

Forever

A Novella

By Kamery Solomon
Praise for Forever

"Kamery showed us major SWOON ability. I now have a new fictional boyfriend in Raith... I highly recommend you run out and grab your copies today. There is a new queen of LOVE that has entered the literary world where her words transport you into other destinations."

-Lisa Markson, Mommy Reads Too Much

"Kamery's is Wow! I wanted to reach into the book and just hug the characters! I've never read anything like it and I can't say more without giving the plot away."

-Brenda Anderson, Naughty Bits Book Reviews

"...It introduces a great new author Kamery Solomon, she has some serious talent as an author!"

-Melissa, Amazon customer

"OMG!!!!!! That was amazing! So romantic, i literally couldn't make myself stop reading, lovely story line, it was completely enchanting, I haven't read a book this good since "Shiver" its definately worth giving a try."

- Katishia M Patterson, Amazon Customer

"Raith is an exceptional character that you can't help but love!"

-S. Heath, Amazon Customer

Other Books by Kamery Solomon

Forever

Hell Hall

The God Chronicles

Zeus

Poseidon

Hades

Adrastia

Exoria

Dreams Novels

Taking Chances

Watching Over Me

The Swept Away Saga

Swept Away

Carried Away

Hidden Away

Stolen Away

Taken Away (A Swept Away Saga Origins Story)

The Lost in Time Duet

Finding Freedom
Forever

A Novella

By Kamery Solomon

Happily Ever After Publishing - Arizona

Copyright © 2012 Kamery Solomon

Edited by Irene Hunt, Third Eye Tight Editing Services

Formatted by Stargazer Design

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Published by

Happily Ever After Publishing

Arizona

Smashwords Ebook Edition

Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

This book is available in print and ebook format.
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~For Mom and Belinda~

Acknowledgments

Sitting down and actually writing out something that I had created was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I wanted to quit so many times! Luckily for me though, I had many great supporters that got me to the finish line!

Thank you Mom and Belinda, for telling me that I could do it and that it would be fun. I know that I didn't believe you at times, but it was worth it!

Thank you to my mother in law, Vicky, for watching my daughter when no one else could. As much as I enjoyed her helping me write, I think everyone would have been upset to find a manuscript full of threes, haha! Thank you to everyone else who helped with babysitting also, you were a huge help.

Also, thank you to my husband, Jake, for dealing with me through the whole thing. He had to listen to story lines, complaints, tears, and laughter. He also watched our daughter most of the time for me. I couldn't have done it without him!

Thank you to Irene, for a superb edit. I was a pain, I know, but it's better now thanks to you!

Kamery
Chapter One

Human minds are easily fooled, I thought.

It wasn't hard for me to do really, especially when they were asleep. Their unconscious state left them weak and vulnerable, an easy target for someone like me. I didn't think I was a bad person, a troublemaker at the worst. I had created some incredible problems for people in the past, enjoyed stepping into their dreams and giving them my own direction. It was always a fantastic laugh for me, not so much for the poor human who'd let me in without realizing.

I chuckled as I remembered the night when I turned an old man's sweet imaginings of golf into a nightmare which involved his putter becoming a snake that ate him. Just as he began his swing, I conjured a giant serpent, suddenly writhing in his hands. The man screamed like a woman and tried to swear, but was stopped short when he was swallowed whole. He awoke so forcefully I was literally thrown to the ground as I entered my own mind again, his screams of terror echoing in the dark.

On a different occasion, I scared a child awake by creating a terrible monster with long claws, wolf like teeth, and glowing red eyes which peered at him through a window. I'd watched from the shadows as the boy played in the sandbox. Ever so slowly, the window gradually appeared just outside the area. The boy, as curious as I'd pegged him, jumped up and ran to inspect the window only to find my creation waiting on the other side of the glass. Shock registered on his face and when the beast let out a terrible roar he screamed. I felt a certain amount of pride over that moment—no one knew how to produce a terrifying growl like I did.

My favorite time to hand out terrors usually coincided with the release of a new horror movie. Poor blonde girls; they always died in the movie, and I was there to help hammer that into their subconscious minds—over and over again with relish.

I mused over the many times I had been . . . uh . . . encouraged to leave the humans alone. I didn't ever get in trouble for anything—exactly—except for a few choice incidents, which also happened to be some of my favorite memories.

My mother, who held a certain amount of sway in things, didn't approve of my shenanigans. She thought they were cruel, as did most of the other Fae. Her opinion only mattered when I still lived with her though, and that was a long, long time ago. When I got caught messing in the minds of those I shouldn't, she would make me do various things as penance. Smaller incidents were punished with a stern talk, larger ones with house arrest. It wasn't too much of an issue then, since seeking out my choice of entertainment hadn't been much of a priority. But as soon as I was on my own, it was all I wanted to do. As a result, I didn't visit very often—or at all.

It wasn't my fault though. As crazy as it seemed, there really wasn't much to do in and around Fae. Time had a way of changing things. I didn't even know how old I was any more. I'd stopped counting somewhere after three hundred because it didn't seem to matter much after that. All the Fae ever wanted to do was romance each other. Ew. That was not for me. Sure I liked girls, but the last thing I needed was another woman to nag me. If they weren't romancing each other, or secretly romancing humans, then they were growing some type of plant. I understand greens are great and all, but really? I seriously worried the vegetation might begin to take us over at some point. There's only so much that can be done with foliage.

Thus, the mortal fantasies became my escape–my salvation from boredom. I tried to come up with something new each night, but being an immortal—having an unlimited amount of nights—was starting to leave me with no fresh ideas whatsoever. I'd been doing this for too long.

Boring . . . Over dreamt . . . Really? Puppies? Socks? That's what you're dreaming about? You have no imagination! I snorted as I stood on the edge of the forest, shuffling through the minds of humans sleeping peacefully before me.

There was a disgustingly low amount of ideas to work with. It was either socks or vampires, neither of which I had much desire to dip into. It had been a while since I'd made my way near this town, and with the way things were looking, I didn't think I'd be returning any time soon.

I decided to give the place one last try, my mind sorting through the few remaining mortals, one of which was having an extremely vivid dream about eating a sandwich. I rolled my eyes and gave a laugh. Nope, I was done here. I turned and began walking into the woods, towards the magical path which would take me home to The Glen.

I was almost beyond the barrier when, suddenly, a dream caught my attention and I froze—my interest aroused. I relaxed and allowed myself to slip quietly into the fantasy, anticipation building at the fun I was about to have.

It was a girl, a young woman actually, dancing by herself in a pool of soft light. She twisted and turned her body with a grace that mesmerized and held me in place with a force I couldn't describe or understand. A classical piano piece was coming from somewhere, but I was so entranced by her I didn't look around for the source, allowing her performance to flood my senses. After a few moments, she finished her beautiful movement and placed her slippered feet into a ballet style pose, then turned, looking right at me it seemed. I knew it was rude to stare this way, but knowing she couldn't see me, I decided to entertain my odd and inexplicable desire to know her better. I was so caught up in what I was feeling I didn't realize she was starting to act uncomfortable.

"Can I help you?" she asked, softly. I continued to watch, held captive by her. Her eyebrows raised and she cleared her throat while I looked around, wondering who she was talking to. I saw no other character in her dream. "I believe I asked if I could help you with something." Her voice was more forceful, almost angry sounding. I started suddenly as I realized she was talking to me.

"Me?" I asked just to make sure I wasn't mistaken. Well, this is a first, I thought.

She rolled her eyes and folded her arms. "Yes, you. Who else would I be speaking to? Do you see anyone else here?"

I looked around, feeling like an idiot. I didn't know what to do. Realizing my stupidity, I quickly withdrew my mind from hers, stunned at the "conversation" I'd just had. I tried to think of why my ability to stay hidden while probing another's awareness hadn't worked, but no good reasons came to me.

Had it been a fluke–a one-time thing? I asked myself. This was completely unprecedented. I analyzed what had happened, and unable to come to any type of conclusion, I decided to reach out to her again. What's the worst that could happen? She'll still see me and I'll leave, end of story, I reasoned.

Carefully, I reentered the dream—this time tip toeing into her imagination. She had resumed her dancing as if nothing had even happened, spinning with unbelievable balance.

Had she already forgotten about me? I wondered. I remained quietly in the shadows, trying not to chortle over her possible attention span problem, thinking of how I should safely test if she could see me or not.

Suddenly, I spotted her ballet slippers and the beautiful ties, which traced up the length of her calves. I smiled devilishly, eager to do what I did best. I stepped boldly from the shadows and imagined the lavish ties becoming vines that trapped her legs together and rooted her to the ground, unable to move.

Take that, dancer girl! I thought triumphantly.

At first, I was sure it had worked. She began to falter and slow, and stopped her twirling, but then I realized it was because she was looking at me—again. I cursed under my breath and immediately began to withdraw, though part of me wanted desperately to stay and figure out how this woman was immune to my powers. I had finally found it—something new that piqued my interest, but there could be a lot of trouble if I stayed. Releasing the last threads of her consciousness, laughter reached me, and I couldn't help myself—I stepped back into the light of her mind.

She smiled at me serenely, still giggling somewhat, and I looked at her quizzically. "What are you going on about?" I asked point blank, unable to contain my curiosity any longer. She stifled the rest of her amusement with her hand and then cleared her throat as her hand returned to her side.

"The face you were making was so peculiar. It looked like you were wishing for my shoes to catch fire—or something—you were staring at them so intently." She started snickering again as she finished her explanation.

I grimaced in embarrassment, a feeling that was completely foreign. "I was doing no such thing," I lied, knowing I would never tell her what I had been doing.

"Then what were you thinking?" She was calling my bluff, her eyes sparkling. I liked her already—she was just as bold as I was. It was as if we were two friends trying to beat each other in a word game.

"What's your name?" I asked to avoid her question.

She smiled and shook her head. "Don't you know you're not supposed to tell strangers things like that?" She spun in a little circle, smiling. Her hands slid through her long hair as she did so, causing it to lift and ripple.

As she moved, I observed our surroundings more closely and noticed we weren't actually in a pool of light as I'd originally thought, but in a long room, completely bare of furnishings. One whole wall was made up of floor-to-ceiling mirrors, which had been concealed somewhat in the shadows. Realizing it was some type of ballroom, I stepped into the glow a little more. It seemed as if doing so should have been difficult since I'd spent my existence in the shadows of the human mind, but those few steps felt like a breath of fresh air. I glanced at myself in the glass wall and realized I'd automatically altered my clothing to match hers, without consciously realizing what she was wearing.

I was in a fancy, tuxedo-like black suit with a loosely fastened red tie. The formal jacket was missing, but I still looked pretty sharp. The sleeves of my dress shirt were rolled neatly to the elbow and matching dress shoes completed the look. My reflection looked close to my normal one, though my pointy ears were missing and my fiery red eyes were now bright blue. My hair remained its usual blond color, styled short and messy. It was odd. Normally, I looked like myself in dreams, mostly because there was no need to change the appearance of someone who couldn't be seen. I figured somewhere in my mind I realized I was a visible role in the dream now, and I needed to look the part.

The girl wore a beautiful ball gown of red silk with little black, gemmed accents, which rustled with every move she made; her raven ballet flats showed only when she spun and the air caught her skirts. Around her neck was a matching jewel and ribbon. Her long ebony hair hung loose in curls, which would have made any girl jealous.

The woman cleared her throat and stretched her hand to me. Turning from the mirror to look directly at her, I raised my eyebrow questioningly as I remained where I was. I suddenly felt apprehensive; I'd never touched anyone during their dream before, though for some unknown reason, I found myself wanting to touch this human.

"Come dance with me," she explained, stretching her hand towards me further, excitement radiating from her smile.

Unsure of what to do, I took a step away, locked my fingers behind me, and shook my head. "No, I shouldn't."

"Don't be silly. It will be fun!" She walked toward me—a woman on a mission—and beckoned for me even more with each step. "How are we supposed to not be strangers if you won't dance with me?"

I tried one more time to step away and found myself against the wall. I started to protest, my nerves getting the best of me, but the plea never fell from my lips. Everything around us silenced the moment she touched my hand, and I felt a spark ignite within me.

I gasped slightly and looked at her as if I was seeing her for the first time. Her eyes became dreamy, dark pools of honey warmth, framed by beautifully long lashes and perfectly shaped eyebrows. Her nose was small and fit flawlessly with the rest of her features, and her smile was the perfect shade of white, surrounded by tempting red lips.

Why didn't I notice any of that before? I thought through the haze.

I swallowed hard as she took my other hand and placed it on her dainty waist. Closing my eyes, I tried to concentrate on anything else, but the warmth of her skin was too much of a distraction. The sensation overwhelmed me even more. When I looked again, she was staring, a small smile still on her lips. All of the years I spent dancing with the Fae fled from my mind

"I, uh . . . , I don't know how to dance," I stammered, looking away so she wouldn't sense my untruthfulness. I felt a fiery shock as she placed her hand on the side of my cheek and gently turned my face until our gazes were connected again.

"Just look at me—at my eyes." She widened her smile. "Only at me."

From somewhere the mysterious music began again, and she relocated her hand from my face to my shoulder. I froze for a moment, but with her reassuring nod, I stepped forward.

I was surprisingly nervous, wondering if she could feel the tremors in my hands, or if she noticed my sloppy footwork. I glanced down at my feet, an apology forming on my lips, but she shushed me.

"Only at me," she whispered again.

I met her eyes once more, and the world fell away as we connected. The music swelled, and suddenly I knew just what to do. I courageously took more control of the dance. Twirling her away from me, my eyes followed her every move. My skin delighting in the fire that hers created as she returned to my arms. And so we danced, never looking away from each other, until the music came to a sad stop and we stilled.

"Emilee." She softly panted.

I looked at her, confused. "What?" I tried unsuccessfully to catch my breath.

"My name is Emilee." She laughed, only this time it sounded like bells in my ears. "You're forgetful, aren't you?" She bit her bottom lip and raised her eyebrows as she tried to silence her mirth. I could feel myself salivate as I looked at her mouth. I wondered what it would be like to kiss her.

What the heck is happening to me? I chuckled nervously, trying to redirect my attention. I enjoyed how free I felt—how different it was to laugh with her. I didn't like the sudden intimate thoughts that kept bombarding me. "Nice to meet you, Emilee." I bowed low and swept my arm out to the side. My mischievous personality resurfaced. I could play a part in her jest. "My name is Raith."

As I expected, she giggled and curtsied, enjoying the game we had begun without meaning to. "It's nice to meet you . . . Raith."

She grinned, and suddenly began to fade away.

"No!" I said, trying to hold on, not ready to leave her yet. I grabbed for her waist and tightened my grip on her hand, but it was no use. I felt the familiar sensation of our minds pulling apart, and I was by myself at the edge of the woods. The sun was rising, and I realized Emilee had woken up. I had spent the whole night in her dream.

I flopped down into the tall grasses and leaned up against a tree with my arms behind my head. I sighed contently and decided right then I would go to her again this evening with the hope she would still be able to see me and we would dance again.
Chapter Two

I waited eagerly for the night to come. A daze overtook me during the day and caused me to stare at nothing as I remembered the feel of Emilee's soft touch. Her perfume stuck in my nose, and her laugh played over and over in my head. When the suns last rays slowly faded from the sky, I practically ran down the magical path which led from The Glen. I felt the edges of several mortal dreams tug at my consciousness, all of them much more promising than what I saw during my perusal the night before, but they were all pushed aside. I wanted a whole night with Emilee again.

As I approached the line of thinning trees at the edge of the forest, I closed my eyes and reached out with my mind to feel for her. I fervently hoped she wasn't one of those people who stayed up until midnight, and I was happy when I found her almost immediately, already sweetly dreaming. I relaxed and slowed my breathing as I carefully merged with her mind and found her dancing in the ballroom again.

