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Alessia
The night sky is void of starlight, but twinkles with mischief instead. Fireflies sparkle in harmony with the stars and a bonfire roars with a cozy warmth beyond the gardens.
A few yards away from me, flower-covered tables—sporting vases of those alluring, aphrodisiac Damask roses—sit in a ring around a makeshift dance floor, where fae of all sorts work their feet skillfully to keep up with the rhythmic strings filling the air.
Though almost everyone is decked out in stunning, wispy dresses and silkiest fabrics, their feet are bare. Many wear flowers in their hair as they dance upon the grass.
Laughter and joy wash over me, and I relax as I realize this is the first time I’ll be at an event for something other than servitude. Granted, the lord’s events were typically balls, auction, or charity events—black-tie, stifling, uptight—whereas this event seems carefree and harmonious.
A curvy brunette female runs past us with no top—her nipples puckered and exposed. I balk and look away bashfully.
“Fae don’t find bodies as revolting as humans do—it’s part of nature,” Das Celyn whispers to me.
“I’m not used to this,” I say, my face hot with secondhand embarrassment.
“Bodies are nothing more than flesh and bones.”
I ponder their words for a moment. “That is true I suppose.”
“Enjoy the eve. Stay away from the faerie wine. I’ll see you around.” With a stern look, Das Celyn falls into a crowd.
“Wait, don’t leave me!” I call after them, but they’re already lost in the crowd.
My hands grip my skirts, as I nervously scan the yard. Other than the curious stares—no one pays me much mind.
A beautiful female with a headful of curls passes me, offering me a rose. I take it with a smile. When she’s not looking, I hand it off to someone else nearby. Based on the amount of roses, moonberries, and wine overflowing on tables and in hands in every direction, it’s clear this party is meant to incite pleasure.
Since I’ve already made a fool of myself with the moonberries, I’ll stay away from those and the roses tonight. I want a clear head when I speak with Rainer. And I will speak with him. I’ll demand it.
Besides, I’ll let Fern’s story be a lesson. A warning. About what can happen when a human loses themselves to faerie magic.
Making my way to the food tables, I find myself mindlessly swaying to the music. The itch to dance builds in me. Rainer isn’t anywhere to be found, but I continue searching for him.
Right away, I spot another familiar face—the beloved bear shifter.
“Little human!” Ken roars at me, blocking me from the table I was approaching. A few eyes swing our way, crinkled with humor.
“Human,” a passing fae scoffs, glaring at me.
“Gee, announce to everyone that I’m human, why don’t you.”
“Oh, we all know when there’s one in our midst.” He winks. “Why are you empty-handed? Want some wine?” He offers me his chalice.
“Das Celyn warned me not to indulge.”
“Das Celyn doesn’t know how to enjoy a night off work.”
He tugs me to him in a friendly side hug, then I pull away to admire his bright slacks and tied back hair. He looks tidier than I’ve ever seen.
A burly male with a glass eye sidles up and wraps a hairy arm around Ken’s neck affectionately. “There ya are, big fella.”
Wanting to find Rainer anyway, I sidestep their large forms and move towards the food table.
Someone steps up beside me, the warmth of their body giving me goosebumps.
“Has anyone yet told you—” a soft, sensual accent caresses my ear as they whisper.
“—to stay away from the wine?” I interrupt. “Yes they have.”
