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They pour into my brain, flooding my senses, screaming, nearly as loud as the…
Wings.
Wing beats.
The fireflies.
They’re a roar in my skull.
The night comes alive like an orchestra, four times more intense than what I thought it would be. Oh. My. Goodness.
No wonder Ollie can’t even with restaurants like Steak ’N Shake. The shriek of fluorescent lighting would kill me now.
“I can still see color,” I whisper, jolting when some small creature jets beneath a bush beyond the water.
“Rabbit,” Ollie offers. “And, wait, you thought you wouldn’t be able to see color?”
“Dogs can’t see all colors, I thought? Is that only an issue when we shift?”
“I…have never thought to change my eyes in order to be that accurate to a canine.”
“Oh.” I swallow. “Cool. I won’t either then.” I inhale a shallow breath. I think I can smell that rabbit. “You do change your vocal cords, though.”
“They are more of a package deal that comes with the whole shape of body and snout and teeth and tongue.”
I nod. I’ve found a big bird in the darkness. Is my eyesight different? Just not colorless? That seems…convenient. How very fanfiction of my eyeballs to ignore the annoying memos in favor of the upgrades. I wonder if that bird’s an owl. “Do you think a Fenrir could talk? It’s the son of a giant and a Norse god, so it seems like it should be able to. Telepathically, even. Extra splash of magic on the magic. For funsies.”
“I think maybe this is a conversation for Willoughby, who has developed a theory that all fictional gods from different cultures are based off faeries who may or may not still be around and may or may not be painfully egotistical as they allowed an entire population to believe in their existence as deities.”
“Alana would love that theory. It implies powerful creatures without benevolent intentions. She’s all for antagonists.”
Ollie hums. “Yes, well, I worry for your sister and the knowledge she’s been given.”
“She’ll be okay. I think.” I hope. “On a more imminently pressing topic, how to Pomeranian?”
Ollie rises and offers his hand. “I think maybe I should teach you how to clothes first. Human attire will get tangled up as you shift. And I’m no longer under oath to behave myself if you shift back naked.”
I gasp, popping up off the rock. “Scandal.”
He smiles, warmly. “We’re married, beautiful. It’s not a scandal anymore.”
Everything in my chest feels right, even as the world attacks my senses with incredible fury. In the chaos, there’s Ollie. And dwelling on his scents and sounds makes things easier. “Can I make any clothes?”
“Yes.”
I grin. I smell my own blood. I hear his heartbeat. It’s pounding. It’s afraid. He’s afraid. I think I can smell his fear. Can he not smell my excitement? Lifting my hand, I discover a dried bead of red where the prick was just moments ago. “I heal quickly now?”
“Magic fairs poorly with injury. You can learn to control the pacing once you’re more aware of how to reach for the power you hold as a full fae.”
“I am no longer going to be covered in mystery bruises.” A streak of pure ecstasy flies through me—overwhelming my every nerve ending. Gripping Ollie’s shirt, I yank his mouth down to mine. His heart skips, then it steadily paces itself as he wraps me in his arms.
“You smell good,” I whisper against his lips.
He sighs into my mouth. “Yeah. Sorry. That’s…kind of…want. So.”
My face heats.
“I will try to contain myself so you can play with your new powers.”