Tonight she wore a Spanish style red and black ballet dress. There was a normal skirt that reached to her knees in place of a tutu, swaying perfectly with her long legs. She wore red pointe shoes, and her hair hung curled and free as the night before.

She is so beautiful. I smiled at my sudden thought. Normally, I only favored my own species with that description, but it was true—she looked divine. I couldn't remember a time I'd seen anyone, human or Fae, look like this. I wanted to touch her again and feel the fire, which had rapidly spread between us. I altered my own appearance to match her chosen apparel, wearing pretty much the same thing as the night before, and stepped out into the light once more.

Emilee continued dancing with the fast pace of the music as if nothing had happened. She turned more towards me—concentration etched into her perfect features—but still did not give any sign that she saw me there. A crushing wave of defeat slammed into me.

Can she no longer see me? It seemed like a cruel punishment my mother would inflict upon me. I had been granted one amazing night with the only woman I'd ever wanted to spend an indefinite amount of time with. Curling my hands into fists, I turned to leave. I needed to punch something.

I couldn't understand what was happening. Why did I feel this way? Why was I so upset that one mortal couldn't see me when none of them were supposed to in the first place? The threads that held our minds together began to slip away, and I wished I could jump right out, but I didn't want to cause her unnecessary pain or to wake up because I was careless. Each piece of her that separated from me left invisible scars of pain.

"Raith?"

Every thread snapped into place, the ground shook, and my breath was knocked away. I was in trouble and I knew it. I should not have felt the way I did when she said my name.

"I'm here," I said coming into the light. She looked a little dazed. Guilt seeped into me as I realized I'd come back in too fast for her. Doing so agitated her subconscious and made it hard for her to focus. "Uh . . . I thought you hadn't seen me, and I didn't want to interrupt," I somewhat lied as I gave her time to gather herself. Finally, she shook her head and smiled sweetly, making my insides churn.

"I almost didn't see you," she admitted.

"Oh." She was all I thought about and instead of feeling the same, she seemed to have forgotten me. Great. Calm down. It's no big deal. Besides, she doesn't even know that you're real, I reasoned.

"I was caught up in my dance," she explained after an awkward pause. An apologetic grin spread across her face and she shrugged, running her fingers through her hair.

"You . . . I mean . . . it . . . was very beautiful." Nice, apparently we're working the embarrassing stalker angle tonight. There was another long silence growing between us, and all I could think of was how her skirt was hugging her hips. I realized I was staring with my mouth slightly open. Snapping it shut, my face burned as I looked at the ceiling, floor, mirrors, and anywhere else that wasn't her.

"Nice place, right?" No. No, no, no, no, no, I did not just say that! Everything was going wrong! Of course I hadn't really planned anything for the night—just dancing. Maybe I should have planned what to say too. An idea struck me, and I breathed in some courage—I hoped.

"Nice weather we're having. How about that sports team? Did you know plants use photosynthesis to survive? I really don't know what else to say, so let's dance now, okay?" I said the last part so fast it took her by surprise. Without giving her time to think, I quickly closed the space between us and grabbed her hand. There was a flash of shocked silence, and then she began to laugh loudly.

"I see what you did there." She placed her other hand on my shoulder.

"I know. Now, if I could just get some music, we'd be over our awkwardness and into the fun stuff." She shrugged her shoulders a little, a smile still gracing her face. I looked into her eyes, the light in them causing me to grin as well. I wanted desperately to touch her face, and discover if it felt smooth like her dress did against my hand. Her cheeks sparkled slightly. Whatever makeup she wore was perfect for the room's lighting. She returned my gaze, a look of amusement and study on her face.

"Raith?" she said softly after a few moments.

"Yeah?" Even her voice was beautiful. There must be girls dying to be her everywhere she goes.

"The music started like two minutes ago."

Oops. And the stalker returns.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I blushed deeply.

"It's ok." She laughed. "Now, let's dance!"

That was all the prompting I needed. I had some experience with lifts and special movements from rituals, which I'd been a part of. The Fae were big on dancing; me, not so much—'til now anyway. The music was going, so we just started on the next downbeat.

The tune was a tango, played on the guitar. I was eager to show off my moves. I'd felt a little under qualified the night before. I pulled her closer as we got going, reveling in the feel of her whole body against mine. She was warm, soft, and still so strong in the way she danced. Every step was precise and I made sure not to miss any. I felt a rush with every count, every touch. My body begged to bring her closer and hold her tighter. The fire her touch created was burning out of control. It felt like I would burst from the flames inside me. My breath was coming in short gasps, thankfully covered by the intensity of the dance.

I felt a natural place to throw in a lift and surprised even myself by actually doing it. The smile on her face made it worth the bravery it had taken. Her face was just centimeters from mine—I could feel her hot breath on my lips, and I almost kissed her. But then the moment was over and I placed her on the ground, dancing like nothing had happened. If only she knew what she was doing to me.

The dance lasted only a few minutes, but it felt like hours when I held her in my arms. The same was true with the following dances. Each felt like it would never end, and I didn't want them to. After several more dances—so many I didn't even care to count any more—I knew the night would be over before I was ready.

Please don't let it stop! I desperately wished away the morning as we were finishing yet another dance. This one had more of a classical ballet feel to it. She had somehow gotten her foot above her head in a side split and my hand was at the ankle suspended in the air. Even her foot felt like heaven. I wanted to hold her, touch her skin, and kiss her. I wanted to kiss her badly. The music ended and she returned her foot to the ground. She fell into my arms breathless, her back against my chest.

"Raith, you liar!" She teased "You most certainly do know how to dance."

My heart pounded from both the dance and her presence. It felt so natural, being with her. I didn't move my arms from around her, instead resting them around her waist. She didn't seem to mind the embrace, and it sent tingles up my arms.

"You're right," I said softly. "I didn't exactly lie though. I didn't think I remembered how." I slowly lowered my head to smell her hair. I wanted more of her—I needed it for some reason. She was my air, and I would die without it.

"Well, I'm glad you did," she said decisively. She covered one of my hands with her own, and laid her head on my shoulder.

I felt like shivering as she traced her fingers over my wrist. Little flames erupted where she touched—everything in me screaming for more. It was all I could do to just stand there. Her hand trailed up my arm, and into my hair, twisting it ever so slightly between her fingers. I felt like I might explode if I didn't touch more of her, so I allowed myself to actually bury my face in her hair. It felt perfect against my face and was entirely evil for making me want even more of her.

"You were awesome tonight, Raith," she said softly

"Yeah, I have some moves, so what?" I joked, my voice muffled by the curly locks that I was unwilling to move from just yet.

"You definitely do, and you're funny. I like that." She giggled and snuggled deeper into my arms, a content sigh escaping from her.

I felt like singing.

"Oh! Raith, look at us in the mirror!" she exclaimed.

I turned my head slightly to look at our reflection.

She was beautiful—her face flushed from the heat of dancing. I looked flushed as well, but together we looked like two lovers locked in a simple yet heartfelt embrace. The sight added to the fire that was already melting me from the inside.

Slowly, Emilee turned in my arms until we were facing each other. Every time she moved I would anticipate what she wanted. I knew what I wanted, but for the first time, I actually cared what someone else thought.

I swallowed the lump that had rapidly formed in my throat. Kiss her. I lifted a shaky hand to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear, and let my hand slide down her neck. I fought to keep from breathing like a dying man; I wanted to feel her lips so badly. Instead I chose to look into her eyes—eyes which never left mine—their honey glow not giving anything away. I leaned forward slowly, unsure of what I was about to do and how it would be received. I hesitated for a second, only one second.

Her mind began to pull away.

"No, stay." I whispered, but it was too late—she was fading too fast. The sun's morning rays greeted me as our minds completely divided from each other.

What is wrong with me? I lay in the grass and looked up at the lightening blue sky. If anyone were to find out . . . I plucked at the grass, placing a long strand in between my teeth. Find out what? I'm not really doing anything I haven't been doing before. I'm just . . . taking a new approach to how I bend the dreams . . . except that I'm not bending this one. I frowned a little in frustration. I still had no insights on why I couldn't control her dreams. Why does she do that to me? Why do I feel like I'm on fire every time we touch? I sat up slightly, leaning against my elbows. I shouldn't reappear in her dreams—it's too much of a risk. My heart hurt at that thought. There was no way I could stay away with the way she made me feel. Maybe I won't be able to find her tonight and I'll go scare people like I usually do. I knew that wasn't true either, I didn't want to scare anyone any more. My short time with Emilee had done something to me. I love showing up and wondering what she will say, what she'll be wearing. I love looking at her. I love feeling her in my arms. I love dancing with her. I love Emilee.

Yes, I was in a lot of trouble.

I couldn't concentrate on the dance that Emilee was performing when I arrived in her dream the next night. It wasn't because she was as beautiful as always. Her hair was pinned up in curly perfection, her form clothed in a simple white dress, with a yellow belt at her waist and matching shoes. It was because of my impulsive thoughts from that morning.

My mind battled with itself as I stood in the shadows. It was an unspoken law that Fae did not talk to humans except on Midsummer's Night. It wasn't very strictly enforced. I'd broken the rule on occasion, as well as other Fae, but this was different. Technically, I hadn't actually talked to Emilee. I had only entered into her dreams, danced with her, talked with her, laughed with her, fallen in love with her . . .

My impulsiveness had gotten me into trouble before, but nothing like this. I could laugh about the things I'd been in trouble for before—some of them I'd forgotten completely—but I knew I would never laugh about what was happening to me now with Emilee. I loved her, without even really knowing her, and I didn't know what to do about it. How do you confess your love to someone who will probably just think it was a dream? What if they never realize that it was as real as the air they breathe?

I can tell her the truth and hope she doesn't think I'm crazy. Emilee, I am a magical fairy man that makes people have nightmares, but instead I decided to fall in love with you in yours. Yeah, because that didn't sound like a dream at all.

I turned and slightly kicked the wall with the toe of my shoe in frustration. Folding my arms together, fists clenching tightly, I raised them, sandwiching my forearms between my forehead and the wall. I closed my eyes and tried to block out everything—my thoughts, my feelings, and anything else that would keep me from feeling sane.

Suddenly, there was a soft hand on my shoulder. Emilee said nothing and I stayed still because I didn't know what to say. I felt lost in that moment. My brain was telling me one thing—this was stupid and I was over reacting to something I probably wouldn't even remember in a few years—but my heart was telling a different story. I knew I wanted to be with her without thinking about consequences or the fact that I was immortal—but everything about her forced me to consider these things. After a few moments she withdrew her hand. I worried that I'd hurt her feelings, guilt urging me to look up, but she shifted again before I could.

My pulse quickened as her hands slid and clasped each other around my waist. She rested her head on my back and sighed deeply. I was sure she could hear the pounding of my heart and would feel the sweat that had formed everywhere. I swallowed hard and tried to breathe normally.

"What's the matter, Raith?" she asked softly, squeezing me a little tighter for a second.

And then I knew what to do.

I stood up straight and turned around slowly to face her, reveling in the feel of her arms. Her honey eyes were laced with concern as she searched for an answer to her question. I placed my hand on her cheek and she leaned into it, a small worried smile forming on her perfect face.

I felt a moment of panic, but I pushed it aside. I'd made up my mind and I wasn't going to let anything, not even myself, get in the way of what I wanted.

"Your hair looks lovely tonight." I smiled at her. Whatever she had been expecting me to say, that was not it. She glared at me and pursed her lips.

"That's not an answer to my question!" She scolded but did not release me from her embrace.

"Maybe I intend to make you wrestle the answer out of me," I laughed, loving that she was so concerned about what bothered me.

She thinks it's just a dream. I brushed my thoughts aside. I wanted her to take the bait I had laid for her.

"Wrestle it from you, huh? Why would you think I'd do something like that?" She looked at me curiously and I suddenly felt stupid for trying to get her to hold me closer. The cold slap of rejection stung my heart.

"I, uh," I lowered my hand from her face and tried to find an apology. I felt like a heel—like some stalker who had imagined the object of his desires had returned his affection. My head dropped in defeat. My eyes pricked strangely, and I just wanted to leave.

Then, suddenly, Emilee grabbed my hand and started twisting it. She's trying to wrestle you. It worked! I laughed as I realized what she was doing and she broke into her perfect smile. Weight lifted from me and everything felt right again. I wasn't about to go down without a fight though; I began to retaliate.

I was going easy on her at first, not wanting to hurt her, but it turned out she was pretty strong on her own. I wanted to move on to what I'd planned for after the match, so I threw my all into it, hoping to end it right then. I couldn't help the shocked laughter that burst out when Emilee matched my strength. It was unclear who was winning—we weren't really keeping score anyway—but we were having fun, our laughter mixing together and echoing off the walls of the empty dance hall. After a few moments, Emilee broke away from me and ran toward the other end of the room. I chased after her—feeling more alive than anytime during my whole existence—and caught her wrist in a few steps. She laughed and spun around like we were dancing only to discover she had backed herself up against the mirrored wall. She had nowhere else to go and she knew it.

We were both out of breath and chuckling when the moment suddenly changed from mirthful to serious. Her breath caught and a blush crept across her face as she looked into my eyes. I stepped closer to her, our bodies almost touching, and repositioned my hand from her captive wrist to her hand. I raised it gently to my mouth and kissed it softly. My mouth went dry as my heart pounded like I had just run a marathon. The familiar burn began to start on my lips and I wanted more. I wanted to kiss her with everything I had right then, but fear whispered in the recesses of my mind. I studied her face carefully, searching her eyes for any hint of resistance, and released her hand. Her unreadable gaze never left mine. We looked at each other for a moment without touching but close enough to feel the heat from our bodies mingle. And then Emilee slowly wrapped her arms around my waist again and I closed the distance between us.

My mouth was so dry I was sure she noticed how many times I'd swallowed by now. Don't mess it up, don't mess it up! I could feel my hands were ready to shake and I pushed the nervousness as far away as I could.

I wanted to kiss her right then, but she suddenly looked nervous and shy—her eyes flicking down and away from my face. My heart hurt from wanting to touch her face so I rubbed the back of my hand over her cheek. How I loved the blush that appeared there! It was warm, her face as soft as the silk she'd worn before. I could have stood there forever touching her face if I didn't need so much more from her. She still didn't look at me, though. Instead she chose to bite her lower lip. I have to do this right.

I placed both of my hands on her neck and slid them up into her hair, removing the pins that held it in place as I went. The smell of her shampoo hit me like a wall, calling my name over and over again. After every pin was gone and the lovely curls freed, I picked up a strand and took a deep breath. Fear reared its head again and my stomach tossed and turned while my hands gave in to the shaking. I leaned in farther and kissed the lock of hair wrapped in my fingers, letting it slide away as I did so. The silk strands whispered as they left my grasp, as if pleading for more. I looked down at her face to gauge if I was coming on too strong, but her eyes were closed. She looked as if she might faint, though her grasp remained firm. Keep breathing, I told myself. I caressed another strand of hair, kissing it softly as well.

She doesn't feel the same. I started to pull away from her, worried that I had ruined everything I held dear. Yet her grip on me tightened and she finally looked me in the eye. She smiled softly and my heart soared. A happy grin—one I was sure looked dorky—appeared on my own face. I wanted to tell her everything and confess the knots in my stomach and the anticipation in my lips, but I remained silent. My cheeks reddened slight as I caressed her face with my hands, tangled my fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, and leaned in closer once more.

Our lips met and my world exploded. Everything that seemed important to me before became nonsense. Any ties I'd had left their previous home and centered on her.

The fire—if the fire that came from holding Emilee in my arms had caused me to keep seeing her this many times then the fire from her kiss would hold me captive for eternity. She tasted better than anything I could ever remember or describe. Her lips were softer than downy feathers. I was feeling overwhelmed at all that was happening. I knew I loved her more than words could describe. I was prepared to give anything and everything up for her. My heart seemed to sputter and try to restart itself, making comprehension of the love I was feeling impossible.

