Page 85 of Perfectly Charmed Pixie

Parsnip

“I love you, Parsnip. My one and only.”

My breath got stuck in my throat. Obviously, I wasn’t a warlock, but I knew what that term meant. I was…I was Vander’s. He didn’t care about my colors. Vander didn’t care that I was little more than a pale imitation of what a social pixie should be. He didn’t care that I’d soon be jobless and most likely shunned. None of that mattered to Vander Kines.

I’d done the impossible. I’d fallen in love and found someone equally in love with me. And now, I was about to lose him.

Stripping a warlock of their abilities was tantamount to a death sentence. Vander wouldn’t die today, but he wouldn’t live as long as he should. Not even close.

“Your one and only?” the heartless fairy asked. “Have you bonded?”

Vander’s lost eyes bored into me, and he reluctantly answered, “We haven’t.”

“Then what happens to you will not negatively affect the pixie.”

Wait, what? Of course it would negatively affect me.

My heart pounded, my breath uneven and too quick. I felt dizzy. I’d thought we were safe, that we’d finally end this nightmare and go back to Vander’s. We’d contract a brownie healer, and my wing would be right as rain. All three of us would heal. We’d come through the other side of this, and Letty would spend the rest of what was left of her life regretting her choices. Or, more likely, plotting her revenge.

But now, all of that was moot. This fairy was going to strip Vander of his warlock abilities. The situation surrounding his oath-breaking didn’t matter. My wishes didn’t matter. Only the strict letter of the law.

Rage, hot and demanding, poured into me, filling up all my crevices and pushing away the cold. Pixies weren’t powerful. We weren’t feared. I was no match for Letty Fox, let alone a fairy, and that pissed me off. I should be able to protect Vander. This whole mess was my fault. If I’d never walked through the door of Warlock Wishes, he’d never be in this situation. Byx wouldn’t have been nearly killed, and…I never would have met Vander.

Goddess, I loved him. A million adoring fans couldn’t hold a candle to what one Vander Kines meant to me. The rest of the world could rot. They could laugh at me, shun or ridicule me. As long as I had Vander, none of that mattered.

And I was about to lose him.

“No.” The word started out small, barely audible, even to my own ears. But with each repetition, it grew louder until it became a shout.

The fairy ignored me.

Byx was too frightened for Vander to care.

Vander gazed at me with forgiving love.

Letty Fox didn’t matter. The ogre sleeping in the corner didn’t matter.

Only one thing did.

The glow emanating from the fairy’s hands changed from lavender to magenta, burning with intent. She raised her hands, aiming them at Vander’s center, at the source of his warlock abilities. A final “no!” screeched through my lips, and something inside me snapped.

No, that wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t a snap as in a break. It was a heaving outward, stretching until it consumed and surrounded Vander, snapping into place when it found its home, weaving into the very fabric of his being.

Strings of fairy magic raced toward him, but they didn’t get very far. Those streams of magic bounced away just as a swell of water dissipated when it hit a wall.

The magenta-colored strands briefly flared, and more magic fed into their tendrils. And still, nothing.

The fairy dropped her arms, and I moved around her, standing next to Vander, with Byx still firmly held within his arms. Vander’s hazel eyes shone with surprise, one of them partially swollen shut.

“Parsnip?”

I ignored Vander’s hushed question, facing off with the fairy who’d attempted to steal what equated to Vander’s soul.

“He’s mine,” I stated, sounding a lot like Letty a few minutes ago when she’d falsely claimed Byx. “You heard him. I’m his one and only.”

The fairy’s head slid to the side, shifting her hair. “But you are not bound.”

“Maybe not by warlock ritual, but I’m a social pixie, and I claim Vander Kines. He is mine, and you cannot have him.” Shoulders back, I desperately wished I had my colors back. My claim would be far more impressive if I looked like a pixie. I couldn’t even use my wings, but that didn’t matter. Nothing on the outside did. I was a pixie deep in my core, and nothing could change that. Not a gray color palette or a damaged wing.

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