Chapter 1

Pressing his chest against the thick ash-tree branch he stealthily lay upon, Cypress adjusted his grip on the rough bark to keep himself steady. His clear dragonfly-like wings fluttered up excitedly. They lifted his tiny body while he tried to keep himself low as he peeked through the red-and-orange leaves that sheltered him.

He was hiding.

All the flower fairies of this forest kingdom helped nurture the flora in time with the seasons. From spring to summer, then autumn – although rarely winter. They couldn't control the change, but they aided with seeds dropping, helped remove rotten stems, and gave a little magical growth where needed.

The late autumn leaves had already turned from green to orange and red, and most had already fallen from their branches. Flower fairies would coax the season's flowers and fruits to sprout with confidence as nature took its course, while animal sprites helped woodland creatures through the transition of the harsh seasons to come.

Only humans with the keenest eyes would be able to see the hundreds of fairies who flew across the forest and meadows of their region. There were millions of them across the world, thousands upon thousands of fairy kingdoms.

The lone human that resided on the farm had never seen the glowing dust particles. She had never seen the busy servants flying around like worker bees. She'd never witnessed the spectacular view as they danced over the grass, herbs, and vegetables of her farm, or how their glowing dust reflected in the stream that flowed around her home.

The animals had. She didn't have as many as she used to, choosing to keep what she needed to be self-sufficient, but they had seen the servants as they spread out to work. The pigs always snorted with greeting in their direction. The chickens clucked and flapped their wings. A goat bleated while chomping, its lazy maws overflowing with grass.

Cypress, alongside every other fairy, had been warned to stay away from her. To do their job of helping the seasons change but to not allow themselves to be seen. To stay away for their own safety.

Until recently, he had no interest in the thin elderly woman who wore round little glasses. Her dress sleeves were always rolled up, revealing busy hands that were usually dirty as she worked.

However, something had caught Cypress' attention the very first day of autumn.

He'd thought the human had a guest his people needed to be wary of. Perhaps a young child who might be more curious and explorative than the withered old lady – if their face wasn't planted in an electrical device's screen.

He'd heard a strange voice. Laughter, sweet and carefree, had drifted over the gentle wind, causing the human lady to giggle in return.

Cypress came closer to investigate the possible danger; he needed to protect his people. Instead, he was stunned by the appearance of a man, no bigger than the old woman's thumb, sprinting past the various farm animals.

He'd never seen him before, and he grew angered that a flower fairy had broken their laws by revealing himself to her.

But his eyes eventually widened in realisation. He doesn't have wings, he observed. There were no glowing, clear, bee, butterfly, or dragonfly-like wings behind his back, as all fairies had.

"Be careful, Sorrel!" the farm owner laughed, watching this ‘Sorrel' as he managed to duck a pecking beak before he climbed the metal outside table she was seated at.

The skill he did it with – jumping from the table's footrest to a tin on the ground, to her knee, before he launched himself up to grasp the table's edge and haul himself over it – struck awe into Cypress. Even without wings, he was swift and so nimble it almost didn't matter that he lacked them.

He was also incredibly strong and flexible.

And then he made Cypress uncontrollably burst with laughter.

He stood on the edge of that table, and leaned over to stare down at the hen jumping and squawking up at him. Sorrel pressed the tips of his thumbs into his cheeks until they caved in, wiggled his fingers, and stuck his tongue out at the chicken in a teasing manner.

His long black hair fluttered over one of his shoulders, the length of it coming to the bottom of his chest. It was tied in a ponytail to contain its glossy strands.

Cypress' eyelids crinkled at the sides as he chuckled warmly at the lean-bodied man.

The people of the fairy court would never have done something so graceless. Their noses were so far pointed in the air he feared they'd flutter upside down – he'd been hoping to witness something humorous like that.

The bubbly and free-spirited nature of Sorrel had immediately clutched Cypress' heart, and he'd returned every day to watch him from afar. He should have been doing his part to aid the other fairies in preparation for the harshest seasons to come, but he'd been too ensnared by his beauty and his radiant personality.