I kissed her chastely and pulled away slightly to look at her. She was blushing. Suddenly, she giggled and pushed herself away from the wall, looking away and biting her lower lip.

"Stop that," I said, trying not to come on too strong. I wanted her close to me again.

"Stop what?" she asked, confused. She bit her bottom lip again. I couldn't handle it any more—I wanted more of those lips.

I stepped forward, crushing our bodies together and pressing her against the mirrors. Capturing her mouth once more, I ran my hands down her sides and lustily tugged her hips closer to me. I could feel the fire everywhere; it felt like I would explode all over again from touching her.

She matched my passion, and ran her fingers through my hair, giving me chills. We held each other as tightly as we could—I feared that I might float away from the bliss. I grabbed her back, touching any part of her that was acceptable, but still wanting so much more.

I kissed her that way until we were ragged and out of breath. When I finally let go and stepped away, my muscles ached.

She was even more beautiful! Her lips were swollen and red, her hair somewhat tangled from my hands running through it over and over again. She was looking at me with a smile, trying to catch her breath, as she leaned against the wall. I took a few more steps away from her, trying to cool down and relax I desired many more kisses and wasn't about to mess up my chances now. I could have lived in her embrace—my heart still raced from our encounter—and I already felt the need to kiss her again.

As we caught our breath, I straightened my crumpled shirt and vest, realizing she had been holding me as tightly as I had her. Emilee fixed her hair and ran her hands over her skirt to smooth it. I needed her in my arms again, but I didn't want her pushed too far either. I took a deep breath and bowed, offering my hand in a dance invitation—the only acceptable solution I could think of.

Emilee grinned and curtsied. Taking my hand and positioning herself in my arms, she was much closer than she had ever been before. She looked at me with shining eyes as if she'd never seen me, and my heart tightened. How will I ever be able to live without her? The other half of my soul was in my arms, and I never wanted to be without her again.

We danced until I felt her mind leaving mine and I swooped in for one last kiss, wishing she could stay with me longer. Already I counted the hours until night fall.
Chapter Three

When I entered Emilee's dream the next night, I was surprised to find the usual dance hall gone. If I hadn't been familiar with the feel of her subconscious, I would have thought I was in the wrong dream.

I was standing along a thinning line of trees, much like the one I stood in every night as I joined her dreams. The view here was much different from a sleepy little town though; it was a beautiful, white-sanded beach, met by the cool, blue waves of ocean water, which softly lapped along the shore. It was just after sunset and a soft glow hung in the air. There were fireflies gently floating on the breeze. It felt very peaceful and serene here, almost like there was a permanent blanket of calm touching everything I could see.

I smiled as my eyes fell on Emilee who wasn't dancing as she had been every other time I'd seen her. She was walking in the surf—her bare feet buried themselves in the sand with each step. The sundress she had on very closely matched the dancing dresses she previously wore. Its turquoise-blue color nicely complimented her tan skin and the damp skirt stuck to her legs. Her hair was down the way I liked it, swaying with the breeze and her movements. I was struck by how graceful she was, dancing or not.

I stayed where I was for a moment, choosing to be the silent observer. She managed to take my breath away every time I saw her. I hoped that would never end. I kind of loved the suddenness of it all—like I was in a whirlwind romance. I felt a rush whenever I was with her. My palms tingled, my heart raced, and I didn't know what my future held for me anymore. It was invigorating—an emotional high.

Still grinning, I walked out from the trees barefoot, jeans rolled up to my knees, with a plain black t-shirt. It had been a while since I'd been anywhere near a beach, and I found the change refreshing. I wondered why Emilee had decided not to dance tonight, what had prompted her to dream of this place instead. A sudden onslaught of nerves caused me to falter as I neared her—paranoid she would be upset over the previous night's events.

I decided to be brave and walked up right behind her in the surf, wrapped my arms around her waist and nuzzled my face into the hair at the nape of her neck. All of the addictive feelings rushed to the surface once again, restoring me to my high. She smelled wonderful, as always, and I felt like I would never be able to get enough of her.

"Good evening," I said softly before I slid away. She turned to smile at me and—in a familiar motion—ran her fingers through her hair.

"Raith," she smiled wider. "I was worried you wouldn't come tonight." She turned her whole body and threw her arms around me in a tight bear hug. I loved the feeling and laughed. I could hold her forever like that, but I also wanted to see her eyes and hear her voice. Everything she did felt good and I was constantly at war with myself over what I wanted to do with her.

"Why wouldn't I have come?" I asked curiously, opting for talking.

"Well, you've only come to see me when I'm at the dance hall," she explained, stepping away. "I didn't know if you'd be here on the beach tonight." I smiled softly at her, twisted my fingers into her hair, and leaned in closer.

"I promise I will always come to see you, no matter where you are," I whispered. She smiled and leaned in to meet my kiss.

It was better than I remembered—if that was even possible—her lips cool from being out in the night air. I gently tightened my fingers around her hair, pulled her closer, and deepened the kiss as she wrapped her arms tighter around my waist. The waves lapped our feet softly, making the moment more serene. I couldn't remember a time when I had been happier.

My hands released her hair as I eagerly stepped closer for more. I slid my left hand slowly onto her shoulder and then down to the small of her back. I brought her up against me, stopping the kiss only for a second to look into her wonderful eyes. An overpowering rush of love overcame me. As we stared at each other, I knew right then I wanted to tell her the truth—I never wanted to be without her, that I loved her more than I'd ever thought possible. I wanted to ask her if she'd be mine forever—to never leave me again—and hear her say she felt the same way about me.

I attacked her lips once again as we held each other tightly, our hot breath mingling together. Before I knew what was happening our tongues were wrapped around each other, adding a whole new level to the fire that raced through my veins.

I didn't want to stop. In desperation, I grabbed her by the waist and picked her up, guiding her legs around my waist. Somewhere in my mind there was a warning light going off, but I didn't care. All I could focus on was the need I felt. I clutched her to me like she would disappear at any moment—since that was an actual possibility. The anxiety was almost as strong as the fire.

I hadn't noticed the water rising when I arrived, or the waves becoming stronger around us. As I tenderly carried her out of the water, kissing her all the while, the sea suddenly plowed into us, knocking us over into the wet sand.

Emilee rolled out of my arms, simultaneously laughing and spitting sand out of her mouth. Her wet curls stuck to her face and her dress clung against her tightly. I lay in the surf for just a moment longer, catching my breath as I found my bearings. A disappointed twinge flip flopped uncomfortably in my stomach, but my brain was calm—the warning light finally switched off. The next wave started rolling in and we both scrambled up the beach to safety.

As usual, Emilee's laughter was contagious and soon we were both on the dry sand, cuddled in each other's arms, giggling and staring up into the night sky, which unfolded above us. I felt like a silly little boy.

A boy in love, I thought and smiled to myself.

"This place is beautiful," I said, talking more about her than I was willing to admit out loud. My eyes drank her in as I spoke. "Where are we exactly?"

"Just somewhere I saw in a picture once," she explained. "I haven't been many places. I've always wanted to see the world, but I don't know if it will ever happen." She frowned and looked away down the length of the beach. I didn't know exactly what to say so we stayed in an awkward silence for a while. I wanted to get down on one knee and swear I would take her to see anything and everything she wanted, but I knew that would seem odd. Instead, I chose to say nothing. All I could think of was to keep cuddling.

"Raith," she suddenly started, and turned to look at me. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," I replied immediately. "You can always ask me anything." I smiled down at her, and raised my free hand to play with the damp hair around her face. I would have bought the moon for her, if she'd asked me to. Maybe if she hadn't, as well.

"What are you?" she whispered, looking straight into my eyes. My throat tightened and it felt like I had a mouth full of cotton. Crap, crap, crap . . .

"What do you mean?" I stammered. My heart started racing. What do I tell her? Do I lie? I didn't want to be dishonest with her. In my mind I felt like we were in an exclusive relationship. I winced a little bit as I thought of how that might not be true, but I pushed that away as she spoke again.

"Raith, I know when I'm dreaming. I always have," she said. "I've always been able to do whatever I wanted in my dreams, but not with you." Her expression remained the same while she spoke, calmly and curiously. Her eyes penetrated mine with a burning focus. All I could do was look at her; I didn't know what to say. The stupid alarm light was going off again. When she didn't get an answer, she continued.

"I didn't bring you into my dreams, Raith. I'm sure of it. The only thing I can think of is that you're something—maybe something not human—that keeps coming to see me. Why is that? And what are you?" I closed my eyes to escape her gaze and focused on breathing. This is why my powers don't work on her. She knows how to control her dreams . . . very well apparently.

"I am . . . ," I began shakily. It felt like the rest of my life would be determined by the answer she sought. I was panicking—I knew she could tell I was—and I imagined she wasn't too impressed with me at that moment. I didn't know what to do, and then a miracle happened. I could feel her consciousness begin to fade away. Has it really been a whole night? Thank the gods! I smiled at her, and opened my eyes. I kissed her quickly, sweetly. Knowing I didn't have much time and feeling courageous, I began my answer again.

"I am your friend," I said truthfully. I softened my gaze and ran my hands into her hair. Be brave. You love her. Just tell her the truth!

"And I think I'm very much in love with you already." Emilee's eyes widened some and she smiled shyly. My heart was racing a million miles an hour as I waited for her reply, but then my miracle ended. She was gone before she had the chance to say anything in return.
Chapter Four

I didn't return to The Glen for the day like usual. I stayed in the woods, as close to my Emilee as I could, agonizing over what I had said. I felt incredibly stupid.

I'm your friend?! Why did I say that? If I'd been able to beat myself up I probably would have done it. I couldn't believe I'd told her I loved her either. What if she doesn't feel the same and now she'll want me to leave her alone? More than my physical desires were invested now. My heart wouldn't be able to take it if she asked me not to return. It was like she had enchanted me instead of the other way around, like every other time I'd entered someone's mind.

Should I not go back at all and save myself the heartache? I knew I would, though. There were a million questions and doubts running through my mind. I also knew that if she asked me to leave I would probably sit on the edge of the forest for the rest of forever and just wish to be with her.

Love was agonizingly and stupidly complicated.

It seemed like night would never come. When it finally did I refused to admit to myself how scared I was to return to Emilee. I felt like my world could fall apart at any moment. Her mind finally brushed lightly against my own and I took a deep breath—it was time to meet my fate.

We were in the dance hall once more. She was facing away from me, stretching in front of the mirrors, wearing a simple black dress. Her feet were bare, her hair in a ballerina bun. As usual, I changed my attire to match—black slacks, button up shirt, and bare feet.

She watched my reflection in the mirror as I walked in slowly and I held my breath. This is it! The rhythm of my heart pounded the words into my soul. She slowly stood and turned to face me, expressionless, her hand held out like the first night we met. I was confused; my heart didn't know whether to pound or stop dead in its tracks.

Somewhat deflated, I walked over and assumed a dancing form with her. Soft piano music began to play and our dance took motion. She didn't speak and I was too scared to even open my mouth and ask her anything.

"I had a bad day," she said softly after a few movements. I was caught off guard and remained silent—she wasn't starting with my confession from the night before. My heart tightened a little bit, as I wondered if it was my fault she was unhappy. After a few more moments of silence, she started again.

"I always like to come here and dance when I've had a bad day. I like coming when I haven't had bad days, but that's beside the point. Today was just a bad day. You know what I mean?" I managed to nod my head to avoid interrupting her—I felt she needed to say what was on her mind. It felt like something was crushing my chest as I listened to what she said next.

"My mother wanted me to take dance lessons," she started again, leaving me completely clueless as to where the conversation was going. I wondered if I was about to get told off or something. "She drove me to class every day, came to every recital, videotaped every little performance . . . She always told me I was the prettiest little dancer she'd ever seen," she laughed. Suddenly her eyes filled with tears and she stopped dancing all together and looked up into my eyes. "She got very sick," she whispered. "I was out of high school by then and there was no one but me to take care of her, so I stopped going to classes. She always said how much she wanted to see me dance again, that it made her so happy, but I never did. I was too worried about her." She swallowed hard, and looked down at the floor, her body beginning to tremble. A new type of dread filled me as I realized this conversation had absolutely nothing to do with me. I could barely hear her when she spoke again, her voice thick with emotion. "She died today."

My heart broke for her, and I shared in the agony, which was displayed plainly before me. "Oh Emilee," I said sorrowfully. I drew her into my embrace as she began to sob. She held on to me like I was the only thing she had left, crying into my chest. It occurred to me I might actually be the last thing she had left. Eventually, we moved to the edge of the room where we sat up against the wall. The rest of the night was spent in silence as we held each other and Emilee cried. I wanted to say something, anything, that would help her, but I didn't know what words to use. I felt helpless as I cradled her against me, her tears soaking my shirt. When her mind began to pull away from mine I knew she was no more rested than when she went to sleep.

Emilee looked worn out the next night—in the same outfit with dark circles under her eyes. She sat next to the same wall with her eyes closed. I felt the shattering in my chest again.

I came prepared though. It occurred to me the night before that I knew next to nothing about her other than she loved dancing, wanted to see the world, her father was gone, and her mother had died the day before. Tonight I would try and help her forget the latter, if only for a little while.

I walked to her and sat down, wrapping my arms around her as she cuddled up against me. As soon as we were comfortable I launched right into my plan.

"Emilee," I began, "What was your favorite thing to do as a child? . . . other than dance that is." I waited patiently for her reply, knowing I'd caught her off guard. I desperately wanted my plan to work. After a few moments she finally responded.

"I liked to play on the swing set in our back yard. I would imagine I could fly." She looked up and smiled at me weakly while she answered. I smiled as well, knowing that distracting her was a good idea.

"And why would you imagine flying?" I asked curiously.

"Every kid imagines they can fly, Raith. I preferred a swing over jumping off the roof like other kids." I laughed at her comment and she giggled a little in reply, giving me confidence to continue.

"What else did you like to do?" All night I question her about everything I could think of, helping her to think of anything but her reality of sorrow. I learned that she had been an honors student all through school, loved the color blue, and liked to spend her afternoons reading. Her favorite thing to eat was a good cheeseburger and fries, and she worked at the library but she really wanted to teach dance for a living.

We laughed over her memory of being so excited to go to her first midnight movie with her friends when she was in high school. She spent the whole time running around and acting crazy. When the movie finally started, she was so tired from all of her excitement that she fell asleep five minutes after it started.

Each new thing I learned made me love her more. I wished I could spend every moment with her and see the things from her waking world. I wanted her forever, no matter what happened. I felt sick as cold reality slapped me in the face again; this was not real. It was a dream. I would not be able to keep her forever. Someday she would die, and I would still be stuck here . . . without her. All I would have left were my memories of us—memories that happened in a world that didn't really exist.

I pushed my own fears and doubts away. Tonight is for Emilee, not for me.

I could tell she felt better by the time she began to wake up. It lifted a weight off of me, and I hoped her good feelings would last throughout the day. "Thank you, Raith," she said seriously as our minds began to untangle themselves. "Thank you very, very much." She kissed me on the cheek as she faded the rest of the way out.

A feeling of accomplishment surrounded me, and I felt good about ending the night right there. I had never been so happy to help someone in my life.

The next night followed the same basic pattern. We sat on the floor and I picked through Emilee's brain, but I was running out of things to ask her and I could sense she still needed more of a distraction than just dancing would bring.

"Raith," she said after a lull in our conversation, "Will you tell me about you now? I think I've told you just about everything there is to know about me." She smiled at me sweetly, waiting patiently for a reply. I already decided beforehand that I would tell her the truth if she asked for it again. It still scared me to death to tell her, though.

"What do you want to know?" I asked her, not sure where to start.

