?
No clue.
Was it possible?
Callie wouldn’t have guessed since, despite twenty-two years of the sight, none of the other faerie creatures had ever looked at her as anything other than a curiosity—or, on a few terrifying occasions, a snack.
And, oh, Ash looked like he wanted to gobble her up just then, but not in the way some of the creatures like that kobold had.
Flustered. Callie was suddenly flustered. Figuring it was too late to hide out in her room or run and grab a robe or something, she decided to own her sleeping attire at the same time as she pointedly ignored his blatant attention.
Change the subject, she told herself. She cast her glance around the room, looking behind her, focusing on anything and everything that wasn’t Ash.
When she saw the side table by the door, she had it.
“Hey. Did you...”
Hmm.
Changing the subject was a good idea.
Flat out accusing one of the fae of taking something from her apartment might not be.
Too bad that Ash wasn’t about to let it go. “Did I what?”
Oh, well. In for a penny, in for a pound.
She shrugged, only to aware of the way his eyes followed the motion of her tits bobbing up and down. “Mitch is missing his watch. I was just wondering if you know what happened to it.”
Ash blinked. For the first time, he looked her in the face. “Are you accusing me of stealing from a human?”
“Not accusing you, no. But you were here, so was Mitch’s watch, then you were both gone. I just thought I’d ask and— oh.”
He was so very quick. Ash’s moves were deceptively graceful, turning him into an even more elite predator. In the blink of an eye, he crossed the distance between them, coming within inches of her. He didn’t touch her, not quite, but they were so close that if she just breathed wrong, her boobs would graze the front of his white uniform-like shirt with the array of golden buttons keeping it fastened.
She noticed the shiny buttons mainly because, as soon as she blinked and saw him right there, she squeaked and dropped her gaze as if unprepared to see the lust in the depths of his matching eyes. Then her eyes dropped further and, all of a sudden, she paid attention to the sword hanging in a white leather sheath at his hip.
That did it. Callie backed up hurriedly.
Unlike the fae, she wasn’t graceful in the least. After a few frantic steps, she lost her footing in a bid to put more of the hall between them. The apartment tilted sideways and, the next thing she knew, she was flat on her ass.
And Ash was right in front of her again.
She would’ve thought that the roaring heat would dim to simmer after the way she wiped out like that. And maybe it would have if Callie hadn’t landed with her legs spread open, giving Ash a direct peek at the teensy, tiny scrap of underwear that barely covered her pussy.
She closed her legs.
Ash gave her a long-suffering sigh, then moved toward her before holding out his hand. “Allow me to help you up.”
His fingers were long, almost unnaturally so. It had the same richly bronzed skin as the rest of him, including his palm. It was one point on Ash that was so very other that she rem
embered just in time that he was fae.
And hadn’t she heard long ago to never give the fae permission to touch you?
It was a buried memory that had made itself known yesterday. Something kept telling her to keep her distance, and during her reading of a few of the fairy books she kept on her bookshelf, there were passing mentions made of that very same warning.
Callie shook her head. “I’m good.”
“Give me your hand, Callie.”
That sounded like a command to her. Good thing that Callie wasn’t her true name, huh.
Pushing herself to her feet, she refused again. “I’m fine. You don’t have to pretend to be a gentleman.”
“Is that so?” Ash frowned. “Haven’t you forgotten? I can’t pretend at all when you’re near.”
“That’s just your glamour,” she brushed off, feeling suddenly annoyed. So they were back to ‘human’ again now? She supposed she deserved it, but still. “I can see through that, but that’s all I can really do. How can I trust you? You could be lying right to my face and I’d never know.”
Ash’s expression turned to one of scrutiny again.
Callie didn’t like it. “What?”
“It’s just that you called me fae. I thought you knew all about my people.”
“Okay. Now what does that mean?”
He turned away from her.
Callie clenched her teeth. If there was one thing that drove her nuts, it was when someone turned their back on her when she was talking to them. Growing up the youngest of three, Ariadne and Hope used to do it to her all the damn time. It was infuriating. And maybe she’d started it by throwing down the gauntlet when it came to not being able to trust him, but he was fae! How was she supposed to trust a fae she just met, even if he did save her?
“I asked you a question, Ash. I know you’re fae. I know you’re from Faerie. Excuse me if I don’t know much more than that, but when most of the faerie creatures I run into are, I don’t know, actively trying to hunt me, forgive me for not asking them all about their differences. I’m human, as you keep reminding me. I shouldn’t know about Faerie. You’re lucky I know as much as I do.”
Glamour Eyes: a Rejected Mates Fae Romance (Wanted by the Fae Book 1) Page 5