Cypress hoped Sorrel might one day look in his direction, even if he never saw Cypress hidden in the trees, or the flowerpot he sometimes used to get a closer look.

Sorrel's eyes were the prettiest ice blue he'd ever seen. Cypress wanted to see them up close, to see his own reflection shining in them.

His face was clean shaven, showing a strong, jutting jaw. Yet the rest of his face was gentle – masculine, but soft. His lips were thin but looked plush, even from afar, with the bottom one having a natural slight pout to it. It was a face that had been carved by the angels.

Cypress ducked a little more forward from today's spying spot on the ash branch as Sorrel rang a bell much too large for his body. It looked as though he was trying to help round up the farm animals for their breakfast feeding, as the many chickens followed its sound. He ran along the top of a fence post, staying above the ground so he was safe from any pecking.

Even with Sorrel's tiny body, Cypress had witnessed him do everything possible to help the lady work.

An icy wind cut through the trees, blowing many of the leaves to the ground. Cypress winced as it tried to pick him up and blow him away. He gripped the rough bark tightly with his feet and legs.

"It's almost winter, Sorrel. I don't want you coming outside when it snows. You could be buried in it."

"Snow?" the tiny voice yelled, rough but pleasant, as he placed the open cup of the bell down to lean against its handle. "Is that the white stuff that falls from the sky in television shows?"

Cypress' brows furrowed deeply.

How can he not know what snow is? He appeared to be a full-grown fairy man, despite being wingless. He should have seen many seasons.

She leaned down and held her palm out, beckoning for Sorrel to hop from the fence to her. There was no hesitation as he leapt, jumping further than humanly possible.

"Yes. The water in the air freezes and blankets the world." She brought him up to nuzzle the side of her wrinkly face against his entire small body. "It's very dangerous."

"This will be my first winter since I came from my flower. I survived everything else. How bad can it be?" He shoved his hands on his hips and shook his head at her. "You worry too much – I'm stronger than I look."

"It's only because I care." The old lady laughed while heading inside. "Since it's a wonderful day, let's have a picnic while we still can."

He has never seen snow. Cypress' gaze drifted over the bark he lay across and then over the remaining leaves of the ash tree. He doesn't have wings.

After watching him for so long – all of autumn, to be exact – he'd come to discover that Sorrel wasn't aware there were more people the same size as him. The only person he knew was the woman.

Winter is coming. Another drying leaf creaked as its stem released from the twig it had been attached to, twirling and swirling before fluttering against the ground.

Cypress squinted his eyes in the direction his recent obsession had gone. I want him to see Pond Town before it's buried in snow. That meant he had to come out of hiding and introduce himself soon – now, even.

His gaze drifted to the farmhouse, and he eyed the wooden back door. Cypress was both nervous and excited. He would have to bring his bird mount to carry them both since he doubted Sorrel would let Cypress carry him, but a wide grin spread across his features.

I want to show him the world.

When they both returned outside, Sorrel was seated on the edge of a cane picnic basket the lady was carrying on her arm. Leaning back on his hands, his feet kicking, he waited for her to set it down on the grated table.

"If you want to grab some fresh berries from the garden, I'll go get our tea ready," she stated.

Cypress figured she was unable to carry everything at once.

"Okay, Mother," Sorrel answered with warmth, and she turned to leave.

This was Cypress' opportunity, and his wings fluttered excitedly behind him as he flew closer. Just as he was about to land on the table, Sorrel jumped down to the garden bed next to it.

Cypress followed, landing on the dirt to follow him. Pushing stalks of assorted herbs out of the way, he searched for the pretty man. A bush ahead shuddered, as if something was picked from it.

Sorrel came into view, holding two raspberries by their stems.

Just as Cypress reached out to grab his shoulder, a greeting bubbling at the back of his throat, Sorrel dashed off in the direction of the table. Cypress was left grasping at thin air.

Shit. He chuckled at the way Sorrel had evaded him. He's hard to grab ahold of. Rather than be annoyed, Cypress crinkled his nose at the alluring scent Sorrel left behind. He kind of smells like jasmine.

He chased after the disappearing fairy.

I guess I need to corner him.

And quickly, before the human returned.