Page 44 of How To Tame A Trickster Fae

I should feel guilty.

It’s worrisome that I only feel irritated and out of sorts about the whole thing.

The bed squeaks as Fenn hops onto the mattress, padding silently across the yellow quilt until he reaches my chest. A rough paw pats my cheek, and I crane my neck to look at him.

“I think I might have made a mistake,” I tell him somberly.

His amber eyes regard me seriously, and then he curls up at my shoulder in his cinnamon bun fashion, a cozy fur against my skin and his comforting heartbeat in my ear.

My jaw pops as I heave a massive yawn, and I stare up at a growing water stain on the ceiling from what must be a leak in the roof.

Another expense I can’t afford. Without business, I won’t be able to even keep this place, no matter how I came into it.

I need the damned dragon sapphires, and I need the guild to back me, and I don’t give a damn if I hurt Caelan’s feelings by binding him to my task.

Well, maybe I do give a damn… but at least this way I can guarantee myself a future here in Wild Oak Woods.

I don’t want to leave.

I suck in a breath through my nose as the realization hits me full force.

I want this place to be home. I want to make it one.

I have a plan, and I’m damn sure I’m going to make it happen, because no one else can do it for me.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CAELAN

Daybreak is not my finest hour. Never has been, never will be. I’m fairly certain the Dark Queen outlawed daybreak centuries ago in the Underhill for the same reason.

Still, I’m outside the conniving little witch’s shop as the sun begins to peek across the horizon, a pack on my shoulders and a sneer on my face.

It wouldn’t do to let Wren know just how much I’m enjoying the fact that she not only managed to bind me to her, but also was bright and devious enough to see an opportunity to best the dwarves and help herself.

It wouldn’t be nearly as fun if she knew I wanted to trap her into this exact situation, anyway.

I whistle tunelessly, my hands jammed in the pockets of the sturdy workpants Druze lent me when I made my way back to Long Leaf Brews with an explanation of why I wouldn’t be there the next few days, or weeks, even.

Silent and stoic as ever, the huge dryad managed to fill up a pack of supplies for me as well as provide clothing more amenable to the journey Wren and I are about to go on.

As for Lila, she gave me a quick hug and told me to come back in one piece.

I find I like both of them much more than I should.

Dreadful idea.

I raise my hand to knock at the door to Witchwork’s Jewelry, slightly concerned that I haven’t seen my minx of a witch yet, when I smell it on the air.

A fucking fae.

A fucking Seelie Court fae, too.

Rage stiffens my back, and my eyes narrow as I peek into the shop windows, intent on finding the source of the offending stench. It’s empty, though, as far as I can see, but that awful rosehip and lilac perfume doesn’t lie.

There’s a Seelie fae in there somewhere.

“Right on time,” a voice chirps from behind me.

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