"You're not human," she stated calmly, sure of herself.

"What makes you think that?" I asked curiously, trying to buy time to calm my nerves.

"I don't know very many humans who can magically enter someone's dreams every night."

I chuckled and held her tighter, nuzzling my nose into her hair. "Well you're right. I'm not a human being, not technically anyway." Emilee looked up at me, eyebrows raised.

"Technically?"

"Well, according to our history or legends, whatever you want to call them," I began, "the very first of my kind were humans. They were all brother and sister too." I loved the way she looked at me with supreme interest. I twisted my fingers into her hair at my favorite spot—the nape of her neck—and slowly trailed them through the soft strands until my fingers became free. I continued the movement absentmindedly, not realizing I had stopped talking until Emilee spoke.

"And?" She looked at me with wide eyes, waiting to hear the rest of the story. "How did they become . . . whatever it is you are?" She laughed a little as she said the last part, obviously unaware of what I was. I wasn't surprised, of all the human concepts detailing how Fae came to be, the truth is the least known.

"Well," I began again, adding an air of mystery to my voice, "it was their mother's fault really. You see, her husband died and she was terrified the gods were going to take her children from her also. So, she hid them in the forest to keep them safe—from being stolen away. However, the gods, knowing and seeing all, were enraged at her attempt to fool them. When the mother went to find her children, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't locate them. The gods had cursed them to be a hidden people." Emilee's eyes widened and she smiled knowingly.

"Fairies," she whispered, biting her lip the way I liked. I laughed, moving my hand from her hair to stroke the side of her face. Pretty and smart.

"Yes, fairies is what the general human term has become. We call ourselves Fae though," I informed her. "Do I look like some girly fairy to you?" I demanded jokingly, releasing her and making a show of flexing my muscles. She laughed as I hoped she would and then gently touched my arm.

"No, you don't," she started, "But is this what you really look like all the time? Can't fairies, I mean Fae, use glamour?" She seemed to realize that her hand was still on my flexed arm and blushed, pulling it away quickly. I chuckled and pulled her into my embrace, cradling her head on my shoulder and holding her tightly.

"My eyes are normally red," I said truthfully, "And my ears are usually quite a bit pointier. Glamour can only make me taller or shorter, not change my appearance." I smiled at her as she turned her face up to look at me. She still looked somewhat confused.

"Do you have wings?" She grimaced slightly, growing more embarrassed. "I'm sorry," she said hurriedly, "You don't have to answer if it's too personal. I'm not sure what's polite to ask you." She looked away apologetically.

"It's not rude," I laughed, "How else are you supposed to find out if you don't ask questions?"

"Well fine then!" she stated. "Do you have wings or not?" She pushed herself out of my arms, choosing instead to sit cross legged in front of me, smiling.

"I do not," I grinned. "It's actually very rare to come across a Fae with wings, and when you do, it's usually a person of great importance. Wings are a gift from the gods," I explained. "You have to do something supremely great to be gifted a pair."

"Have you ever met someone with them?" she asked curiously.

"I have," I began, but was interrupted by a brilliant idea. "I'll tell you about it later. Right now I have an idea, but I need to know if you trust me first."
Chapter Five

Emilee looked at me curiously. "What's your idea? You know I trust you already." She smiled sweetly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from my face. Her touch caused me to pause as I enjoyed the shivers she gave me. My eagerness to put my new idea into motion brought me back to the conversation quickly, though.

"It would involve me controlling your dream." I held my breath as her eyes widened with surprise. Please, trust me enough!

"Why would you want to do that?"

"I'll explain after. If you'll let me do it, that is."

She gazed at me evenly, studying my face. She seemed to be contemplating my proposal very seriously. I knew she would love what I had in mind, mostly because I loved it. I hoped she would agree to let me take control. It would be hard for her to relinquish the power though, and I knew she would guard herself carefully. There was just something about her that said she needed that dominion. After a few moments, she answered.

"I don't know how to let you take control. Is there a certain way to do it?" Her voice sounded a little shaky. I knew she had just given up something huge for me, and I wanted to show her my thanks by making it worth her while. My heart hummed, as an idiotic grin overtook my face.

"I'm not sure. I tried to control your dream the first night we met but you stopped me somehow. Do you remember doing anything to fight me?" She gave me a look that was half scolding, half curious. I grimaced a little when I realized what I had revealed to her, but I was too excited to care.

"No, I don't remember doing anything different from what I always do."

This was becoming harder than I thought it would be. I ran my hands through my hair and pursed my lips. "Well," I started, "How about we just try it and see if it works? Maybe if you're aware you're going to give up control, I'll be able to take over easier."

Emilee nodded and smiled, but I didn't miss the look of fear that danced through her eyes.

"Hey," I said softly, hugging her tighter and placing a kiss on her forehead. "Don't be scared. I promise I'm not going to let anything happen to you." I smiled, moving my hands to tangle my fingers in her hair. "I love you. You'll like this idea." She nodded quickly, her face hidden in my shoulder, strengthening her grip on me.

"Go ahead and try then." Her voice was firm but muffled by my shirt.

"Close your eyes," I whispered into her ear. I tightened my grip as well, and began to remember one of my own memories. Nothing changed. Frustrated, I tried to reach out to the outer parts of Emilee's mind, feeling for a break somewhere. Her defenses were like iron and just as I was about to give up and think of another way to take control, I found the tiniest of cracks in her self control.

Gently, I pushed at the weak spot until I made my way completely through it. I was hit by a wall of emotions I never realized she'd been holding from me. I could feel her timid fear at what was happening, the pain she still felt over the loss of her mother—and love. Suddenly, I realized the love was for me. It was overwhelming, strong, and true. I felt my own heart warm in the revelation that she loved me.

Curious, I opened my own mind a little and released some of my own emotions, mostly my love for her. She softly gasped as she felt what I did, and her grip became even tighter as the foreign feelings invaded her. The wave of shock eventually subsided and all we were left with was love. It felt wonderful, our feelings plainly displayed.

"Are you ready?" I asked, my excitement finally overtaking my feelings.

"That wasn't it?" She giggled as my feelings pushed against hers.

"Not even close," I laughed.

"Okay, I'm ready then."

"Keep your eyes closed," I reminded, even though she'd never opened them. I closed my own as well, and took a deep breath.

Slowly, I began to weave one of my memories into existence. When I was finished, I opened my eyes to survey my handiwork.

The green hills of Scotland formed around us, the blue sky stretching as far as I could see—not a single cloud marred its appearance. A gentle stream trickled through the grasses. Even the slight breeze was exactly as I remembered it.

When I was finally satisfied I had remembered everything correctly, I had Emilee open her eyes. Her smile was contagious.

"Where are we?" She stepped out of my embrace and bent down to touch the grass, laughing.

"Scotland," I chuckled. "I spent a summer here once, long ago. The Fae held rituals in these hills."

"What kind of rituals?" She questioned further.

"The kind that are either too embarrassing to remember or too complicated to explain," I laughed again.

"I've read stories of people being enchanted by fairies and led away," she said as she twirled around, her arms outstretched. "Is that what you did? You led young girls away to their doom?" She giggled as she waited for my answer.

"Not exactly. We always made sure they made it home safely," I said uncomfortably. My reply caused her to stop her twirling.

"Oh," she said apologetically.

"Eh, it's no big deal." I laughed away the uncomfortable feelings. I didn't seem to care about my past endeavors at that moment. "That's not why we're here, anyway."

Emilee looked at me, eyebrows raised and smiled slightly. "Oh? And why are we here then?" she teased.

"To dance—why else?" I held my hand out to her and remembered the music of Scottish bagpipes. As the sound filled the air around us, and Emilee took my hand. She surprised me when she began the traditional dance that went along with the song.

We danced joyously until there was no music I could remember. It felt like we'd been together for mere minutes, although, I was sure that hours had passed. With a breathless gesture, we flopped down onto the grass, finding our way into each other's arms, and gazed up into the blue sky. I was thinking of what to say next, when Emilee beat me to the punch.

"What's the worst thing you've ever done?" she giggled.

"Wow, what a question!" I laughed. I pondered for a moment longer and then answered.

"I had this friend, Michael and we did so much stuff together," I laughed. "We were actually responsible for a lot of things humans can't explain."

"Like what?" she asked excitedly.

"Michael had power that made him able to cloak a person's appearance for a limited amount of time. We weren't very responsible with it," I chuckled, remembering all of the trouble we'd gotten ourselves into.

"The first thing we ever did with it was invent the Loc Ness Monster. He disguised me as this giant water creature and I swam around in the lake for a little while. Everyone started freaking out about it and eventually—when the Mother figured out what we'd done—we got in a lot of trouble for it."

Emilee was laughing, sparkles gleaming in her gaze.

"What else have you done, oh great prankster?" She said in a mocking tone, bowing her head in reverence for added effect. "Is Bigfoot your creation as well?"

"Well," I said, getting slightly embarrassed.

"No way!" she snorted. "You did that too?"

"Actually, that one was all Michael, although we both got in a lot of trouble for it—mostly because we had been making fun of how a certain Fae walks. Turns out, he was high on the important person list and had just been keeping it to himself." It had been a while since Michael and I had been into mischief together. We were separated by the Mother when she'd had enough of our excursions.

"So you've always been a jokester. What an interesting and new side to you!"

She was making fun of me but I didn't mind. I loved her laugh and the way we were able to talk so freely with each other.

We laughed together a little bit longer, and then fell silent as we took in our surroundings once more.

"This place is beautiful. I can see why your kind would come here to perform their sacred rituals." I could see the sky reflected in Emilee's eyes. Her hair lay perfectly around her head—like a crown—and in that moment I wished again we would never have to be apart.

I could feel her mind starting to slowly slip away and I began to ready myself for the imminent separation. I felt . . . surprisingly good for telling her my secret and sharing part of myself with her. She knew everything now, and it didn't seem to matter to her. She hadn't asked me to leave, and that was all the invitation I needed to keep returning.

Emilee suddenly looked me right in the eye and said, "Raith, do you really love me?" I was caught off guard by the sudden change in topic and quickly stammered out my consent. My heart went from a normal rate to that of a race horse in a second and my mouth went dry. I'd almost forgotten I'd told her that during all of my questioning. Her gaze softened and—fighting to remain asleep—she leaned in slowly and kissed my lips.

The fire returned like it had never been gone, filling me with desire and longing. I reached out for her, pulling her onto my lap with her legs around my waist. I grasped her as she held my face in her hands, kissing me with renewed heat. I nipped her lower lip with my teeth and she sighed softly, holding me tighter.

She began to fade away faster, no longer able to keep herself asleep. She broke away to look at me one last time before she was gone completely. As our minds slid delicately apart and I could no longer see her, I heard her voice like a whisper on the wind.

"I love you, too."
Chapter Six

It felt like paradise.

I didn't go home to The Glen again, I was beginning to prefer sitting in the woods, staying as close to Emilee as I could be. I didn't care if anyone missed me.

She loves me, she really said it! I grinned like a fool as I thought of her warm lips on mine and imagined the kisses in our future. The thought of having to wait all day to see her again was driving me insane.

How insane will I feel when she's gone? I grimaced at the thought—it had been bothering me whenever I was alone now. The truth was, we hadn't ever really been together, and I hated it. It hurt knowing everything that happened was just a dream.

What if we just run away together? We could live together in secret somewhere, forever. Until she dies. I stopped that train of thought. The ending was unacceptable to me. I considered several other options, but they all ended the same way. I couldn't take it anymore.

Emilee was looking at herself in the mirrors when I eagerly entered her dream. She was trying to do something with her hair, a look of discontent on her face, and she was as lovely as always. She dropped her hands to her side, blushing furiously when she realized I had arrived and was watching. I smiled.

I let my eyes travel down her body hungrily, noting her blush deepen as I took in her tight blue t-shirt, white cotton skirt, and white heels. I didn't think it was possible for her to look bad, ever.

"Hi," she said shyly, clasping her hands in front of her. She smiled slightly, biting her lower lip as she did so.

"Hello, yourself." I responded with my own smile, walking towards her. "Did you know," I said when I finally reached her pulling her into my arms and brushing the hair from her face, "I love it when you bite your lip like that. It just about drives me mad!" I raised my hand as I spoke and brushed my thumb over her bottom lip. She closed her eyes and sighed, leaning into me as I wrapped my arms around her waist. We fit together perfectly, and I loved that too. I just plain loved everything that had to do with Emilee.

I tightened my hold on her hips and crushed her to me, my mouth finding hers instantly. She opened her mouth and I licked her bottom lip tenderly, moving one of my hands from her hips and up to her face. I pulled gently away from her, smiling as I caressed her cheek and then rested my palm on her neck. She leaned in for more kisses, but I teased her by coming just close enough to feel the heat of our breath mingling. I laughed as she moaned in frustration and finally gave in to her.

The need for more grew as we kissed, tasting each other's lips again and again. I sucked on her lower lip as she slid her hands under my black t-shirt and rested them on my stomach, her fingers fanning over my abs. I moaned as she grabbed my sides and yanked me closer, deepening our kiss and locking her fingers together with her arms encircling my body. It was like an animal instinct was starting to overtake us.

I broke away from her mouth and nuzzled my face into the crook of her neck, tipping her head to the side. I bit her softly there and felt her grip on me tighten. Slowly, I trailed bites up her neck until I reached her ear. I let my teeth graze the lobe before I sucked on it as Emilee kissed my shoulder.

My hands slid down her sides, to her waist, and I pushed her up against the wall. As I did so, she kicked off her heels and jumped up, wrapping her legs around me as she had for some of our other kisses. Her hands twisted into my hair as I held her tightly, kissing her collarbone. I slid my hand up under her skirt, onto her thigh, and suddenly found myself being pushed away as she slid her legs down to the floor. Disappointment filled me as much as I didn't want it to.

"Wow," she said, trying to catch her breath. She reached her hand up to caress my face and I leaned into it, still wanting her touch.

"Why did you stop me?" I had her sandwiched between myself and the wall, and was tempted to start kissing her again.

She smiled softly as she answered. "We were starting to lose ourselves to something I'm not ready to fall into yet," she explained. "I didn't want to stop, trust me!" She looked somewhat frazzled, and the blush returned to her face as she continued. "I want to . . . not stop. You know what I mean? I just want it . . . I want it to be real. That's not something I want to happen here. I want it to be real."

"I understand," I replied, as she looked away embarrassed and dropped her hand from my face. "This is real though," I pressed. "I'm really here."

"I know that," she countered. "I meant real as in . . . not in a dream."

"Oh."

She stared at me hopefully, waiting for me to continue. "Is that a possibility?" She looked worried at my lack of response, her eyes starting to show signs of sadness. I smiled warmly at her to try and calm her fears. I honestly didn't know if we would ever have the chance to be together like that.

"Maybe," I answered. "We'll talk about it later, okay? I'm trying to come up with something." She smiled at that and wrapped her arms around my waist, making our embrace more casual. I breathed a small sigh of relief. I hadn't wanted to get into things that might make her sad.

"Emilee . . . you would tell me if you were ever going to go away, right? I mean, if you moved or something, you'd let me know so we could still be together?" I didn't look at her, waiting for her answer. I was sure that if I'd been mortal, I'd have knocked years off my life with all the extra pounding my heart was doing.

"As long as you want to be with me, you'll always know where I am," she answered. My heart calmed a little.

"Forever?" I turned to look at her, grasping her hand tightly in mine.

"Forever."

I took Emilee to see the world in her dreams, just like I'd wanted. By sharing my memories with her I realized what I had been missing in my own life; I didn't want to be without her ever again. Each night brought more happiness to me, but the knowledge that I was immortal and she would someday die, ate away at me more and more every passing day.

I was looking for a way to remedy our situation, but the answers were not being found easily. Frustration was setting in.

