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Rainer’s brow quirks up. “Is that all?”
“For now.” I cross my arms angrily, narrowing my eyes at him.
“If there’s more, do come find me. I rather like it when you show a bit of spine, human.” He shoots me a wink before sauntering down the hall. Then he pauses. Slowly, he turns to face me. “I see you.”
“What?”
My face must betray my confusion, because he clears his throat and clarifies.
“What you said about Fern the other day. ‘All you have to do is look’… I see you, human.”
Without another word, he strides off.
This time, there’s nothing cruel in his tone when he calls me human. I’m left standing at the bottom of the stairs, my palms sweating and stomach all twisted up, wondering what just happened. I swear Rainer went through four different moods in the span of one short conversation—concerned, to angered, to amused… to flirtatious?
There’s more to the prince than first appears. Perhaps he doesn’t hate me as much as I thought he did. And most curiously, I’m left wondering: did the faerie prince just flirt with me?
eleven
Like the Little Rose She Is
Rainer
I wake in the middle of the night with a violent jolt, my hair slicked back with sweat. My palms shake as I grasp the sheets beneath me. I growl into the dark night.
The same nightmare.
Again.
I can’t escape it.
In it, I’m with my mother, my father, and my brother. We’re happy. Until we’re not. And it all ends in bloodshed.
Refusing to give the nightmare anymore power, I push it from my thoughts. I won’t dwell on the details, nor will I replay it in my mind. I need to let it go, in order to survive.
I hop out of bed, smoothing down the black satin sheets. Striding to my balcony, I push the set of double-doors open, taking a deep breath. The air holds a hint of humidity, rife with the sweet, floral scents I hold dear.
The scents reminding me of the best parts of my mother.
Tilting my head up toward the pitch-black canvas overhead, I close my eyes and let the sounds of crickets and night-critters consume me.
With a few minutes of deep breathing, the nightmare is gone. Unfortunately, so is any opportunity for peaceful sleep.
My mind wanders, finding an image of the scrawny girl with too-big eyes, a freckled nose, and white-blonde hair. The human girl with the lightning-shaped tattoo marking her porcelain skin.
The thought of someone holding her down at just five years old, piercing her skin with their ink and needle, marking her like cattle enrages me. My fists shake at my sides, and I have to fight all over again to calm myself down.
The human girl reminds me of the most fragile bits of myself.
I hate it.
I’m not a fan of humans as is. From their egos, to the way they disregard the earth and each other, to how pathetically weak-minded they are. Already, I’ve taken in Fern, and now, I have another occupying too much time in my mind.
I should hate the new human.
Alessia.
I tried hard not to say her name aloud, not to give it power. Names carry meaning for the fae, and now that I’ve tasted her name on my lips, it’ll be even harder to let her go.
