Chapter 5

Shouts from a distance broke Sorrel from his stupor.

With his head swimming, he couldn't hear the voices properly, and he didn't particularly care to. They weren't talking to them, and that's all that mattered.

"Are you okay?" Cypress asked as he rubbed his prickly cheek against the side of Sorrel's head.

Sorrel couldn't stop himself from doing the same, scratching his own face with the texture. It felt wonderful while his body was tingling with satisfaction, and Sorrel sighed contentedly.

I feel like I'm floating.

"Yes, sorry," Sorrel said as he finally let go of Cypress, a blush rising.

Sorrel didn't feel okay. His mind and body were heavy. He felt shattered after what Cypress had just done to him, but he didn't want to reveal that.

Then Sorrel sucked in a sharp breath when he realised his shaft was still exposed. They were outside!

Sorrel's hands shot down as his face reddened further, not quite sure what to do in this situation or how to behave. Cypress' hands came forward and shooed his away.

"Let me," Cypress offered, tucking him back in his trousers and rebuttoning them for him. Then Cypress did the same for himself. "And before you say anything, this is how it'll always be. I'll always take care of you afterwards." Cypress leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the side of Sorrel's chin with a grin. "Since I may not always be as gentle as I was with you tonight."

"I've never done anything like this before," Sorrel told him, averting his gaze to the side. "I've never even come before."

Cypress gently forced him to look forward. "I'm glad I was here for your first time. I'll take them all."

Take them all? "Wait... so, this isn't for one night?"

Cypress' eyelids rapidly blinked as his head reared back. "I fucking hope not. Don't think I'm going to let you go that easily, Sorrel."

"But why me?" Sorrel rubbed his arm awkwardly, amidst the mingle of fluttering hope and crushing dismay.

"Because you're handsome and fun, and I can already tell you're going to drive me crazy. I don't come that hard for just anyone, and I wasn't even inside you. You're wonderful."

A smile lifted into Sorrel's expression, and he leapt forward, throwing his arms around Cypress.

"I think this has been the best night of my life," Sorrel mumbled.

"I would say that was impressive if I wasn't under the impression that it hasn't been very long. You said earlier today while you were in the garden that you came from a flower?"

Sorrel nodded as he backed up. He should have been more upset that he was watched, perhaps a little longer than Cypress was leading on, but he didn't care.

"A witch gave Greta a barley grain, and it turned into a flower. I hatched from its closed petals as I am now."

Cypress' forehead crinkled, and he cocked his head as though he found that difficult to believe. His lips thinned, making the hair around them draw in. "How long ago?"

"The beginning of last spring."

Sorrel had hatched from that flower, fully grown, with the ability to understand the world, to speak, to think intelligently. He'd been born a man, although his humour with Greta was childishly playful on purpose to incite her laughter.

"And she named you?"

Sorrel nodded. "Yes, after the flower I sprouted from."

Cypress raised a brow, but eventually shrugged.

"I was curious how you came to be, but I don't really mind that you are made from magic. All that matters is you are here now." He reached for Sorrel's hand so he could start leading them back to the town. "Come. I couldn't resist touching you, but there is still so much to show you."

The rough warmth sent tingles through Sorrel's fingers and knuckles, making him grip Cypress' hand tighter in return. I can't wait to tell Greta about him. About this night, everything he had experienced.

Perhaps Sorrel would leave out what they'd just done down the privacy of a narrow alleyway, but he was sure she would be joyful at learning about the rest.

Sorrel flushed. I still can't believe I did that with someone I just met.

"Can you tell me more about the fairy court?" Sorrel asked, curiosity taking flight. I want to know everything about him, about fairies. "And what it is you do when you're not kidnapping unwitting men and flying them to towns next to ponds?" He eyed the sword on his belt loop. "Are you a guard or a soldier?"

Perhaps he could teach Sorrel how to really fight. To give him a real sword rather than the fake wooden one Greta had given him.

Cypress laughed as he shook his head. "One question at a time." Cypress glanced over his shoulder to reveal his wolfish grin with even white teeth. "We have all night, or even tomorrow, or the day after that."

"O-or maybe even longer than that?" Sorrel asked nervously.

"Yes, if that's what you want." Cypress' expression then turned from playful to soft. "That's what I'm hoping for, at least."

Sorrel's eyes bowed with longing, and hope, and every joyful emotion he could possibly feel.

Just as they re-entered the town on the side closer to the pond, where it was more cluttered and busier with sprite people, someone yelled from above.

"Prince Cypress!" Five female fairies with fluttering wings landed in front of them. Each one gave off a different colour of magical dust: blue, green, and shades of yellow. "We've been looking for you, your highness."

A disgruntled groan fell from Cypress as his hand tightened on Sorrel's, and he rolled his head on his shoulders. "Is it not possible for me to have one night to myself without the royal guards chasing me down?"

"It's important, sire," one of the guards stated.

They were covered in flower-like armour. White-and-pink petals were fitted over their bodies, with helmets hiding their faces. Gauntlets tightened on the hilts of swords that appeared to be fashioned out of sewing needles.

"And you are always running away from your duties," another stated, her voice stern despite its femininity. "How is tonight any different?"

Sorrel's eyes widened as his chest constricted.

When Cypress let go of his hand to ask them what they wanted, it gave Sorrel the chance to back up to put space between them.

Prince… They said prince… They called him Prince Cypress.

He placed his fingertips of his right hand against his forehead, his mind dizzy. Have I really been spending the night with the prince of the fairies?

Then his face paled. Sorrel definitely shouldn't have done what they just did with a fucking prince! Yes, it made his heart flutter at the same time, but he also didn't feel like it was right.

He'd read stories of princes and princesses. They built relationships on politics and valuable heirs – with other royals.

I'm not even a damn fairy. Sorrel was so beneath Cypress, so why did he choose to spend the night with him? A wingless man.

Shouldn't he be with a princess?

It felt like his heart was shattering before it nearly leapt out of his chest when he was yanked roughly. Someone stuffed a piece of cloth in his mouth before a bag was shoved over his head.

Darkness shrouded his vision.

Strong hands restrained his arms, and he kicked his legs in desperation as he was dragged backwards.

"Thypis!" he attempted to call out in a last-ditch effort.

But the prince didn't answer.

What's happening?!