The next night, with Emilee's permission, I took her to visit one of my memories in England—to an old country dance. I remembered with perfect clarity all the people that had been in attendance as well—delighting her with the surprise of fellow dancers to sweep across the floor with. Of course she could only dance with me, since everyone else already had a partner, but she didn't mind. We only wanted to dance with each other anyway.

Once we were done with our dancing for the evening, I took Emilee outside to see the moon—it had been the reason I remembered the event so clearly. I also loved to show her the world she'd always wanted to see. It was something I could do for her that she hadn't been able to do herself.

There had been a beautiful Rose Moon that night, causing the tiny village to throw a dance celebrating the bountiful strawberry season they were experiencing. As we walked under the full orb, I took the opportunity to teach Emilee more about the Fae and their enjoyment of dances—how it was unlikely for the more rebellious of us to miss one being held in an area close by.

"And the people never knew? You were all there dancing with them and they didn't even know it?" She looked at me with a surprised expression on her face.

"Oh, some of them knew," I laughed. "They just didn't want to say anything. A lot of the time we, the Fae that is, would cast spells on the humans so they wouldn't notice. Those who did were inclined to drink more because they were nervous and then they would think they imagined the whole thing."

"So you can use magic other than glamour?" she questioned.

"Sort of. Humans tend to listen to what we say. We have the magic of . . . persuasion I think is what you would call it," I laughed. "We do use some magic to get around though. There are other kinds of beings that are heavy magic users, but Fae don't really bump into them very often—we like to keep to our respective kinds."

"Interesting," she replied. "Have you ever met one? That reminds me too. You were going to tell me about the Fae who has wings," she added on.

"No, I haven't ever met one," I laughed. "And the winged Fae I know is actually the Mother of our Glen."

"Glen?" she asked, confused.

"That's where I live, The Glen. It's kind of like a Fae town. Each one covers a wide area—I think there's only two allowed on each continent. That's all there is right now anyway. Each one has magical paths that lead out of it—created long before I was born—by the real magic users; they have been known to help those not of their kind for the right price, if they feel so inclined."

"Oh, I see." She contemplated this information for a moment as we continued our walk under the moon. "So what did your Mother do to get her wings?" she continued, after she'd absorbed the information I'd presented.

"She is one of the original Fae and was granted her wings as a peace offering from the Gods that took her from her mother. I believe she did something noteworthy as well, but I'm a little rusty on my history," I joked. "In spite of all the punishments she's given me, she is a wonderful woman. She can be scary at times, if you've rubbed her the wrong way. She's a good leader. She always puts the safety of her people before anything else."

We continued on in silence until we came to the doors of the dance hall. I was better at sensing when Emilee was beginning to wake since I was the one in control, and I began to notice the familiar signs of our time together coming to an end.

I gathered her into my arms and gently brushed the tips of my fingers over her cheek, smiling softly as I did so. I leaned in slowly—savoring the scent of her hair—and brushed my lips back and forth over hers lightly. It was a sweet kiss, still fire inducing, but I knew I didn't have enough time to kiss her thoroughly before she would wake. Instead, I simply held her in my arms with her head resting on my shoulder until she faded away completely.

Beautiful strains of music flitted through the air around us the next night. I hadn't created this memory to dance though; for a change of pace, I reached into my past and extracted a night at the opera for us to enjoy. Fae have always loved music and they use it in every ritual, but it was different for me. I liked the story the songs told. They didn't always have to be about the good, rule-following people—sometimes they were about rebellion and being who you wanted to be. I was rebellious to the ways of my people, but I kept a place inside myself for music, even if I hadn't enjoyed it as often as I liked. Opera had always been romantic to me, and I hoped Emilee would feel the same.

Emilee and I sat in our own private box, hands clasped and dressed for the occasion. She was so beautiful—she always was—but tonight she looked radiant. It didn't have anything to do with the deep-red gown she wore or the way her curls were pinned up. She was beautiful as a person, and tonight her inner beauty was complimenting her outer.

I was especially enjoying myself—the opera was one of my favorite forms of art and it had been a long time since I'd been to one. Emilee seemed to be enjoying herself as well, taking in everything as fast as she could, her perfect smile slightly glowing in the lights from the stage.

She leaned slightly towards me, and whispered, "This is beautiful! What are they saying now?" Her eyes never left the stage, her enchantment with the show apparent.

"The hero is declaring his love for the heroine," I explained.

"How do you know?" she asked in wonder. "Do you speak Italian?"

"Maybe," I laughed. "I have seen his show before too, you know. And the translation is in the program," I chuckled.

She looked at me affectionately and then returned her attention to the show. I softly hummed along with the song, switching to the actual words halfway through the melody. I could see Emilee's smile widening as I sang, but she continued watching the stage. I scooted myself closer to her, gripping her hand tighter, until I was whispering the serenade right into her ear.

As the couple on stage shared a kiss, I leaned in and kissed her neck, nipping her skin softly. She gently leaned into me, and I could hear her sigh contently. I moved down to her shoulder and licked the delicious skin there. I untangled our hands and wrapped my arms around her slender waist. She finally turned from the show and granted me the kisses I had been waiting for.

The music flowed around us as we kissed each other for the rest of the night. Each note was a new memory that became etched into my mind. It was hard to keep things chaste, but somehow we managed.
Chapter Seven

We were in her dance hall, and I was trying to decide where to go, what memory to visit that night. Emilee looked sad; she wasn't saying anything and didn't seem too interested in where we would be going.

"What's the matter?" I asked softly. "We don't have to go anywhere tonight, we cou . . ."

"No, it's not that," she broke in. Her head drooped and tears fell to the floor. I gathered her into my arms, remaining silent. She'll tell me when she's ready.

"My mom's funeral was today." Understanding filled me. The mother-daughter chapters of her life were over. She must feel so alone. There's no one left for her here. I wish I could stay with her every moment, to see her beautiful face and be there for her.

"What can I do to help you through this?" I didn't like to see her sad, even if she had a right to be. "Tell me what you need and I'll do it." She still didn't answer so I scoured my brain for something.

"Let's dance, and you can tell me about your mom." I held my hand out as I spoke. Slowly, she nodded and we assumed a dancing position.

"She was the most wonderful woman I ever knew," she said through her tears. "My biggest supporter, my toughest fighter. If I wanted to do something, she was the first person to tell me that I could."

"She sounds wonderful," I replied. "Tell me more."

For the next few hours, Emilee shared all of her favorite memories of her mother with me. As I listened, I wished that I could have met her. There was no doubt in my mind that Emilee's strength and passion had come from her. The memories brought smiles to Emilee's face as well, brightening her mood and leaving me with a feeling of satisfaction. We took a short break to catch our breath, and I found myself lost in her features once more. She seemed magical in the way she looked,

"Raith?" she questioned. Stepping closer, she caressed my face. "What are you thinking about?"

I smiled and took her hand from my cheek, grasping it tightly as I brought it to our sides. "I was thinking about how beautiful you are," I said truthfully. "You look like you could dance all night and still command any magic you wanted in the morning."

. . . She could command magic . . . The answer to my internal dilemma hit me like a lightning bolt.

"Emilee!" I exclaimed in excitement. "I can't believe I didn't think of this before!"

She looked at me, confused. "Think of what?"

"You said we would be together forever, right?" I was impatient and wanted to get right to the point, but I knew I should explain my thoughts and feelings first. When she nodded, I continued.

"I didn't know how we were really going to do that. All I could think about was how I'll live forever but you would be forced to leave me because you're a mortal. Just now I realized how we really can be together forever!" The conversation's sudden change of direction shocked her, but she still seemed to be following what I was saying.

"How, I mean . . . I don't understand," she frowned slightly. "How do you make a mortal immortal?"

My grin widened as she spoke. It all seemed so clear to me. "There is a way to do it," I laughed in relief. "Fae are immortal, but they aren't born that way. That's how we're able to grow and mature. When we reach the age of adulthood, our Glen mother works an old magic that makes us immortal. If she would do that to you . . . ,"

"Then we really could be together forever," she finished. She still seemed unsure of what I was proposing.

"Think about it Emilee," I pleaded. "There isn't anyone here for you anymore. I know that you're lonely and that you miss your mother. I would take care of you and show you the world for real—we could make new memories together!" I pulled her close and looked into her fearful eyes. "I love you," I said softly. "I want to be with you for the rest of my very long life."

She didn't say anything. She seemed to be thinking over what I'd said. When she still looked uncertain, I felt a panic come over me. She wasn't agreeing right away like I thought she would. There were no joyous exclamations, no hopping up and down. A pit formed in my stomach as I leaned in and kissed her softly. "The decision is yours though," I added somewhat sorrowfully. "I want you to be happy, mortal or not."

She still didn't speak—I could see the questions and the doubt in her expression, but the words wouldn't leave her mouth. She took a deep breath and finally spoke.

"This is a lot to ask me, Raith." She searched my eyes, a look of caution clouding her features. "Can I think about it for a little while before deciding?"

"Of course you can," I replied softly, somewhat downhearted. "I never want to push you into something you're not comfortable with." But I wanted her to say yes—I wanted her to jump at the opportunity. Her indecision felt like a rejection. My face stung as if it had been slapped.

"Thank you," she said softly. "Can we just stay here and dance some more tonight?" she added. I nodded my consent.

The rest of the night seemed very long and silent.

Two nights passed. I waited patiently for Emilee to give me her answer—or even ask a question. I waited as patiently as I could, anyway. I felt like I would explode if I didn't know what she was thinking—soon, so I finally brought it up again.

"Have you thought about . . . what we talked about?" We were dancing in her ballroom since she'd chosen not to go out into the world again. I could feel her resistance to the idea of me controlling her. In fact, she seemed distant ever since I asked her to join me. I worried I had pushed her too far with my request.

"Yes," she said hesitantly. "I'm confused about how it would happen?" She glanced up at my eyes, the uncertainty still present in hers.

"You would come with me, to The Glen, and the Mother would make you Fae. You'd never have to return again." She made a face at my answer and I faltered. "Unless you want to, of course. You just can't stay." Her facial expression made me regret even asking her to come with me.

I brushed my thumb over her cheek and smiled sadly. "You don't have to do it Emilee. I promise I will still be here—every night—until there are no more nights to share anymore. You don't need to be immortal for me." My chest hurt. I would give anything for her, even my own happiness if it came to that. It didn't make me feel any better though.

"It's not that," she said apologetically. "I just . . ." She turned and walked away from me, folding her arms and looking at the floor. "I don't know if I can do it." She turned to look at me with tears in her eyes, and her voice shook as she continued speaking. "I want to be with you forever—I really do—I just have my life here . . . I know my mom is gone, but I have friends here too. There are things I want to do with my life, things that won't be possible if I go through with this. I want to grow up and have a family—I want to look like a grandma when I am one. I'm so sorry, Raith." She sobbed then, her face in her hands, and I felt my heart breaking—convinced I was the most selfish being on the planet.

"I shouldn't have asked you to give up so much," I stated sorrowfully. "I was only thinking about me, not what was best for you." I reached out for her and she fell into my embrace, sobbing her apologies over and over again.

"You don't have to be sorry," I said, my voice catching. "I understand. I won't ever leave you—we'll still be together in your dreams."

"But we won't ever be able to be together for real now," she stated soberly, once her tears had ceased. "We will only meet in my dreams."

I knew that wasn't true. In my mind, I'd been saving that secret for last, a surprise to end all surprises. I knew I needed to tell her now though, to ease her pain—to ease my pain, too.

"Actually," I said softly. "I was waiting for your answer before I told you the rest."

She looked up at me in surprise, questions shining in her puffy eyes. "What do you mean?" I took a deep breath. My previous plans didn't really matter now. I didn't think she'd be mad if she knew what I wanted to do.

"Fae become human one night out of the year—I was going to take you to the Mother on that night. I didn't tell you before because, well, I thought you would want to change. I was hoping to surprise you with it."

"You're going to become human," she said, shocked. "When, how?"

"On Midsummer's Night. It's been a tradition since the beginning of Fae, I'm not exactly sure how—it just happens. As for the why, that's when we perform our rituals, the ones involving humans anyway. We have a masquerade ball in the Glen, humans are placed under our influence, and we have fun. Midsummer's Night is very magical, one of the times that witches have been known to mix with our kind." I smiled softly, sadly. I was still stuck on her answer. I didn't want to spend the rest of forever alone, without her.

"What type of rituals do you perform?" she asked cautiously. This was all supposed to happen differently—I didn't want her to find out like this.

"It depends on the Fae," I said hesitantly. "Some use love spells, others heal injuries. Some are just looking for an enchanted fling, to put it gently."

"And you wanted to take me to this?" She looked hurt. Suddenly, I understood her feelings.

"No! I mean, yes, I wanted to take you, but I wasn't going to put you under any kind of enchantment! You would be free to make your own choices—I would never take that away from you. I wouldn't force you to change so I could keep you." My heart hurt at the thought of her not trusting me. I didn't know how much more of a beating it could take tonight.

"Oh." She closed her eyes, a look of stress passing over her face.

"We could still go," I said hesitantly. "Just for fun—so you could see it. And we could finally be together for real," I added. "We can be together once a year, every year if you want." I hadn't even considered that as a possibility before, thinking that she would want to come with me and nothing else, but I was being selfish again, and needed a "yes" to something.

She opened her eyes and slowly brightened at that possibility. She studied my face for a while. Finally, she answered. "No enchantment?"

"I promise," I replied, releasing the breath I had been holding in anticipation.

"Okay," she smiled. "I'll go."

It was finally time.

The sun set and I was human once again, my features changed from their normal Fae appearance. I looked just like I did in Emilee's dreams, but it was odd to be awake and look like this. I knew it would be odd to see the other Fae looking human as well. A sense of euphoria I had never experienced during previous years began to form inside me.

Before I left The Glen I had dressed for the occasion in a suit much like the ones I'd worn in Emilee's dreams. It was a simple tux, black and white, with the tie missing and the top button open. I preferred a more relaxed look, knowing I wanted to be comfortable so I could enjoy my night.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped from the tree line and headed toward the town. Emilee had given me directions to her house through a mental picture so that I wouldn't get lost. My heart pounded harder with each step I took, the excitement building to a magnificent frenzy as I imagined what it would be like to really touch her for the first time. It was all I could do to walk and not run through the town like an idiot.

Finally, I reached her door—a smile on my face—and I knocked without hesitation.

The door opened almost instantly and my breath caught as I looked at my love with my own eyes for the first time. She was wearing a beautiful dress of green and white, one shoulder bare, and white roses cascading over the other shoulder and accenting her waist. In her small hand she grasped a rod connected to a dainty mask of green and white. Her hair was curled and pinned up with flowers that matched her gown perfectly. The shy smile on her face made my world catch on fire.

"Hi," I said softly.

"Hello," she giggled. An awkward silence filled the air. It was broken when we both started laughing at the same time.

"This is so weird!" Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she stood in the doorway, the skirt on her dress rustling slightly as she shuffled her feet.

"It kinda is," I agreed. "But I'm glad we're doing it." I grinned widely at her and stepped forward, reaching for her hand. When our skin touched I felt a fire more intense than any I'd felt in her dreams. I almost forgot how intense the flames felt—I was so accustomed to their heat—but they were nothing compared to the inferno her real touch created. I pushed the dance at The Glen to the back of my mind. I would not be rushed tonight.

I drew her closer, my fingers stroking her neck as I brushed her lips with my own. I imagined that I could hear the sizzle our skin created. Emilee released my hand and wrapped her arms around me, causing tingles to run down my spine while she sweetly returned my kisses. Every movement made me want more. I didn't even care if we made it to the party anymore. I was perfectly happy where I was.

The moment passed too soon for me, but I could tell Emilee was excited to see the world humans only dreamed about—literally. So much for asking if she'd rather ditch and stay here.

