Page 49 of How To Please A Princely Fae

I blink, something about his words catching in my brain, unsticking something I didn’t know was even stuck.

“Willow, Kieran!” a voice calls out, and I jerk away from his embrace like a child caught with contraband sweets. “There you are, come on!”

It’s Wren, Caelan stalking beside her. A medium-sized dog bounds next to the other fae’s long legs, and I tilt my head at it in surprise.

No matter how often I see the creature, it surprises me that he’s no longer old and decrepit, but a young, still-growing and lovely-looking dog.

“Heel, Boner,” Caelan scolds, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing.

A lovely dog with a truly unfortunate name.

Wren catches my eye and rolls hers. Fenn, her red fox familiar, races along the street, nose twitching as he sniffs furiously at the air.

“We’re not done discussing this,” Kieran tells me in a low voice, his eyes serious but warm. “You haven’t set any rules yet, and I fully expect you to tell me exactly what you need and want from me, darling Willow.”

Darling Willow.

I can’t quite keep from smiling up at him at the new title.

“Okay,” I say, feeling lighter just for having said my piece.

Maybe I should try communicating openly more often.

Who could say?

“Hurry up, it’s freezing,” Caelan gripes, holding the door open for the two of us.

As if it’s heard, a frigid wind gusts through the streets, blowing my hair around my face and sending The Listening Page’s wood-carved sign creaking as it swings overhead.

I frown.

The wind, even in Wild Oak Woods, cannot hear.

Can it?

Chapter 13

WILLOW

Ruby’s bookstore smells nearly as much like home as my own greenhouse and shop.

Something about the scent of paper and ink and many, many books will always feel like home, and I pause as the door closes behind me, breathing it in, soaking it in.

Kieran’s hand is at the small of my back, but he doesn’t push me ahead or tug at me in any way.

He’s simply there, a comforting presence, and one I’m suddenly intensely grateful for.

“We’ll get your memories back,” I tell him, tilting my face up to him.

“As you wish,” he responds, and glee rushes through me as he brushes his mouth against mine, a sweet, gentle gesture that’s just as delicious as everything he did to me in my kitchen only a short while ago.

“Oh, look at you two,” Piper coos, looking totally thrilled. Velvet, her deer familiar, is curled up by the stone hearth, where a fire roars in the grate. Comfortable chairs are arranged in acircle, and as far as coven meeting places go, The Listening Page is my favorite.

Especially since Piper still manages to provide refreshments.

Ga’Rek’s busy setting out trays of sandwiches and cookies, and there’s a large steaming pitcher of tea on an enchanted warmer on the low table centered between the chairs.

“Is it a coven meeting if non-witches attend?” Nerissa asks archly, tossing her black hair behind a shoulder as she glowers at all of us.

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