Chapter 1

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Pretty effin' badly.

The next day

When Alexios left my house yesterday, I was expecting to anxiously pray that Castor didn't hurt the little ent baby during the several weeks it would take Alana to get in touch with me.

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

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 opening after our initial hello's 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. I know we talked a bit at the Christmas party about anime, so maybe you just come here a lot?" Her deep hazel eyes sparkle. "Are you all the regulars?" She scans the vaguely oriental reds and golds, cheap lucky cats, plastic bamboo planters, and paper lanterns. "I have to say, I've spent so much time in Faerie since I moved out here, I didn't even realize there was a noodle place nearby. I thought we had to go a town over to the sushi train."

"Are you talking about Kitsune Sushi Bar?"

She lights up. "Yeah! All the girls headed out that way about a month ago. I think Kass almost invited you, but then she remembered it was a streaming night?"

I hum. "That sounds about right. Right now, I usually stream three nights a week. Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday."

Alana's eyes lift toward the small light dangling over the table. "Is…today Monday? Do you need to be back by a certain time?"

"Today is Monday, but no. I canceled tonight's stream." My phone has been blowing up since this morning when I found out Alana could see me tonight. People have been asking if everything is okay, sending love, and having mild panic attacks in the comment section of my posts. I'll deal with them later. Threading my fingers together on the table, I smile. "Sorry if I'm about to bypass formalities. 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 a taking up a lot of RAM in my brain."

Alana mirrors my position at the table. "Right. Yes. 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."

"Yeah, he's a twerp."

I snort. "That has been the verdict, yes."

Alana's smile tames until it feels like I really am sitting across from a princess. Thoroughly stern, she meets my gaze squarely. "Castor has somehow managed to manipulate a dryad sapling into becoming 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 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. If you know anything about nymph myths according to humans, the dryads are spirits of trees, and if their tree is killed, they die. That's not actually true. Every sapling that didn't become a baby will grow into a tree. The ones that bring forth an actual fruit pour all their energy into it and die once the fruit falls." She shapes her hands together. "It's a mango-looking thing, about this big. The little dryad babies kick through the skin when they get hungry, then the eldest of the copse dictates who takes care of them until they are old enough to move into their own tree."

"Do dryads not have belly buttons?"

Alana splays her fingers. "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."

My heart squeezes as I picture a tiny baby growing inside a mango. "So, Castor managed to nurture a sapling into a little ent boy…but since it's barely possible for one to become a dryad, we know definite tampering was involved?"

"Yes."

"Do you think he's okay?"

Alana draws her hands back and plants them under the table. "He's unseelie. That means something in his origin is innately dark." Her eyes close. "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? Alexios told me Castor needed the baby as collateral; however, I'm not stupid enough to think he's telling me the full truth."

Alana's eyes reopen, emotionless pools, looking through me.

Gathering my strength, I continue—voice rocking with a mixture of subdued rage and brokenness, "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."

"Castor hasn't made any threats public, and Xios and I haven't included Cael on the details of what's happened. He doesn't know there's an ent baby yet. 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 itself meant it lost most of its chances. We would 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. Castor has to know that, too. So, either Xios isn't telling either of us everything he knows, or he doesn't know yet 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 how much you know about how faeries 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."

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—thread through 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."

It's a beautiful picture. But I've spent my entire life hearing the voices of faeries who did not mean half so well. "Do you know what your depression baby asked for in order to make it so I could 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 the fact he knows he can manipulate me by using a baby. I understand he lives with Kass, Pollux, and Meda, and I know she 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 this 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 position where I can't help."

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

"Zahra!" Jaxson appears at our table with our drinks, tosses his long ponytail back, and frees a breath. "Girl, I'm so sorry these are so 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. "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 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 it's 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."

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?"

"You people so well. How people so well? Are magic?" Her eyes narrow. "Well, yes. Yes, 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 veryvital detail he told me?"

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

"I don't know if telling you would break his trust."

"Shatter it."

"I can't be blamed if I don't tell you, but you 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?"

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

"Trust me, I face new stuff and things daily, but there is some stuff that's fairly standard." She lifts a hand and tilts it back and forth. "You know. The stuff that would need to be presented clearly in every installment of a book series, just as an example. The foundational stuff. And things. You think you're pretty familiar with that?"

Well, I know about the not thanking thing, and the can't lie thing, and I have a decent handle on the relationships of Kass's friends, including knowledge that a faerie realm rests just outside human perception and Cael and Alana's domain encapsulates Mountain Vale, Virginia. "I think so."

"Excellent. Kiss him. Kiss Xios. That will take care of everything."

My brain thumbs through my faerie knowledge—and winds up in the intimate section.

With soulmates—like Kass 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.

Blood rushes from my face as I slowly put one and one together.

Alana's eyes jet off me, out 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, everything clicks.

Alexios…is my soulmate.