"Are you ready to go?" I offered my arm as I continued. "I hope you don't mind walking."

"Not at all," she replied, taking my arm and stepping out onto the porch. I closed the door behind her and we began our walk to the woods.

"You look very beautiful tonight," I said, as we strolled down the street, trying to look as normal as two adults dressed for a ball could.

"Thanks. I thought the dress was very fairy like, so I got it. I figured it would help match the occasion," she laughed.

"You were right. I imagine you'll fit right in." I imagine I'm going to have to beat some guys off you.

As we neared the tree line—escaping any prying eyes—I hastened our pace. Her eagerness was contagious and I quickly found myself anticipating our arrival. Emilee laughed at my excitement as I practically ran through the grass, anxious for her to see my home. We raced through the trees, laughing and clasping hands until we reached the magical path.

"Are you ready?" I asked, out of breath. With a nod from her, I uttered the magic word that revealed the road to the Glen. The trees parted, and the secret trail was revealed, dotted with magic sparkles. Her face lit up and her breath caught as she saw what would be the beginning of a wondrous night.

"Let's go!" We stepped into the lights and into my world.
Chapter Eight

The secret trail led to a courtyard of sorts, the small center of our town, surrounded by a three-sided brick wall that held our homes. Each wooden door either led directly to a home, like mine, or to a passage that led to other homes. Magic kept it from looking or feeling crowded. Where the fourth wall should have been there were actually wide, plain, stone steps that led up to the Mother's simple yet pretty home, in the woods. The magnificent trees appeared to touch the sky, and the beautiful grass sprawled lazily over and around the surrounding terrain like water seeps into hidden crevices.

Everything had been decorated for the evening. More magical lights floated in the air, flowers of every variety were placed randomly throughout the courtyard. The grand table had been placed in the center of the yard in preparation for the feast. After the eating was done, it would be removed to make room for dancing.

"I never want to forget this, it's so beautiful." Emilee sighed in wonder.

Just then, a group of both Fae and humans came into the enclosure, laughing and sipping wine. Emilee looked at me, questioningly.

"See how the air shimmers more around some of them? Those are Fae, The Glen recognizes them. It's kind of a magical 'welcome home' so to speak." I laughed as Emilee studied the group intently.

"What about the humans? Do they know where they are?"

"They've been enchanted so they won't remember anything that happens tonight. They probably don't even realize what's going on," I explained.

"What a shame," she said, as her gaze returned to them.

I smiled at her, reminding myself to control my displays of real affection—any sign of actual love between species would get us in trouble—and took her hand again, leading her to the table. The other Fae began to bring their guests over as well, while the food began to appear before us.

"Oh, good," Emilee giggled. "I was worried that you were going to eat all of us," she teased.

"Not for dinner. Dessert," I teased in return. "We always save the sweetest for last."

"I do believe that is the corniest thing I've ever heard you say!" She laughed loudly, causing many heads to turn our direction, and she blushed furiously while I laughed at her expense.

When everyone was seated, our attention was turned to the stone staircase as the Mother cleared her throat.

"Oh my goodness!" Emilee breathed. "She's beautiful! And look at her wings!" She spent a moment examining the light blue dress Mother was wearing and looking at her pointy ears, as well as the pale-pink, silky wings. "Wait, why is she not human?"

"Mother's forfeit their right to become human. They serve as a constant authority figure, no matter what," I whispered.

"Welcome, my children and guests!" Mother exclaimed, spreading her arms wide in greeting.

"Tonight we dine, dance, and love. Tomorrow is a new day, one whose plans we can never foretell. Let us enjoy ourselves as we celebrate the coming of Midsummer's Day!" Her speech was followed by loud cheers and raising of glasses as she came down the steps and sat at the head of the table. As soon as she finished her first bite of the meal, the rest of us began ours.

Emilee and I were silent, listening to the conversations around us, only needing each other's smiles as we ate. Every now and then, when I couldn't keep my emotions in check any longer, I would reach over and grab her hand, stroking it gently with my thumb. I could tell she was thoroughly enjoying herself, her eyes wide with excitement as she took everything in.

The meal ended and the table was removed. A throne was brought out and placed on the center of the steps for the Mother, as a band came out and set themselves up to the right side of her on the rest of the stairs.

The dancing began once Mother was seated. The physical fire I felt in Emilee's dreams burned with a new and increased intensity as I took her in my arms and began the waltz. I couldn't take my eyes off her; she was so beautiful, out shining any other woman there. It was all I could do not to rip the recently-dawned dance masks from our faces and ravage her right there.

"I love you," I whispered into her ear, pulling her unceremoniously closer to me.

"I love you, too," she sighed in utter contentment, holding onto me tightly. She rested her head on my chest and closed her eyes. We nearly missed the end of the music, but managed to stop our dance in time to applaud with the crowd. The Mother's eye's momentarily made contact with mine—a chill travelled up my spine and my breath caught in my throat. But her smile revealed nothing and I exhaled in relief.

As the next song began, a few couples left the courtyard and entered into their homes through the doors in the brick walls.

"Where are they going?" Emilee asked.

"To perform whatever rituals they brought their mortals here for. In this case, it's probably . . . uh . . . romantic encounters." I coughed out the last part, embarrassed.

"But aren't they under a spell? Wouldn't that be like forcing them to do it?" Horror was growing on her face as she spoke.

"No! I'm sorry I didn't explain that very well. They uh, they're aware enough to consent to something like that. No Fae would ever force themselves on someone in that manner."

"Oh." It was all she said, a blush creeping over both of our cheeks as we giggled nervously.

"Raith," a voice said into my mind, causing me to jump. "Would you kindly bring your guest and come with me to my home?" I looked around for the source of the voice and caught the Mother's eyes. She nodded and rose from her chair, leaving the party.

I started to swear and then thought better of it.

"What is it?" Emilee questioned.

"Mother just asked us to come meet with her." Emilee's eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded her approval. Hardly anyone noticed as we left the dance and walked up the steps to the Mother's home. Either they weren't paying attention, or they didn't want to interrupt their own all night dance party. Perhaps they knew, like I did, that we were in some sort of trouble.

"What do you think she wants?" Emilee asked, as we traveled through the tall trees. I waved away some twinkling lights before I answered.

"I'm not sure. I'm a little nervous though." I wasn't exactly lying. I could guess that the Mother had probably noticed our interactions with each other. I couldn't help adoring Emilee, and no doubt everyone noticed, regardless of my intentions to hide it. I gave her a quick smile and she held my hand tighter, trying to reassure me. My smile became weak and I tightened my grasp also.

When we reached the Mother's home, she was standing in the doorway, caressing a twinkling orb. I bowed as we came to a stop in front of her, Emilee following my lead and curtsying.

"Mother," I said in greeting.

"What is your friend's name?" she asked, ignoring my greeting.

"Emilee," I said shakily as my grip tightened on my love's hand.

"Emilee, my child," Mother began, turning her stare to my companion. "Would I be right in assuming that you are under no type of influence tonight?"

My heart felt as though it had stopped beating as I rushed to answer.

"I can ex-," I tried to answer, only to be interrupted by the Mother.

"I'm sure she can speak for herself, Raith." She stared at Emilee evenly, finally releasing the light she had been holding.

"Y-yes," Emilee stammered out, her hands beginning to shake fearfully. I gripped her even tighter. This was not good, in any way.

"Now then," Mother said, stepping out to us, her hands behind her. "Would one of you kindly explain why that is?" She looked at me, expressionless.

"How did you know?" I asked quietly, staring at the ground, avoiding her eyes.

"Magic leaves a trace, Raith. I could see it on every mortal but her tonight." She placed a hand on her forehead, frustration clouding her features. "You have put us all in danger with your foolish actions, my son. This cannot go unpunished."

"No, it's not like that," I interjected. I began to panic. I was pretty sure that this punishment wouldn't be anything like my previous punishments. "She won't, I lo-"

"I want to become Fae!" Emilee's interruption stopped me dead in my tracks. My head snapped up and I looked at her incredulously.

"No, she doesn't," I said after a moment. "It was all me, I wan-"

"Yes, I do." Her expression was hard and decided.

"Emilee, you don't have to do this, not for me," I pleaded.

"It's not for you, it's for me. I want to stay here."

The Mother looked at us carefully, studying us. Suddenly, she reached out and jabbed me hard in the chest. I felt a stinging and my breath was knocked away as I fell to one knee.

"What did you do to him?" Emilee shrieked, falling to the ground beside me.

"I have taken away his ability to travel into the mortal realm." Neither myself nor Emilee were able to speak for a moment. I prayed I heard her wrong. Nothing was happening the way it was supposed to this night—surely I had heard her wrong.

"What?" I whispered, when I found my voice.

"Without an enchantment she can tell others what she has seen and where we are. You have been in trouble countless times before due to your antics in the human world. You have exposed us all. I will not reward you by letting you keep her here forever, no matter how convenient it might be for me. You know there is no way to make her forget the things you have told her or what she has seen tonight! Not without calling upon a witch for aide, and I am not willing to pay the price she will ask!

"I have tried many times to excuse your actions, blaming them on your youth and high spirit, but this I can't excuse."

"I didn't think that I'd done anything wrong, Mother! I've never done anything that would hurt us—the other things were just pranks!"

"Exactly, Raith. You did not think. Maybe if I start punishing you more severely, you will abide by our laws in the future."

I cried out in desperation, tears beginning to trail down my cheeks.

"I love her! Please, please, don't do this to me, I can't . . . I can't live without her." I had gathered Emilee into my arms, both of us now crying and on our knees, begging as one.

"Please," Emilee whispered through her tears. "Please."

I could hardly see. All I could feel was panic and pain—and Emilee, crying in my arms. Her tears were falling onto my arms and I clutched her tighter.

The Mother looked down at us, harshly. I blinked through my tears, trying to read the expression on her face. Was it sorrow? Or loathing? I couldn't tell.

"I suggest you enjoy your night together," she said. "It will be your last."

"I won't let her go!" I spat out vehemently. "I'll do anything I can—I'll fight every second you try to keep me from her!"

When the Mother looked at me again, sorrow was plainly displayed on her face.

"I'm sorry, Raith. But you've done this to yourself."

I took Emilee to my house, knowing we wouldn't be missed and we didn't have much time left.

"I'm so sorry . . . I didn't know . . . I can't . . ." I sobbed as I gathered her into my arms, holding her firmly against me.

"Raith." She sobbed my name—her broken voice muffled in my shirt as she held onto me.

We cried until there were no more tears left. I felt numb. I thought I would have years left with her, that I would be with her every Midsummer's Eve. My life as I knew it was over.

I wished that it was over for real. I had nothing left to live for without Emilee.

I loved her so much. I wanted to take care of her and give her everything she'd ever wanted. I wanted to go with her and never return to The Glen. I wanted so many things, and every single one of them had been taken away in a mere moment. I needed a distraction from the pain and I settled on Emilee.

I ran my fingers through her hair over and over again, while we stood in each other's arms, our breath still hitching. I knew that we only had a few hours left together, but I didn't even know how to say what I wanted to tell her; I didn't know how to convey my feelings in a way that she would never forget.

So I kissed her, like I'd never kissed her before.

I started out slow, kissing the top of her head and moving my hands to her arms. Gently, I stroked her shoulders and then down to her elbows as she raised her head to look at me. I stopped for a moment, just to look at her.

Caressing first her cheeks and then her neck, I leaned in and kissed her lips softly. Closing my eyes from the hurt, I leaned in and kissed her again, increasing the pressure ever so slightly. I could feel the need growing inside me, the desire to give her everything and be with her in every way possible.

I kissed her again, longer and harder, then paused—my lips hovering over hers to gauge her emotions. Our eyes met. She was looking at me with love and a sad smile. As we gazed into each other's eyes, she nodded her consent to a question I had never even asked. Maybe I hadn't needed to. Tentatively, she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me down for another kiss.

I meant for the kiss to be sweet, and it started out that way, but soon it was filled with a fiery passion. I pushed her up against the wall, one hand on her jaw, the other at her hip. Crushing ourselves together, I licked her lips, teasing her and then kissed her neck.

My shirt was twisted in her fists. She kissed every part of my face she could reach, licked my neck, nipped at my ear, and drove me insane. I quickly turned her around so that her back was against me, and kissed her shoulders. Slowly, I unzipped her dress, kissing the skin as it became visible, falling to my knees to better reach her hips.

She had her hands pressed against the wall, her head resting there as well, and she moaned softly as I kissed her. I gently slipped the dress to the floor, stopping for a moment to appreciate the beauty before me. Her underwear was seductive, as if she'd planned for this to happen tonight, even though I knew she hadn't. I couldn't believe she really wanted me. And I'm never going to see her again.

I brushed the thought aside and my body took over, as I turned her around and stood up, sliding my hands from her knees, up her sides, and to her jaw. She grabbed onto the front of my shirt, unbuttoning it hastily, and pushed it off of my shoulders. I helped her remove it, quickly returning my fingers to her hot skin.

We stumbled haphazardly across the room—neither caring where we were going—until we fell onto the bed. I rolled until Emilee was underneath me and proceeded to kiss down the side of her neck while her nails dug into my back. I kissed her collarbone and was moving down her chest when she reached for the button on my pants. This is the last real memory we'll have of each other—us, doing this.

My world came to a screeching halt.

"Emilee, wait," I breathed. "I don't think we should do this." The hurt in her eyes almost killed me.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No! No, that's not it at all, love. You are amazing, actually . . ." I was getting sidetracked. Her state of undress was screaming for all my attention.

"I don't understand." She was still breathing heavily, laying underneath me, and I wanted to touch her so badly. I was going to kick myself for this later.

"I can't do this to you, it's not fair," I said as I pushed myself away from her and stood up. "I don't want a one night stand to be the last thing that you remember about me." I couldn't even look at her, she was so tempting.

"I want to do this though. I want to remember this," she argued.

"I know you do. I do too." I snuck a glance at her. Yup. Still can't look at her. I turned away again. "I don't want to remember it like this though, a moment of desperation. I want to remember it the way it should be—as something special. I'm sorry."

She was silent for a moment and then slowly got up and put her dress on. I located my shirt and dressed myself again as well. The awkward, sad silence remained between us and I sat down on the end of the bed patting the spot beside me.

"I love you Emilee, you know that. I promise, I will do everything I can to find you again."

A single tear rolled down her cheek and my heart wrenched again. I reached out and wiped it away, pulling her into my embrace.

"I love you, I promise," I repeated.

"I love you too," she whispered.

There was a knock at the door and two Fae men walked in. They looked at Emilee and beckoned her to come. My fists balled and I started to stand, but she placed her hand over mine and shook her head. More tears began falling down her face as she turned to look at me again, and I leaned in and kissed her softly.

She got up and walked to the door and her waiting escort.

"Forever?" she asked, with tears coming at an alarming rate.

"Forever."
Chapter Nine

When the next night came, I tried to see Emilee. I didn't know if the Mother had actually taken my ability, but I was going to find out. My heart raced when I stepped onto the magical path and could see the woods outside her town. I raced to the end, only to discover that I couldn't leave the road. Try as I might, the barrier held. In desperation, I reached out with my mind to find her, and discovered that the Mother had taken that ability away as well.

Rage boiled through me, as well as pain. I yelled, kicked, threw things, anything that I could think of to try and release the emotions bottled up inside me. Nothing helped.

Over the next several weeks, I tried various other means of returning to Emilee. First, I asked other rule-breaking Fae to help me. They didn't want their records associated with mine. I tried to steal a magic orb from outside the Mother's home—that was a really bad idea. I even took a sword to the magical barrier, but it yielded the same results as everything else before—nothing.

I didn't leave my house any more after that, preferring to suffer my heartbreak alone. Weeks passed, and then I stopped keeping track of time. It was too painful. Eventually I stayed in my bed all day. If anyone came by to check on me, I ignored them. The Mother summoned me once, stating that she was concerned about my behavior. I blew her off too.

