Chapter 1

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Pretty effin' badly.

The next day

When Alexios left my house yesterday, I expected that I'd spend the next few weeks anxiously praying for the little ent baby while I waited for Alana to get in touch with me.

After all, despite the fact Alana and I met once at a movie night hosted by one of Kassandra's new friends and once when she helped Kassandra out with our school's Christmas party last year, she is a princess. And a princess is a government leader.

And governments are responsible for the DMV wait times.

Clearly, the fae government in Prince Cael and Princess Alana's kingdom has got something together, because here we are, at Ichiban Ramen for dinner, just over thirty hours later.

"How famous are you?" Alana asks after our waiter, Jaxson, leaves with our drink orders.

Well, that's an odd segue after our initial hellos out front. "What do you mean?"

She twirls a finger in the air. "The entire restaurant knows you. Three other customers greeted you before we sat down. Is the YouTube gaming career you mentioned last time we met more popular than you let on?" Her deep hazel eyes sparkle as she scans the vaguely Asian-inspired reds and golds, cheap lucky cats, plastic bamboo planters, and paper lanterns. "Or maybe you're one of the regulars? We did also rant about anime for a while. I've spent so much time in Faerie since I moved out here, I didn't even realize there was a noodle place in Mountain Vale. I thought we had to go a town over to the sushi train."

"Kitsune Sushi Bar?"

She lights up. "Yeah!"

"I love that place." I slap the table. "Their inari avocado rolls are my absolute favorite. They don't even offer inari here."

Beaming, Alana bounces in her booth. "Willow, B, and I headed out that way about a month ago. Kass said she couldn't come because of cross contamination, but she almost invited you. Unfortunately, it was a streaming night."

"Bummer." I click my tongue. I would have loved to go with the faerie people to the sushi train. "Right now, I stream three nights a week. Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday. Any other night, I'm in. Just…okay, maybe not some Fridays, either, because the LARP crew comes by once a month on a Friday. But give me a week's notice, and I will clear my schedule for sushi."

Alana's eyes lift toward the small light dangling over the table. Calculations flicker through the deep green shades of her irises. "Isn't today Monday? Do you need to be back by a certain time for streaming?"

"Nah. I canceled tonight's stream." My phone has been blowing up ever since I posted the news on Leopard, Twitch, and YouTube. The moment Alana's message about being able to meet me came through, I stopped everything I was doing and cleared my day.

I have been sitting on my couch, scrolling through short-form content, and checking the time every three minutes, while absently reassuring followers and online friends that I am not dying just because I canceled a stream.

It's likely I got here thirty minutes early and have spent every last one of them in prayer.

When my stomach dips with the blunt reminder this isn't a social call, I thread my fingers atop the table and force a smile. "Sorry to change topics on you so suddenly. I will want to know everything that's going on in your world—including which animes this season you're finding time for—but the issue at hand is taking up a lot of RAM in my brain…"

Alana mirrors my position on her side of the table. "Of course. You had concerns about the offer Xios presented yesterday."

"I do. Could you start by telling me what you know? No offense to Alexios, but I've heard stories from Meda, so I don't exactly trust him."

"Yeah, he's a twerp."

I snort. "That is the verdict, yes."

Alana's smile tames until she is the picture of royal grace. Thoroughly stern, she meets my gaze. "Castor has somehow managed to manipulate a dryad sapling into bearing an ent child. Dryad saplings aren't normal trees. They are germinated in Faerie for decades until they are saturated thoroughly with magic, then they are brought here and planted. Their sisters nurture them, and very rarely one brings forth fruit. That two in this harvest have resulted in fruit is unheard of."

"Is there any reason we're calling a baby a fruit ?" I ask.

Alana blinks and tilts her head before laughing. "Oh, right. That is a little weird in human context. Sorry. It's literal. In human mythology, dryads are tree nymphs whose spirits are bound to a specific plant. If the flora housing their spirit dies, so do they. But none of that is true. Every dryad sapling will either become a dryad—embracing the magic in them—or a regular tree—as that magic fizzles out. The dryads don't live apart from their spirits. When a sapling brings forth a literal fruit, the plant pours all its energy into it, then dies when the fruit falls." She shapes her hands together. "The fruit's a mango-looking thing, about this big. The little dryad baby kicks through the skin when she gets hungry, then the eldest of the copse decides who takes care of her until she is old enough to be on her own."

