Page 31 of Of Wind and Terror

My little cherub.

The contained order to my explosive chaos.

Elves feel the connection differently than most fae do. We simply…know. It’s an innate sense of knowledge, like the sky is blue and the grass is green. Once we’ve made contact with our fated mate, it’s impossible for us to lose them. We’re able to track them no matter the distance, our internal compasses pointing us in our other half’s direction.

It’s how I know Kassandra is currently in the tiny cabin located at the very back of the village.

It’s how I know she feels a strong sense of contentment and security.

It’s how I know that my cherub, my fated mate, the other half of my tarnished soul, has just been pleasured.

Raw fury pulsates through me, and I tighten my grip around the pommel of the sword. I know Blaze is Kassandra’s fated mate as well, but that doesn’t lessen the jealousy burning a hole in my gut like corrosive acid.

He, at least, could’ve allowed me to join in. Or watch. Or listen.

I’m honestly good with any of those options.

Maybe I should just kill him…

Ugh. No. Killing him would hurt my cherub, and hurting my cherub would inevitably hurt me.

It sometimes sucks having a conscience and “caring” about other people.

“What are you—?” A purple-haired fae pauses with his foot halfway out the door of a nondescript cottage. His mouth drops open, and terror paves its way across his face. “You shouldn’t be out!” he bellows, and then a burst of magic slams into my stomach, forcing me off my feet.

Normally, something like that wouldn’t knock me out, but I don’t have use of both my legs, dammit. That was a cheap shot.

I chuckle from my spot on the ground, staring up at the mid-morning sky, a canvas of sea-blue broken apart by fluffy clouds.

“I wouldn’t have done that if I were you,” I drawl lazily.

Then, with a flippant wave of my hand, I force the fae into the air. I don’t even bother to sit up, mainly because I know my magic momentarily made me paralyzed completely from the waist down.

I hold the fae high in the air, ignoring the cries and exclamations from the other villagers as they exit their houses to see what all the commotion is.

The blonde-haired fae my cherub befriended—Faye, I believe her name is—releases a curse and then hurries in the direction I know Kassandra to be.

If she’s grabbing me my cherub, then I’ll let her go. Besides, I have a hostage. No one will dare attack me knowing I have this pathetic excuse for a fae’s life in my hands.

And I’m right. The other warriors surround me, their spears drawn and their faces distorted in anger, but nobody dares harm me. They know that the purple-haired fuck won’t survive the fall to the ground.

So I just remain where I am, lying on the ground, humming under my breath, waiting for my perfect cherub to come and kiss my booboos better.

I don’t have to wait long.

Footsteps precede the incessant tugging in the center of my chest, which forces my head in Kassandra’s direction.

I can’t help but smile as she stalks towards me, looking beautiful and radiant and ethereal and every other synonym I can think of. Her blonde curls are loose and tousled, and I have the sudden, irresistible urge to run my fingers through the strands. She’s wearing the same dress from before, but I note that a few of the buttons are undone and the material seems to droop off of one shoulder, unveiling alabaster skin I yearn to kiss, lick, and bite.

When she sees me, she stops, her eyes comically wide in her face. She immediately begins to sign in Falkan—I make a mental note to study the language of the hands as soon as I’m able to—and Faye translates for me.

“She wants to know what the fuck you’re doing.” The tiny fae folds her arms over her chest and scowls at me.

I blink innocently. “Wouldn’t a better question be…what is he doing?” I jerk my chin in the direction of the purple-haired fae. “Personally, I think he’s just hanging around.” I snort at my own joke, but when no one joins in, I pout. I thought that was hilarious. “If you must know, I decided to take this fae hostage for the time being.”

Kassandra immediately begins to sign again, her rapid hand motions nothing but a blur, and I don’t need a translator to know what she asked me.

“Why?” I attempt to arch an eyebrow, but I know the effect is probably lost with me still lying on the ground. “Because I needed to see you, and apparently, kidnapping is the only way to get your attention.” I bat my lashes at her flirtatiously. “Aren’t I super romantic? A…get this…psychomantic.”

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