by Wendi Wilson
“So, what have you tried?” I asked.
“The Sylph council has sent several delegations to meet with the Zephyr council—”
“The Zephyrs have a council, too?” I asked, cutting him off.
“Yes, though their council members are more figureheads. The real power lies in the hands of Queen Sebille.”
“Queen?” I ask, my jaw dropping. “They have a queen? How did I not know this?”
“The Zephyrs do not share the details of their hierarchy with the humans, and Sebille has never shown herself to them.” He tilts his head to the side, his eyes roving over my face. “You do know we Sylphs have a king, right?”
I could feel the color drain from my face and Rowan’s eyes drifted closed as he groaned. It was a sound of frustration, which made me feel guilty on top of the stupid I already felt.
“What on Earth is Professor Alfred even teaching you?” he said on a sigh. “I apologize, my dear. I should have assumed responsibility for catching you up fully, rather than expecting your other teachers to do it. This is my fault.”
I shook my head at his words, brushing off his apology and asking, “Who is our king?”
My voice cracked a little on the word “our.” I was still getting used to lumping myself in with the Sylphs, rather than just the humans. I was both, so I needed to get used to it.
“Why, it’s Finn, of course.”
“Finn…Oberon? As in, the Finn Oberon who is the headmaster of this school? That Finn Oberon?”
The words fired from me, my voice bordering on hysteria as Rowan watched me with confusion etched across his features. He didn’t know why I was freaking out. Hell, I didn’t know why I was freaking out.
“Yes,” he said. “That’s the one.”
I leapt from the couch to pace in front of it. My blood was roaring in my ears and my fingers clenched and unclenched of their own accord.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I accused. “I met the freaking king, and you didn’t even tell me. What if I offended him, somehow?”
I tried to think back to our meeting, to remember my words and his, but my mind was racing too fast with all the new information and I couldn’t focus.
“December,” Rowan said, and a wave of calming warmth, flowed across my skin, seeming to seep through my pores and into my very bones.
“Thanks,” I said, taking a deep breath and perching on the edge of the sofa next to him, feeling the last remnants of his magic wash over me.
“You’re very welcome,” he said, “though, your panic is unwarranted. Did Finn seem like a tyrant to you? One you should fear?”
I thought back to our meeting and shook my head. Finn had been friendly, forthcoming and incredibly kind. Just like Rowan had always been.
I cocked my head at him, asking “Are you royalty, too?”
He laughed. “Heavens, no. Finn and I are extended cousins, but I have no claim to the throne.”
I smiled, but it quickly fell. His words triggered something inside me and I started to shake.
“Easton,” I whispered.
“Yes,” Rowan answered, you are correct in that assumption. “Easton is the heir to the Sylphid throne. One day, he will be king.”
“Hey.”
I was running around the perimeter of the gym when Easton fell into step beside me with that greeting. I nodded, mouthing a response, but no sound came out. My voice refused to work.
I knew I was being stupid when I scurried into Sociology at the last second and was the first one out the door when it was over. I had no clue what to say to Easton, no explanation for the sudden loss of our easygoing rapport.
What was I going to say? Oh, sorry. I found out you’re slated to inherit the kingdom one day and I can’t take that kind of pressure?
Easton suddenly veered to the right, forcing me along with him. We ended up in large storage closet filled with sparring equipment. He grabbed my forearm, pulling my attention away from gear hanging on the walls.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded.
“Nothing,” I said, pulling from his grasp and crossing my arms over my chest.
“You’re lying,” he accused. Before I could act offended, he added, “Your colors are all wrong.” His eyes skittered around my head and shoulders. “I can tell you’re nervous and…something else.” His eyes probed the air around me again. “There’s unease. Almost like fear.” His eyes narrowed as they met mine. “Are you scared of me?”
“No,” I said, my tone a little too sharp. “No,” I repeated in a calmer voice.
“What’s changed?” he asked, and I swore I saw a vulnerability in his eyes that I’d never seen before.
I knew I needed to get a grip. Easton and I had been training together for weeks. We hung out outside of class and shared a few brief kisses. I knew we were a little more than just friends.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my shoulders drooping. “It’s so stupid.”
“What is?” he asked.
I swallowed, hard, and said, “I found out yesterday that Finn Oberon is an actual king.”
Easton’s expression didn’t change, save for a quick twitch of one eye.
“Yes, my grandfather is king,” he confirmed.
“And one day, you’ll inherit the crown.”
His head tilted to the side, his eyes roving over the air around my head and shoulders once more. After a few seconds, his gaze met mine, one eyebrow arched.
“You know, that fact is what usually makes people want to get close to me. Wealth, power, the promise of one day being queen…it’s a very strong pull. But you look terrified, like I might have to stop you from bolting out of here at any moment.”
The word “queen” echoed over and over in my head. I could never be a queen. I couldn’t even access my magic at will. The need to escape coursed through me as my breathing accelerated.
“Hey,” Easton said, his voice soft and reassuring as he stepped toward me. “I was only kidding. December, relax.”