If I couldn't see Emilee, I never wanted to see anyone.

Finally, I was unable to stand it any longer. I hated who I was becoming, but I couldn't be who I was before, not without her. I had to find her. I got out of bed and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess, greasy and unkempt. My facial hair had grown out considerably and my skin was pasty white. I ran my hands through my hair, making it look better than lying in bed had done, and changed my clothes. When I looked in the mirror again, at least I didn't resemble a homeless man—as much.

Opening my front door, I peeked around to make sure no one was watching and then left The Glen. I traveled down the magical path to the woods, just to feel closer to her. I sat in the dirt with the sunshine filtering through the trees and wondered what she was doing. Gradually, a crunching sound broke through my consciousness. Looking around, I saw branches moving, and suddenly, my love was there—right in front of me

She was sobbing, searching, and saying my name over and over again. Her clothes looked rumpled and her face had new and old tear stains streaked down it. Her hair was ratted and oily. I sprang to my feet.

"Emilee, Emilee, I'm here! Right here!" I pounded on the barrier separating us, yelling as loud as I could, but she couldn't see or hear me. I clawed at the invisible wall, screaming until my throat couldn't take any more. I half wished I'd never come. Seeing her without being able to hold or talk to her was killing me.

"Somebody help us!" I screamed out in frustration. "Gods, witches, anyone! I'll do anything you want—just let me be with her again!" I collapsed into the dirt—sobbing—my pain overtaking me. I wondered if immortals could die from a broken heart.

"My help will cost you greatly," a soft voice responded behind me. I turned to see a cloaked figure. A witch.

"I don't care what it costs. Just do it," I spat in my haste to answer.

"Hold on, young one. This truly is a large thing you ask for." The witch removed her cloak, revealing that she was a young woman with beautiful blonde hair and a fit form.

"Young one? I'm at least twenty times your senior," I scoffed. The separation had made me a bitter person. It was my way of fighting back; the Mother had hoped I'd shape up and instead I was determined to be as nasty as I could.

"You're being rude," she pointed out. "I am not like other witches. I too have been alive a very, very long time. Longer than you."

"I've only heard of one witch like that," I said skeptically. "Baeg, banished goddess and Queen of the Witches."

She remained silent.

Oh, crap.

In instant humility I bowed low to the earth and asked for forgiveness. Being rude to a goddess and queen could put me in a worse situation than I was now, not that I could imagine anything worse at this moment.

"It's understandable. Now, about you and Emilee," she began.

"How did you know her name?" I asked, surprised.

"I'm a goddess, Raith."

"Oh, right. Sorry." I could feel hope creeping once again into my system. The old me was resurfacing, but I was afraid to let him out. I didn't want to lose him and Emilee again.

She gave me a stern look before continuing.

"There is a well, The Wishing Well, which my power is connected to. If you will bring a coin to the well and make your wish, I will grant it."

"What's the catch?" It sounded too easy on its own.

"Emilee won't become Fae, you will become human," she said.

"And the price?" I asked, fine with becoming human if it meant I would be with Emilee.

"All of your memories," she cooed.

"Excuse me?" I sputtered. "What does that mean?!"

"You will give me all your memories of being Fae, your time with Emilee, all of it. And I will take all her memories of you." Baeg smiled wickedly and wrung her hands in excitement.

I was in shock. "How am I supposed to find her so we can be together if neither of us remembers the other?"

"I'm not completely evil," she laughed. "There is a catch to the price as well—neither of you will remember anything until the moment you touch each other's skin for the first time. In that second, all your memories will be returned."

My head was reeling. It seemed like too much to ask, but so welcoming at the same time. I can find her, I know I can. Somewhere in there I'll remember her. I have to!

"Alright," I agreed. "I'll do it." I'll do anything to have her back.

Baeg shared a sickly smile, and beckoned for me to follow her.

We walked for hours, far away from The Glen and anything near it. The farther we walked the more dead and dark the forest became. We must have been on a magical path as well, much like the one that led to my home. I didn't know where we would end up.

Oddly enough, I wasn't nervous. I figured that either I would end up with Emilee, or I would die. Those were my two choices either way.

We finally entered a clearing as dead as the trees around it. The dirt was black, like it had been burned, and branches reached into the clearing like ghostly hands grabbing for lost souls. There were only two beautiful things there—the magic orbs floating in the air and the well.

The black, stone Wishing Well was magnificent. The closer I drew to it, the more amazed I became as it towered over my head, twice as tall as I was. We circled it without climbing the narrow, stone staircase that wrapped around it. It was devoid of any life, yet the magic glittered from every crevice. As I gazed upon it, I mused that the water itself must have the same magic quality sparkling from its surface causing the brightest source of light to be the well itself.

All of the orbs were attracted to Baeg, their Queen, and she held some in her hands, whispering to them lovingly. She's nuts. Almost as if she'd heard me, she turned and looked at me.

"Well, young one, do you still want to continue with our deal?" She tossed the magic orb into the air, watching it fly around her.

"I'm positive," I answered.

"You can never reenter Fae, Raith. Do not make this decision lightly," she warned.

"I don't want to come back," I replied. "I want to be with Emilee." I didn't have anything else to say, it was as simple as that. I turned from her and approached the well. I ascended the stone steps until I was standing at the edge of the water. Pulling a coin from my pocket, I looked into the well and wished.

"Take me to my Emilee!" And with that, I kissed the coin and threw it in.
Epilogue

I opened my eyes groggily as an alarm blared in my ear. I hit the snooze button and rolled over, grimacing as sunlight hit my eyes. I was still so tired.

Why did I sign up for such an early class?

It had been almost a year since I'd woken in a hospital with no idea who I was or where I came from. They told me I was found lying in the middle of the street, unconscious. Unresponsive, I was taken to the emergency room and admitted to the hospital until I roused. It was like someone had just dumped me out there. All I had was a piece of paper with my name on it.

"Raith Johnson," I muttered to myself. It was hard to wake up every morning and wonder if you really were the person everyone kept saying you were. I'd looked everywhere trying to find out something about myself, but there was nothing to be found. It was like I never existed until that day in the street.

What kind of person must I have been, if no one has even come looking for me?

When the alarm went off again, my roommate came in and turned it off for me.

"Dude," he said. "You're going to be late for class if you don't get up now. Why are you so tired? Didn't you stay in last night?"

"Yeah man, I did. I have a huge test today in one of my law classes," I explained. "I was up all night studying."

"You're the only guy I know who forgets who he is but still decides to try and get into law school." He laughed.

"Well, I figure I might as well make the best of it. I'm getting another chance at life for some reason." I still wished I knew who I was, but I meant it. I had another chance for some reason, and I was going to make the best of it.

After getting ready for the day, I headed out the door to school. I fell into a normal school day routine consisting of breakfast to-go, class, study in the campus courtyard, class, lunch from the cafeteria, class, more class, and then study in the campus library. However, my "normal routine" was about to get mixed up.

"Are you sure you don't have another copy?" I asked the librarian for the third time.

"I am absolutely positive, Mr. Johnson," she said icily.

I gave a frustrated sigh and ran my fingers through my hair.

"Do you know of any book stores or anything that would have a copy I could get right now? I really need that book." I felt bad for being so pushy, so I smiled apologetically. It didn't seem to do much good.

"The only other thing I can tell you is to try the public library on the other side of town." She turned away from me abruptly and I knew that was all the information I was going to get. Thanks a lot—not.

Grabbing my bag, I hurried out the door and although I'd never been to the public library before, I knew the general location and raced there on my bike. If I hurried, I would make it before they closed.

Ten minutes later, the old, paint worn doors swung open as I ran inside, down the towering aisles of books, straight to the librarian's desk. After breathlessly enquiring about my book, I turned around and hurried to the section I needed. I would have to leave to let them lock up in five minutes.

This was turning into a nightmare fast. If I didn't get that book I wouldn't be able to write the assigned paper due in two days. If I didn't write the paper, I'd fail the class. If I failed the class, goodbye law school.

My first perusal of the shelf yielded no results. Frustrated, I took a deep breath as I carefully glanced at each book, individually—she said it was not loaned out. The book wasn't there.

Flustered, I pulled out my phone and started looking up the nearest bookstore. I really, really needed that book.

While studying the map on my phone, I began walking to the front doors. I wasn't paying attention, and bumped right into a cart full of books, as well as the girl pushing it. She, in turn, bumped into the shelf next to us and a shower of books fell from the trolley, as well as the shelf, onto the floor with her.

"I'm so sorry!" I immediately bent down and offered to help her up, but she refused.

"It's okay, I've got it," she replied, getting to her knees. I felt horrible, especially since she was probably ready to go home and now I'd caused her more work.

"At least let me help you pick up all these books. I'm so sorry. You're closing and I had to go and make this huge mess for you." I felt like the world's biggest heel.

"It's alright, really," she laughed. "You can help pick up if it will make you feel better." She smiled at me and my heart did a funny flip.

I can't get in a relationship now. Remember; focus, law school, second chance.

I shook my head and began picking up books with her. The pile grew smaller and the echo of the books being set on the trolley rang through the now empty library. When only one book was left, we both reached for it, and our hands touched.

Memories of dances, kisses, and music came flooding into my mind so quickly that I yanked my hand away as if I'd been shocked. The girl looked at me with tears in her eyes.

"Raith?"

And then I kissed my Emilee.
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_Nominated for the 2013 "_ _Best Sugar Shock Novel_ _" award, Best Male Character, and Best Cover!_

_Sometimes even the gods can't change their fate..._

_Vegas is not where Karly had imagined herself to be at this point in her life.She was supposed to be living in California, soaking up the sun and enjoying the life of an artist. Instead, she's just moving out of her parent's house and going to a school that could loosely be called her second choice. When she meets Zeus Drakos, owner of the new hit casino and resort in town, he seems just like every other jerk guy out there. How was she supposed to know who he really was?_

"Class, this is our model for the day! And your name is . . .?"

"Zeus."

My head snapped up so quickly I thought my neck might break.

He was wearing nothing but a white bathrobe and the cockiest grin I'd ever seen. My eyes must have looked like orbs, I was so shocked. He gave me a quick wink.

"Well, Zeus, thank you so much for volunteering to do this for us," the teacher continued.

"It's no problem," he said. "I just want to really appreciate every art form out there. I thought if I was a part of the art that it would mean more to me."

"We're very happy you're here," the teacher said. Her eyes were glazing over as she stared at him and I could almost see the fantasy she must have had playing in her head.

"Should I?" He pointed at the platform and moved to take his robe off.

"Oh, yes, please!" She grabbed an easel herself, never taking her eyes from him, and sat down.

I gasped as his robe came off, averting my eyes just in time, blushing a million shades of red.

"This is officially my favorite class ever," the girl next to me said with a grin, her gaze devouring the man in front of her.

"Uh-huh," I agreed weakly. I glanced around the side of my canvas and saw Zeus lying on his side, propped up on his elbow, facing me.

"Hey," he said, cocking an eyebrow and smiling devilishly.

I gulped, my eyes still wide, and made sure my easel was positioned so that there was no chance of me seeing his lower half. If the professor had wanted a full body portrait then I was getting half off—I wasn't even going to look at that part of him.

I heard him laugh softly and looked up again. He was still staring at me, a wide smile on his lips.

"Did you get my flowers?" he whispered.

I nodded and gulped again, focusing on my canvas that still had nothing on it.

"You know what? This position is a little bit uncomfortable," he said to the class. "Do you mind if I move?"

There was a chorus of approval from the females in the room and some grumbling from the males. Zeus scooted a little further down, laid his head on his arm, and bent one of his legs. The position had opened up his private area and I squirmed as I readjusted my painting so I wouldn't look at it.

"We should go out tonight," he whispered to me again. "It'll be fun, I promise. We can talk about this."

I died a thousand deaths inside. The girl next to me was sending a murderous glare my way. This was not an experience I ever wanted to talk about. To anyone. Ever. I remained silent, trying to paint his head and shoulders. Maybe a bust would still get me a good grade.

"Is that a yes or no?" There was laughter in his eyes as he spoke, obviously aware of my discomfort.

"I'm sorry, this one isn't working either," he announced loudly and stood up.

I ducked my head down, my easel too short to cover anything up. I could hear him chuckling.

"So date or no date?" he whispered again, even though I wouldn't raise my head. "Wow, it must be hard to paint me without looking. Unless you've memorized my amazing good looks. Have you? That would be so flattering, as well as a good indicator that you want to go out tonight."

I dropped my paintbrush and covered my face with hands.

"Just stretching for a minute," he announced again. From the girls giggling around me I could guess that he was pointing his hips towards my direction.

I dropped my hands, still not looking, and sighed.

"If I say I'll go out with you tonight, will you stop trying to show me your crotch?"

"I don't know, are you saying you will?" I could hear the laughter in his whisper.

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Swept Away (The Swept Away Saga #1)

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Dead men tell no tales...

For more than 200 years, the Treasure Pit on Oak Isle has baffled treasure hunters, engineers, and the common man alike. When Samantha Greene arrives, she finds her estranged father has spent years funneling energy and finances into the endeavor, finding nothing.

When an accidental death occurs in the pit, fulfilling the prophecy that seven lives must end before the treasure can be found, the search kicks into high gear, with more than one party vying for the secrets that lie below. Finding herself the closest to the treasure anyone has ever been, Samantha throws herself into the work, landing among the coveted prize. Just as she's about to discover what's truly hidden beneath the island, the pit begins to flood with ocean water, sweeping her away despite her attempts to swim to the surface.

Upon awaking, Samantha discovers that, not only did she not drown, but the year is 1695--one hundred years before the Treasure Pit was even discovered. Carried off by the pirate Tristan O'Rourke, a rogue Irishman with more than his share of secrets, she soon finds that there is much more than she realized in play. Will she discover the secrets of Oak Isle, or will an unexpected love keep her from finding out the truth? Will she ever make it back to her own time? Perhaps the real question is this; will she want to?
"Is he dead?"

"It's not a he, you dolt! Can't ya see her breasts?"

"I've never seen a lady in trousers before, savvy? What do ye reckon? Is she a castaway?"

"If she is, she's shark bait, for sure. See the cut on her leg?"

"Aye, her legs are about all I can look at, besides her bosom!"

My head was pounding and it felt like I was about to vomit everything I'd ever eaten in my life. But even through the pain haze, the tone of the men's voices was setting off alarms in my mind. I wasn't safe, not around them at least.

"What's amiss over here? Why aren't ye scallywags on board yet?"

"It's O'Rourke," one of the men close to me muttered. "Leave it to the Old Salt to spoil our fun. Imagine if she's a whore? Wouldn't that be lucky?"

"Doesn't matter if she's a whore or not, I'll take her to my bed!"

The men hooted with laughter and I decided I'd played dead long enough.

"You'll take me to bed if you want to lose an appendage!" I growled, rolling over and stumbling to my feet.

"Blow me down!" the man closest to me exclaimed, skittering away.

Reeling, I grabbed my head with one hand and my injured leg with the other. Standing had not been the best plan. I couldn't run away even if I wanted. Everything around me was spinning out of control as I tried to stagger away from the group.

"Ha! The lassie's three sheets to the wind," one of the men snorted.

"What are you talking about?" I asked in confusion, feeling like rolling over and dying in that moment. My thoughts felt muddied as I tried to remember the last thing I'd been doing.

"I asked what's going on over here?"

Vaguely, I was aware of another man joining the group, but I was too preoccupied with keeping my feet and clearing my vision to try and see all of them just yet.

"We found the woman passed out on the shore, Quartermaster. We didn't—ah—quite know what to do with her."

"Oh, aye? I know ye lot, and ye know that I don't stand for rape among the crew. Now leave the lass be!"

