Chapter 19

Stella

From my spot on the riverboat, I watched Oz as he surveyed the other passengers. His gaze lingered on each person with a careful, calculated assessment. The thing about all of the other passengers was that they were all women.

It was happening again. My man was looking at other women to step out on me with.

I"d gone to the bathroom to check my appearance. Despite everything we"d just been through—the running, the coyotes, the mud—I looked damned good. Hell, even if I had been getting ready to go to the club with my girls and I"d walked in looking like how I looked in the bathroom mirror, it was clear; I was looking fierce.

Why couldn"t he see that? What did I have to do to keep a man"s gaze fixed on me? What good was my magic—my foresight, my tailoring, my touch-up abilities—if I couldn"t keep a man"s attention?

The Mississippi River flowed steadily beneath us. Its waters glinted in the late afternoon sunlight. The breeze carried the stench of water mixed with the faint odor of whatever magic was used in the motor. It smelled surprisingly like diesel, but there wasn"t much of that ancient energy source left in this world. There certainly was little need for it when magic was an infinite source of power.

Even with the unpleasant smells, the setting was serene. The Mississippi River, vast and mighty, stretched out before us. The banks were lush with life. Trees lined the edges, their leaves whispering secrets to the breeze. Grass, foliage, and bushes crept toward the bank. It was as if nature itself was trying to get away from the land where all the people were.

Despite the serenity of the setting, a part of me remained on edge, watching Oz as his gaze ran up and down, over and around each and every woman on the boat. I tried to tell myself that he was just being vigilant, protecting us from potential threats. The small, insecure voice in my head had whispered nonsense in each of my past relationships. It was high time I tuned her out and listened to my own voice.

Problem was my voice sounded just as insecure.

I wished I could transform my body as effortlessly as I could mend a tear in fabric or style my hair with a simple magical gesture. What if I could just wave my hand and morph into a slimmer version of myself, more like all of these women Oz appeared so interested in? Would that make me more appealing? Would it prevent him from looking elsewhere?

Truth was, I"d walked this path before, molding myself to fit someone else"s ideal, only to end up in pain, feeling a loss of my true self. This was my body, the one that had endured every trial, every moment of joy and sorrow. There was a hidden strength in these curves, a resilience that went beyond the physical. It was woven into my identity.

I knew the fault never lay with me or my body. It was always the men who chose to wander. It was never a flaw in my being.

I knew that. Every woman who had been cheated on knew that. Didn"t change that gnawing feeling, that nagging voice in our heads.

As Oz"s eyes moved from one woman to the next, that insecurity gripped me tighter. Tighter than the belt cinched around my waist to show off my bust line. Big girls like me looked best when we highlighted the skinniest portion of our waist, which was usually right under the boobs. Bringing attention to that spot formed the shape of an A from the top of the head on down to the feet. An added benefit of drawing the eye to the A-line was focusing on the boobs, which were my best asset.

Oz had barely glanced at my boobs earlier when he told me to go fix myself up. Men always looked at my boobs. Always.

The woman he was looking at now barely had an A-cup.

Maybe Oz was an ass man? But my ass was fabulous. That other woman"s was flat as a fairy's.

Not that all fairies had flat asses. Niamh had a killer backside. But she wasn"t pure fairy, so she had more curves than those leafy leeches.

"Hi there."

I blinked to see that the fairy was standing in front of me, a tentative smile on her face. Glancing over, I saw that Oz had closed his eyes as he leaned back against his perch. Either the fairy was no threat, or she was coming to ask me about him. Everyone had seen me come on board with him. Then they"d seen me on his arm.

Did this fairy think we weren"t together? Or maybe she didn"t think I could hold on to him? Well, she was in for a rude awakening.

"I just wanted to tell you that I love your outfit."

My gaze narrowed at her. Was it going to be kindness killing? Well, two could play at that game. "Oh, thank you. I love your…"

And there she won this game. The woman was pretty much in rags. Her clothing was tattered and dirty. But she smelled like a bed of flowers. Of course she did, frigging fairy.

"I"m sure I look a mess. As soon as I saw that portal open, I ran for it. I"ve been through one before -a portal opening, I mean. I didn"t want to wait and see what came out. So I ran, and here I am, trying to put as much distance between me and it as possible."

The fairy shivered under the late afternoon sun. It was an involuntary body reaction. She was telling the truth. I knew when someone was lying to me. I just preferred to pretend I didn"t know.

"It"s magic."

"What magic?" She cocked her head in that way that fairies did. Suddenly I was missing Niamh. If she was with Tori, she would be fine. Even if she wasn"t with Tori, she was smart enough to stay safe.

"Here, I can fix your top for you," I said, feeling a bit of transferred loyalty since my friend might be this fairy"s kin.

"Really?"

Extending a hand toward her, I let my magic flow. A soft, warm glow emanated from my fingertips. The threads wove together, mending the tears and holes with delicate precision. I decided not to make the mending too perfect. I didn"t need any unnecessary competition, especially not from a fairy who already possessed that rose-blush beauty.

The fabric mended, looking much better than before but still carrying a hint of its previous war. "There," I said, pulling back and admiring my handiwork. "Not perfect, but it should hold up for a while."

"You"re with the brooding shifter, aren"t you? He can"t seem to take his eyes off you."

I looked up at Oz again. But he wasn"t looking at me. His eyes were opened but focused on another woman. "Yeah, we"re... together."

"That"s an understatement. He"s been clocking everyone on board. I almost didn"t come over to you."

"He… what?"

"I can"t wait to meet my fated mate. I just hope mine is as protective of me as yours is of you."

The fairy gave me a playful punch on the arm. When she did, her bare fingers brushed against my skin. It must have been the contact that triggered the vision.

A chill coursed through me. It was the same chilling shiver that shimmied over her shoulders when she"d spoken of the portal opening. Like her response, this vision wasn"t a lie. It was about to happen.

From the murky depths of the river, a dark horse emerged. It was the darkest black, like looking into a void. Its form was massive and menacing. It rose, water cascading from its shadowy form. Its eyes blazed with a malevolent light.

Its neigh shattered the silence, a sound so piercing it clawed at the very fabric of the air. The calm of the boat flipped like a switch. Everything, everyone descended into chaos. The scent of fear and the shrill echoes of screams came from everywhere and nowhere. I wanted to cover my ears, but the sounds were coming from inside my head.

In the vision, I searched for Oz. He wasn"t far. He stood with his back to me. He was an immovable statue, frozen and unresponsive to the pandemonium around us. That didn"t seem right. He should be the first into action. But he wasn"t even trying to protect me. The sense of abandonment, of utter isolation, gnawed at my heart, a cold dread settling in my stomach.

Turning, desperate for any sign of safety, my inner gaze fell upon the fairy. The vibrant life that had animated her moments before was extinguished. Her body lay eerily still on the wooden deck, a crimson stain spreading beneath her. A silent scream caught in my throat.

Back on the other side of reality, the scream found its voice—my voice. The last thing I saw before everything came true was Oz moving toward me, coming to my rescue. The problem was, he was already too late.