He circled his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. I rested my cheek against his shoulder, but my body remained stiff as panic still engulfed me. Easton’s palms flattened against my back, rubbing soothing circles as he whispered words into my hair.
“If I were ever to become king,” he said, “it would be in, like, four hundred years, December. You’re freaking out over nothing. We’re kids, and we have a lot of time to just be kids.”
I didn’t know if he was using magic, or if just his words alone were the reason, but I felt the panic ebb out of me. He was right. We were just kids. And by the time he was ready to be king, I’d be a nothing but a memory. A blip in history.
And I was suddenly very aware of his body plastered against mine, his warm hands creeping closer and closer to my ass as he rubbed circles across my back. My nose was pressed against the warm skin of his neck, his heavenly scent filling my nostrils. Of its own volition, my tongue struck out to wet my lips, its tip brushing against his throat.
Easton inhaled sharply, his body going tense though his hands continued their comforting path up and down my back. The taste of his skin lingered on my tongue, making me want more. My insecurities balked against making a move, begging me to wait and see what Easton would do.
But my body had other plans, the strength of my attraction far stronger than that of my self-doubt. I wanted a real taste of him, and heat coursed through me as I imagined licking my way across his body.
His own temperature seemed to spike in time with mine, making the heat almost unbearable. I wanted to squirm out of his embrace to find relief from it, but instead, my arms crept up around his neck and my fingers tangled in his hair. Tightening my grip on the white-blonde strands, I tilted his head to the side and pressed my open mouth to his neck.
It was like some spirit had taken over my body, turning me into an insatiable vixen. I sucked at his skin before running my tongue across the spot. He tasted like heaven, all salty and sweet and everything in between.
A
groan vibrated in his chest as one hand slipped down to cup my ass and the other tangled in my hair. Pulling me even tighter against him, he twisted my head to the side and ravaged my mouth, his tongue demanding entrance as soon as his lips crashed against mine.
This was not like his previous sweet, exploratory kisses. It was raw and full of passion, and my heartrate skyrocketed as I realized he had lost his usual stoic control. A heady sense of power rippled through me, and I gripped his hair tighter and kissed him harder.
Easton tore away from me, speaking between panted breaths. “We…should…stop.”
I rubbed a palm down my arm, chasing away the chill I felt at his sudden absence. Logically, I knew he was right. We were in a storage closet in the middle of gym class. Anyone could have walked in at any moment. Emotionally, though, I felt a slight sting of rejection.
“Don’t,” he said, pulling me into his arms again and pressing my cheek against his chest. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t say I wanted to stop. I said we should stop.”
I nodded against his chest. As the heat of passion ebbed out of me, I quickly filled back up with mortification. I’d acted like some sex-craved hussy. Easton probably thought I was desperate for attention.
“December,” he said, his voice cutting through my turbulent thoughts, “I can see the colors of regret and shame glowing around you now. What’s going on in your head?”
He pulled back and gripped my chin gently, forcing me to look into his eyes. They were filled with concern, and I felt tears sting in the corners of my eyes. I fought against the sting and swallowed thickly.
“I don’t know,” I hedged, but he just stared me down while refusing to release his grip on me. Knowing I couldn’t lie to him, I admitted the truth. “I’m embarrassed. I don’t know what came over me and now I’m afraid of what you must think of me.”
My face heated with that admission, but my gaze remained steady on Easton’s. His mouth fell open as his eyes widened.
“What I think? December, I think you’re amazing. You’re smart, and kind, and gorgeous. You intrigued me from the beginning and the closer I get, the closer I want to get. I’ve been holding back because I thought that’s what you wanted. What you needed. This,” he said, motioning between us, “is what I’ve wanted from the beginning. What I’ve imagined over and over in my head. I’ve just been waiting for you to get there.”
He pressed his lips to mine, gently this time, before pulling back to look at me. I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from turning up with pleasure. He smiled back at me, and the effect nearly took my breath away. He was so beautiful.
“I said the right thing?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.
“Yeah,” I said with a chuckle. “You said the perfect thing.”
He kissed me again and I could feel the smile on his lips. When he pulled back, I dropped my hands from him and started to turn toward the door.
“Well, I guess we should get back to class before we’re missed,” I said.
“December wait,” Easton said, his hand snaking out to grip mine. “Don’t go yet.”
I waited for him to explain as a ruddy color tinged his cheekbones. He looked embarrassed and as the seconds of silence ticked by, I started to panic.
“It’s okay,” I mumbled. “We can leave separately if you’re embarrassed to be seen leaving here with me.”
He squeezed his eyes closed, letting out a frustrated groan before popping them back open.
“I am not ashamed of anything, December, especially not you. I would be proud to have you walk by my side, always. Believe me, the other guys here regret not offering to be your gym partner before I did.”
I didn’t know if I believed that, but it was sweet of him to say it.
“Then what’s wrong?” I asked.
He rubbed a palm against the back of his neck, saying, “Well, your wings sort of popped out when I kissed you.”