I blink. I calculate. I let my lips part. "Do dryads not have belly buttons?"

Alana splays her fingers, losing her regal airs. "I asked the same thing when Cael told me about it. Apparently their little bellies are connected to the stem of the plant, so they do? But, wow—" She flicks a finger between us. "—same wavelength."

I can't find the will to smile. My mind is stuck firmly on the image of a tiny baby growing inside a mango. My heart squeezes. "So, Castor managed to nurture a sapling until it became an ent boy…but since it's barely possible for one to become a dryad, we can assume he tampered with nature?"

Alana's smile withers as she lowers her gaze. "Yes."

My hand closes into a fist. God, give me strength. "Do you think he's okay?"

She pulls in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "He's unseelie. That means something in his origin is innately dark." Her jaw locks. "That doesn't mean he can't live a happy life."

"Why am I being brought into this reverse Rumpelstiltskin, Mother Gothel situation? I'm told Castor doesn't have time for the infant, but what does everyone else seek to gain? I'm not stupid enough to think Alexios is telling me the full truth when he says Castor is using the baby as collateral."

Alana's eyes fix on me, emotionless pools, so chillingly unlike what I've come to expect from her.

Voice rocking with a mixture of subdued rage and brokenness, I continue, "It's one baby. No good prince would bend the knee and risk the rest of his kingdom to spare a single, unknown infant who, from what I'm hearing, wasn't even meant to be born. That's real crappy collateral."

"Castor hasn't made the child's existence public. Since Xios and I haven't included Cael in the Villain Protection Program, knowing he wouldn't approve of our efforts, he still doesn't know there's an ent baby at all. When the sapling was stolen, the only way we consoled Pila was by reminding her how delicate it is for a dryad to be born. Uprooting the plant alone meant it lost most of its chances. We could not offend Castor just to retrieve a hopeless plant. Our choices were to let it go—or start a war." Alana combs her fingers through her short dark hair. "You aren't wrong that Cael wouldn't risk so much damage to spare one creature from anything, not even if that creature is an innocent. Castor has to know that. So, either Xios isn't telling either of us everything he knows, or he doesn't yet know what Castor is actually planning."

"Is Xios on our side?"

"He is under oath to Cael, which means failure to abide by our laws can result in any punishment Cael deems fit. I trust Xios. I don't know if you're aware how many of the unseelie are born…but Xios is mine."

"What do you mean he's yours ?"

"Xios came from the darkest places in me. He is a culmination of the thoughts and feelings that could have killed me. His existence is how I survived my bleakest moments before I had anything akin to substantial help."

My brow arches. "So, he's like your depression baby?"

Dryly, Alana chuckles. "Yep, my brain likes to refer to him as my itty bitty emo infant son."

I don't have the energy to respond to that with a smile. "Do you know if this emotional attachment you have to him is reciprocated?"

"I know that he cares. I know that his soul's song is a suffering, lucid tune—woven with a melody of gentleness. I know that Cael has never felt malice in him. I know that our people respond well to him. The fae, each in their own way, are good at recognizing patterns in a person's character. If anything were off, Cael or I would hear about it directly. Our people, our eclipse , does not hesitate to express itself to its leaders."

That's a beautiful picture. But I've spent my entire life hearing the voices of unseen faeries who did not mean half so well. "Do you know what your depression baby asked for in exchange for letting me see past glamours and enter Faerie without going insane?"

Alana's dour mood brightens. Scooting to the edge of her seat, she plants her hands back on the table. "Do tell."

"Everything."

She waits a moment, searches between my eyes, says, "Is that…the end of the story?"

"Yup. He said he wanted everything from me in exchange for making this possible. I'm also not sure how I feel about him using a baby to manipulate me. It's like he knows me too well. I understand he lives with Kass, Pollux, and Meda, and I know Kass knows how badly I've wanted to adopt, but I also know she doesn't blabber on about that stuff. I can recognize a power imbalance when I see it. And it kills me to not jump on the opportunity to help if there is any way I can make sure this baby isn't being abused…but it won't do that child any good if I put us both in a vulnerable position."

Alana's gaze skids off me, dumbfounded and vacant.

