Rime’s ear is soft and delicate, just like mine or anyone else’s. But as I trace a wary finger along the outer edge of the shell, I feel a sharp point at the top, instead of a curve. This is no hallucination. His ear is warm and smooth and very real.
Rime rubs his jaw and stares at me in awe. “She’s incredibly powerful.”
“I know.” Leo clutches one of my hands to his chest. “Betts, look at me.”
Look at me. What he said to me last night, mere hours ago, when we were together in bed, both of us lost in the throes…
I choke on a gulp. “What are you?”
“I’m not human.”
Rime cuts in, “We’re fae.”
Fae. “Faeries?”
They both nod.
I shrink back, shaking my head. God, what thefuckwas in my cup of coffee?!
“Betts—” Leo pleads. “It’s true. We’re real.” He reaches for me as I crab walk away, but Rime thrusts an arm out to block him.
“But…but how?” I splutter. “Where…?”
“We’re from a place called Nàdar,” Rime answers. “The Northern Isles of the Tuatha Dé Danann.”
What the ever-living fuck?
I ladle through the soup in my brain, trying to dredge up any knowledge of the fae. I’ve heard those words before, Tuatha Dé Danann. I’ve streamed the shows, seen the movies, read the most popular fantasy-romance books. Supposedly, faeries live underground or beyond the mist. They’re powerful, amoral, and hundreds of years old.
Instories.
Because faeries. Aren’t. Real.
I splutter, “Are you immortal?”
“No,” says Rime. “But we usually live a decade or so longer than you.”
Laughter burbles out of me—hysterical, maniacal laughter. “What about Santa? And the Easter Bunny?” I’m coming apart. “Oh, I know—werewolves! Are they real too?”
Rime and Leo exchange frowns as Topaz edges into my peripheral vision. All three of them are so horrifyingly, breathtakingly beautiful.
“Wings?” I blather. “Where are your wings? Aren’t you supposed to have them?” I do. They still sit atop my bookshelf, only half-mended.
Leo says, “We don’t have wings.”
All the legends and myths tangle in my mind. “But you can go out in the sun. It doesn’t hurt you.” No wait, that’s vampires. I give a wild shake of my head. I’m so stupid. This is so stupid.
Leo scoops me up into his arms. “Give me a minute,” he tells the others.
I’m in too much shock to fight him as he carries me down the hall and sets me on his bed. I lie back, roll to my side, sit up. But no matter what position I’m in, I can’t breathe.
Leo lowers himself down in front of me.
“The gold in your eyes—” I reach out with trembling fingers, like I can catch the stars in his dark irises. “I’ve seen it before. Why do they do that?”
Those twinkling stars flash even brighter. “You’ve seen it before?”
I try to swallow, but my throat doesn’t work. I barely manage a nod.