I looked over my shoulder, twisting around in a circle like a dog chasing its tail, and sure enough, my big black wings fluttered behind me. I hadn’t even noticed, being so wrapped up in Easton and his amazing lips.
“What am I going to do?” I asked, panic working its way through my veins.
“Stop,” Easton said, gripping my shoulders. “I didn’t want to let you walk out of here without knowing they were visible, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think you should. You shouldn’t try to hide who you are, December, and these wings are part of who you are. Besides, I think they’re beautiful.”
“But they’re black,” I hissed, unwilling to let his flattery soothe me.
He spun me around and held me in place, and I could feel his eyes burning a path across my back.
“Yes, they’re black. But they have these thin streaks of silver through them. A silver that reflects the other colors around them. God, I wish you could see it. It’s breathtaking.”
I felt his breath on the back of my neck a split second before his lips brushed against the spot. Then I was spinning again. When I stopped, I was facing him, and his lips pressed against mine firmly.
“Let’s go,” he said when he pulled back, lacing the fingers of one hand through mine. “I’m right here beside you, December.”
I read the extra meaning in his words and hoped I wasn’t imagining it. He was right beside me in that moment, yes, but it felt like he meant more. Like he’d stay by my side. Always have my back.
No matter what.
Chapter 27
27
“…and now I can’t get them to pop back in.”
I was in Rowan’s office, pacing back and forth with my wings fluttering behind me. I’d given him the short version of what had happened in gym, leaving out all the steamy bits. I’d gotten a few curious stares as Easton and I had left the gymnasium, but it seemed having him by my side really was a godsend. No one said a word.
“You can do it, December. You just have to let yourself do it,” Rowan said after Easton left us alone.
“What does that even mean?” I snapped, looking at him like he’d lost his marbles.
“You are blocking your own abilities. Your disbelief and your doubt are your greatest enemies. You must believe in yourself. Believe in your power. You have it all, right there inside of you. You just need to accept it and it will come naturally.”
“I believe. I believe. I believe,” I chanted under my breath, my eyes squeezed shut and fists clenched.
I didn’t feel anything. Not even a whisper of power. It seemed I could only use whatever shreds I possessed when I was highly emotional—frightened, angry, turned on—and only on accident. I was broken.
“I can’t do it,” I said, my shoulders slouching.
“You can,” Rowan replied, his voice deep and growly before taking a long drink from his snifter of amber-colored liquid.
“I can’t,” I insisted. “I’ve been trying. Every day in this office for weeks. It’s not working.”
I knew I was being childish, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was angry at me, not him, but for some reason it was easier to focus the negativity on Rowan. I’d been working with him long enough that I felt comfortable around him. He’d always had endless patience with me, handling me with kid gloves and giving me time and space when I needed it.
Which is probably why I didn’t handle it very well when he said, “Stop feeling sorry for yourself, December. You just need to concentrate. To accept your gifts and let them flow through you. You’re hurting no one but yourself with this defeatist attitude.”
“Screw you, Rowan,” I hissed, anger coursing through me.
And in a fiery blaze of glory, I stomped through his office door and slammed it shut on my way out.
I strode down the hall, no destination in mind. I was mumbling angry words as I turned one corner then another. I didn’t meet up with anyone, and I was glad, because they probably would’ve thought I was insane.
I found myself at the entrance to the gym. I pulled open the door and stuck my h
ead through the crack, glancing to the left, then the right. The room was empty. I slipped inside, letting the door close softly behind me.
Remorse hit me like a bag of bricks and I plopped down onto a sparring mat. Rowan didn’t deserve my anger, and he certainly didn’t deserve my harsh words. He’d done nothing but try to help me since the second I arrived on the property, and how did I repay him? By throwing a tantrum and spewing hateful, angry words.
I didn’t even understand how it had come to that. I’d never behaved that way. Ever. And I certainly never disrespected adults or authority figures.
I needed to apologize. I stood up, determined to go back to Rowan’s office and beg him to forgive me. He was one of the few adults who’d ever really cared about me, and I didn’t want to lose our relationship because of my previously nonexistent temper.
A fluttering at my back as I walked toward the door made me groan.
“Ugh, I wish these wings would go away.”
An electric shock rippled down my spine as my shoulder blades made two distinct popping noises. I looked over my shoulder, my eyes wide with disbelief. The black appendages were gone.
“It can’t be that easy,” I murmured. Was Rowan right all along?
“I wish my wings would pop out again.”
Two more pops and a chill down my spine later, I felt them fluttering at my back. My heart jumped into my throat, my pulse pounding against my eardrums. As breath rushed in and out through my open mouth, I imagined feeling light as a feather.
And my feet lifted off the ground.
My wings were pumping, controlled by my brain like any of my other appendages. Simple as walking, I floated a few feet forward before my feet touched back down.
“Wind,” I whispered, and my hair billowed out as a cyclone of air spun around me.
I moved my hands, guiding the breeze back and forth across the gym, and it followed each instruction I gave. Pure joy filled me up and erupted from my fingertips as I danced around, shooting streams of air in an arc over my head and around in a circle.