The man's voice was gruff and had an accent that I couldn't place at the moment, but it was obvious that he carried the authority over the other men.

"Aye," came the mumbled responses.

Unable to keep it together anymore, I fell to the ground—which was sand, I suddenly noticed— and cradled my face in both hands.

"Are ye okay, mistress?"

It was the authoritative man, his voice soft and much nearer to me than before.

"Uh," I choked out. "I think so. My head hurts pretty bad. And my leg."

"Aye, ye've a nasty cut. Do ye mind tellin' me what happened to ye?"

"I think . . . I drowned," I answered truthfully. Slowly, memories began coming back to me, of water choking the life out of me, of being swept along an underground tunnel that led from the pit to the sea. I'd lost consciousness before making it out, but, apparently, I'd made it out alive.

Gingerly, I raised my head, blinking several times in the bright sunlight. As everything cleared, I took in the sounds of waves on the shore, the breeze brushing past me, and a marine smell. My vision cleared after a moment longer and I saw the ocean in front of me, the sandy beach flowing seamlessly into it, and a giant ship anchored not far off, sails pulled in, along with a rowboat making its way to her hull.

"Wow," I said, shocked. "I've never seen a ship like that out here except for reenactments! Are they doing one today? I didn't even know they did them anymore, to be honest." Turning to look at my companion, I laughed as I took in his outfit. "Are you one of the performers?"

Wearing a white, collared shirt, with a red, button jacket open over the top of it, the tails of the coat hung down over his black pants, which were tucked into his leather boots. A thick belt, holding a pistol and sword, was buckled around his waist. Tan skin and short, dark hair finished the look, granting him an air of a time long ago.

"You did a great job," I said appreciatively. "I've never seen such work put into a costume before."

"Costume?" he asked in a puzzled tone, the look on his face matching. "I've no idea what ye're talking about, woman."

"Oh! You must be a—what do they call it—a method actor! That's why all of you were talking like that, right? That's awesome! Good for you guys!"

Yeah. Go ahead and compliment his job choice while you bleed to death. Grimacing slightly, I adjusted my leg, trying to assess the damage. He continued to stare, a blank expression on his features.

Laughing, I watched the man's face. He truly was amazing at his craft, my words seeming to mean absolutely nothing to him.

"O'Rourke!"

A much older man came ambling down the shore towards us, clothed in the same manner as the man next to me, a stream of curse words flying from his mouth as he adjusted his privates. Behind him, another man strode furiously, his grey coat flapping in the breeze.

"Yes, Captain?" The man next to me turned, stepping ever so slightly in front of me.

"Explain to me why Mr. Oswald is now demanding that we pay him twice the amount for his wine?" The Captain huffed, his bloodshot eyes about to pop out of his head. Even from this distance, I could smell the alcohol on him, as well as the stink that only comes from not bathing for a very, very long time. His white wig sat precariously on his head, revealing several patches of ratted gray hair.

"It's the same price ye've paid for the last year!" Mr. Oswald argued, stopping a few feet away to wag a finger in the Captain's face.

"Yes, O'Rourke," the Captain growled. "Mr. Oswald says you've been paying twice as much for a year, and that ye're the one who brokered the deal."

"Yes, sir," O'Rourke confirmed. "That is our current deal."

"And why," the Captain glowered, "did ye agree to do such a thing?"

"Mr. Oswald, ah, came across some questionable activity of yerself last year. I took care of matters myself."

"Christ, boy, do ye not know how to be a pirate?"

Turning decidedly, the Captain pulled the gun from his waistband and pointed it at Mr. Oswald.

"No, wait!' O'Rourke yelled, raising a hand to stop him.

The shot rang out loud and clear and I jumped, clapping a hand to my mouth. Mr. Oswald just stared at the two of them, dumfounded, as a bright red stain began to move across his shirt. As if in slow motion, his body crumpled underneath him and he fell to the ground with a silent thud.

"There. Now there's no blackmail and we've got a whole store of free wine. See how that works, boy?"

"Yes, Captain," O'Rourke said stiffly, his tone suggesting he didn't particularly like being called that.

"May God have mercy on his soul," the Captain said.

"May he indeed," I muttered, still looking at what was very obviously a real dead body.

"Who are you?" The Captain barked and I jumped again, my mind not accepting the things around me. Maybe I really had died? Or was in a coma and dreaming?

"Ach, just a lassie walking on the beach, Captain. Nothing to worry about."

"Aye? Bring her along then, will ye? I could use some good company among you lot."

"Excuse me?" I asked.

O'Rourke grunted in distaste. "It's frightful bad luck to bring a woman aboard, Captain."

"Avast ye," the Captain said seriously. "Ye take her aboard or I'll bring the cat o' nine tails against ye myself. Savvy?"

"Aye, Captain." The growl left his barely moving lips as O'Rourke turned and grabbed my arm, hauling me to my feet.

"Good, good. You go out now, I'll join ye after a quick drink." The captain turned away from us then and began to hobble back from where he came. Apparently, there was civilization somewhere, close enough for him to walk to at least.

"Well, lass," O'Rourke stated, following the captain with his gaze as well. "I'm afraid ye're going to have to come with me."

"Excuse me?" I asked, trying to wrench away from him.

"Ye heard the Captain. Apparently, ye're going to become part of our pirate crew."

"Like hell I am!" I grunted, kicking him with the foot of my injured leg.

"Ouch!" he hollered. "Would you stop that?"

"Let go of me," I yelled, pulling against him as hard as I could.

"It's for . . . yer . . . own . . . good!" With a massive grumble, he grabbed me around the waist with his free hand and hauled me over his shoulder.

Pain seared through the cut on my leg and I cried out, punching him in the back. "Put me down!"

"Be quiet!" he commanded harshly. "I'm trying to help ye, ye witch!"

"I'm not a witch!" I replied vehemently, struggling harder, kicking my good leg against his front, without much success.

"Argh!" he yelled in a very pirate like fashion.

"Oh, shut up," I half laughed back. "You're not fooling anyone with that pirate jargon. Put me down."

"Trust me. The last thing ye want to do is walk on that leg. By the looks of it, I'd say ye're lucky ye're not feeding the fishes as we speak. The sea took a good bit of blood from ye. And as for fooling, well, I'd say I'm doing a fine job convincing ye that I'm anything but what I clearly am. Ye'd think ye'd never seen a buccaneer before, and ye livin' here of all places!"

"I don't live here," I answered, finally going limp as another wave of exhaustion swept over me. "I don't even know where 'here' is."

"Is that so?" he asked in a non-believing tone. We'd made it to the waterline by then and a rowboat was waiting, another man in costume standing by, oars in hand.

"Look," I sighed. "I told you. I almost drowned. One minute I'm trying to get my head above water and the next thing I know, I'm lying on this beach being verbally assaulted by you and your mates. I appreciate that you're all dedicated to the show, but I'm really freaked out by the murder we just nonchalantly witnessed—now would be a good time to tell me that was all special effects, by the way—and the fact that you're still carrying me and refusing to give up the act is very upsetting."

He set me down in the boat, giving me a stern warning look that I took to mean not to move, and then took a seat in front of me, picking up his own pair of oars.

"Well, ye are on the beautiful shores of Acadia. The island ye woke on is a favorite of the Captain's for meetings and such."

Nodding as he spoke, I stared at the island we were leaving. It was covered in oak trees, appearing to be completely separate from the mainland next to it. Acadia. So I was in the same place I'd been, it just looked . . . different.

"We'll get ye on board and have a look at that leg," O'Rourke was saying, our extra rower apparently just along for the ride. "I think we have a crate somewhere with clothes more befitting of a lady."

"What, no Spanish gold for you and your crew?" I joked.

"I don't follow?"

"Isn't that what pirates do? Rob ships of their gold?"

A loud, hearty laugh broke from his mouth and his green eyes sparkled as he watched me, obviously entertained by what I'd said. "Wouldn't that be grand, aye?" he asked his partner, who was also laughing. "We take what goods we can get, lassie. Sugar, tea, booze, silks. It's a rare day that ye find a vessel laden down with Spanish gold."

"Could ye imagine?" the other man finally said. "A whole ship's worth of gold. I'd buy me own island down south and never leave. All the women and rum ye could want."

"It's a dream," O'Rourke nodded.

"Toss down Jacob's Ladder," the other man yelled as we came up next to the ship.

"Are ye all right to climb aboard?" O'Rourke asked skeptically.

"I'm fine," I snarled, grabbing the bottom rung of the rope ladder that'd been thrown down to us.

Grunting, I attempted to pull myself up, my body weak from my nighttime ordeal, and failed miserably. Ignoring the outright laughs from behind, I tried again, successfully making it up one rung. It took longer than I was willing to admit, but I finally made it up the side of the ship, fresh blood slowly leaking from my wound, and stumbled onto the deck.

"It's the whore!"

Immediately, I was greeted by a mass of men in varying states of disarray. Some of their clothing was torn and dirty, a great many of them were missing teeth, the stench was enough to kill a cow, and I was pretty sure I saw a peg leg in there somewhere.

"Back off," O'Rourke ordered, coming aboard behind me. "She's for the Captain only!"

Cries of disapproval rang out, but the crew disbanded, going back to whatever they'd been doing before we arrived. Some were playing cards, while others drank happily from a barrel.

"Come on," O'Rourke stated, beckoning for me to follow him. "Let's get yer leg fixed up right, aye?"

He led me across the deck of the ship, moving slow enough for me to keep up. He was right—walking really was the last thing I wanted to do right now. Finally, we went up a staircase and through a door, into what I assumed to be the Captain's Quarter's. It was a hall, though, leading back into the ship, with two rooms in front of us, the smaller of which we entered.

"Here, lassie," he said, motioning for me to sit on the bed built into the far wall.

"Stop calling me that," I mumbled, more annoyed with the pain I was feeling than anything else. "I'm not a dog."

"Aye? I hadn't noticed."

"Ha ha," I replied dryly.

"Lassie doesn't mean dog, ye know," he suddenly said seriously, opening a cupboard on the wall across from me. "It only means "young girl." Surely ye've been called that before?"

"Not exactly," I muttered. "I can't be that much younger than you. I'm only twenty-three. What are you, twenty-four?"

"I was born in the year of our Lord sixteen hundred and seventy."

Laughing loudly, I rolled my eyes and smiled smugly. "Right. That makes you how old?"

"Five and twenty," he answered, staring at me quizzically, a spool of thread and a needle in his hands. "Did ye perhaps hit yer head during yer accident?"

I didn't answer. My brain refused to accept what he was saying to me, and with good reason. There was absolutely no way it was sixteen ninety-five. No way. This was a prank, or some weird dream I was having. Maybe I had hit my head and this was my way of coping with what was happening to me. Maybe, right at this moment, I was still drowning, and my oxygen-deprived brain was trying to give me something to make it feel better.

Remaining silent, I became semi aware of him making preparations to sew up my leg. He didn't really seem to know what to do with my jeans, so he just pushed them aside, shooting me a look that was suspicious at best. A grubby cloth was used to wipe it somewhat clean. It was only as he lowered the needle to begin the stitching that I suddenly felt the need to say something.

"Hold the needle in a flame first," I blurted out.

He froze, looking at me in surprise. "Why?"

"It'll help kill the germs," I explained, silently wondering if the world knew what germs were in the seventeen century.

"Germs?"

That was a big nope.

"Just do it," I sighed. "It'll help me feel better."

Giving me another odd look, he drove the needle down into my leg sharply, ignoring my request and causing a quick gasp to flee from my lips. Thankfully, he'd anchored his legs against mine, sitting on a stool in front of me, and was able to keep me steady. "Why are you helping me?" I asked as he worked. "To get me ready for your Captain?"

"Ach, no!" he exclaimed. "I'd as soon as leave ye alone on the island than have yer bad luck on deck."

"Then why did you bring me out here?" I asked in surprise.

"Yer leg needed tending."

"Good guy pirate, huh?" I wrinkled my nose at him, feeling like I was being held captive more than being assisted. "So you'll be taking me back to shore when you're done then?"

"No." He finished the stitches and tied off the string, releasing my leg.

"What do you mean no?" I demanded, standing up shakily.

"Ye heard the captain. I'm not one to disobey a direct order."

"Uh, no, I'd like for you to take me back. Right now!"

"I will do no such thing," he replied coolly. "Ye're going to stay here and that's final."

Panic flooded me and I looked around anxiously. I had to return to the island and figure out how to get home. Whether that meant waking up, or actually having to travel through time—again—I needed to do it right away. There was no telling where I'd get carted off to if I stayed here.

"Please?" I asked, a slight hint of begging to my tone. "Don't make me stay." Maybe I could appeal to his nice side.

"No such luck, lassie. Ye're on board for a while, I'm afraid."

Suddenly, white-hot rage and fear filled me and I reached out, slapping him hard across the face. "Take me back this instant," I demanded.

"Listen here," he said angrily, grabbing me by the wrists. "Do ye not understand what I'm trying to do for ye?"

"I'll not be served up like some dinner dish to your Captain!" I screamed. "Let go of me!"

"Stop shouting!" he yelled back. "I've half a mind to teach ye a lesson and take ye here myself!"

"Do it," I dared him. "Then you can always remember what a monster you are!"

Face burning with rage, he shoved me back, stinging my leg as I fell onto the bed. "Stupid woman!" he scolded, his voice going very quiet. "The Captain was so drunk, ye might be lucky and he'll forget ye're even here! If I were ye, I'd pray that be the case. He's not kind to his women. He beats them something fierce, one almost to death since I've been under his command."

My mouth gaped like a fish as I stared at him, trying to find words to express what I was feeling. "You brought me aboard a ship not only to be raped, but beaten as well? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Argh!" he groaned in anger and frustration. "A pox on ye, ye witch! I'm trying to help ye!"

"By locking me in his room to wait for him? How is he going to forget I'm here then, huh?"

"This is my room, ye fool! I'm tryin' to hide ye!"

"I'd much rather go back to the island, if you don't mind," I said in a clipped tone. "Thank you for your help, and the medical assistance, but I'd rather not risk a beating."

"I'd just as soon beat ye myself," he replied snidely. "Ye're not to leave this room until I say."

"Watch me," I shot back.

"Woman!" Looking as if he were about to explode from anger, I was sure my snotty smile was driving him further into the red. With a sudden decisiveness, he moved forward and very strongly pressed his palm against my wound.

"Ow!" I cried, scrambling back further onto the bed to get away from him.

"Stay here," he said sternly. Turning on his heel, he marched right out the door, slamming it shut behind him. After a second, I heard the turning of the lock and knew I was trapped in this nightmare.
About The Author

Kamery is not the person who grew up dreaming of the day that she would clutch her very own novel to her chest, tears brimming over the rims of her eyes as she thought about how she'd written it herself, finally! In fact, anything remotely like that didn't even happen until she was actually holding her first book in her hand, amazed that she'd written it and wondering how on Earth she'd managed to do it when it hadn't ever occurred to her to write one until months before. Surprisingly, though, it was just what she never realized she loved doing.

When starting out in life, Kamery had (and still has) big dreams to perform on Broadway. She loves music and acting very much, while she and dance have a love/hate relationship; she would love to do it and every form of dance decides it hates that about her, haha! The one constant she always had between the performing world and the book world were the stories, tales that transported her to other worlds and made her feel like she really could do anything. Finally, she decided she wanted to do that for someone else and sat down to write.

It's been a few years since she held that first book, realizing that she really liked writing and wanted to do more, but the love that blossomed in that moment has only grown. Currently, Kamery works from home in the White Mountains of Arizona, while taking care of her two adorable kids, a girl and a boy, and talking her sweet husband Jake's ear off about the insane amount of characters in her head who are ready to fight to the death for a chance at their own novels. It truly is a wonderful life!

www.kamerysolomonbooks.com