"Zahra!" Jaxson reappears at our table with our drinks, tosses his long ponytail back, and frees a breath. "Girl, I'm so sorry these are late. There's just—" His eyes roll as he places a perfectly manicured hand on the table and gives me a look . "I know I don't have to get into it. Lord help me. My coworker about to—" He swears. "—around and find out. You get me?"

I lean back, garbing myself in a less serious fa?ade. "Dude, don't even worry about it. Just ask yourself if they're jealous of your nails before you let them get all up in your peace. Are those tiny peaches ?"

He gasps and sets his hand to his chest. " Yes . You noticed." He clicks his tongue. "But of course you did. My Zahra never fails me."

I grin. "Who did them, slash where am I going to get mine done while I'm on spring break?"

"Honey. You flatter me."

"No."

" Yes ."

"Okay, well. How much do you charge, and do you want me to meet you somewhere or would you prefer to stop by my place?"

He throws his head back and laughs. "Girl, you are a delight. This is exactly what I needed. Just you wait and see if I can't get these late drinks on the house."

"Bro. You do that, and they're going in your tip."

He scoffs. "As if I needed more incentive." Glancing between Alana and me, he beams. "So are we ready to order? I'd be surprised if you weren't, what with how long it took my lazy—" He swears. "—to get back over here."

Alana presses her lips together, glances at the menus we haven't touched, and opens her mouth.

No words come out, so I say, "I think you're gonna have to be surprised, but you know what? Start us off with your favorite appetizer, and we'll try to figure out what we want by the time you get back again."

He winks. "You got it."

Once Jaxson leaves, I turn my attention back to Alana.

She has clasped her hands together against her lips, and she's staring at me like I'm an alien.

"What?" I ask.

"You people so well. How do you people so well? Are you magic?" Her eyes narrow. "Well, yes. Yes, you are magic. But still . Fascinating." Shaking her head, she plants her palms flat on the table, leans over her menu, and says, " Zahra , are you telling me my tiny baby emo not-son didn't tell you the very important, very substantial, very wonderful, and very vital detail he told me?"

"I'm going to assume that he did not…?" I match her energy and lean forward. "What's going on?"

Immovable, she watches me, hardly bothering to blink. "I don't know if telling you would break his trust."

Oh noo. So sad.

I plant my elbow on the table and my cheek against my fist. "Shatter it."

"I can't be blamed if I don't tell you, but you manage to figure it out, right?"

"Absolutely flawless logic, Your Majesty. Clue a sister in."

Alana takes a deep breath, nods, and says, "Zahra. You know a decent amount about the fae by now, right? Meda's informed you pretty well about stuff and things at school?"

"I hope so. The mango baby stuff and things was new."

"Trust me, I face new stuff and things every single day, but there is some stuff that's fairly standard." She lifts a hand, emphasizing. "You know. The things that would need to be presented clearly in every installment of a stand-alone book series, just as an example. The foundational stuff and things. Do you think you're pretty familiar with that ?"

Well, I know about the not thanking thing, and the can't lie stuff, and I have a decent handle on the relationships and fae designations of Kass's friends—vampire cats, dog shifters, dream eaters . I know that a faerie realm rests just outside human perception, and I understand that Cael and Alana preside over the domain that encapsulates Mountain Vale, Virginia. Since each one of those topics feels like it could create an entire novel while I have the SparkNotes version, I'm going with a solid: "Maybe?"

"Excellent. Kiss him. Kiss Xios. That will take care of everything, and you won't have to give him anything else."

My brain thumbs through my bare-bones faerie knowledge—searching for something that includes kissing. Inevitably, I wind up in the intimate section.

With soulmates—like Kassandra and Pollux.

And how one claims a soulmate with a kiss .

And how claimed soulmates—even when they're part human—are able to see past glamours and enter Faerie without going mad from all the magic in the air.

A kiss alone binds soulmates together, in the same world.

Blood rushes from my face as it all becomes clear.

Alana's eyes jet off me, toward the restaurant, before she whispers a veggie swear and snatches up her menu.

While she buries her nose in the laminated pages, dread settles in the pit of my stomach. I shove it deeper down before it becomes the horrible whispers that all too often fall out of my ears.

Right as Jaxson makes it to our table with our appetizer, I dare to consider the implication that…

Alexios…is my soulmate.