Page 36 of Fairies Don't Fall

I should be worried about the connection I was developing with a werewolf that I needed to cultivate in a consort, but it felt too good to resist, so I fell asleep instead.

“We need to talk,” Max said over breakfast the next morning. We were sitting on the mats eating fairy gruel, just like the remaining fairies who had stayed to help the last of the poison victims. The ones who weren’t entirely recovered had beenmoved to the hospital, the Bellham in the upper city, but most had walked out on their own.

I looked up at Max. Had he noticed the way I sucked up his energy like a sieve? Was he going to tell me to keep my distance from now on? Would he say that since I wasn’t a pixie dust addict, I wasn’t his duty? I smiled. “Definitely. Where did you get your recipe for this gruel? It’s delicious and revitalizing.”

His eyes narrowed. “You spent too much of your energy on healing. All of it. You were passed out for two days. You need to learn how to use your power more intelligently. If you’re going to heal, you need to learn how to do it right.”

I blinked at him. That’s not what I’d expected. That’s something Vervain would say. Max cut his steak with his knife and took a large bite. I stared at his mouth while he chewed, the lips that were formed so beautifully and showed so well on his freshly shaved chin. He’d showered and shaved this morning in the men’s changing room, but he didn’t smell like bubblegum. “That’s a good idea,” I finally said. Vervain would agree vehemently and continue with a lecture that went on for months. Years. He hadn’t really stopped that lecture, actually, just paused it sometimes to interject something else I should be doing.

“It is. I’m going to give you your first reading lesson, and it will be a healing spell.”

I glanced over at the gruel lady to see if she was within hearing distance. Probably not. I leaned closer to Max and whispered. “I thought your beast was going to teach me.”

He leaned forward so our foreheads were almost touching and whispered, “I am my beast.”

“I have some errands to run,” I whispered again.

“Why are we whispering? Also, as part of your rehabilitation, you are required to take care of yourself so you aren’t burnedout all the time. Two days you were passed out. Two days.” He leaned back, shook his head, and tsked at me.

I felt guilty, but not in the same way as usual. “But I’m not a Pixie dust addict.”

“And that’s why you had all the symptoms of a dust addict detoxing. Two days,” he added with a frown.

I batted my lashes at him like I was Shotglass. “Did you miss me terribly?”

“Terribly. And then I had to overextend myself, so I didn’t look apathetic about my own pack compared to Princess Sparkles. As an aside, my beast doesn’t think you’re running away from queenship to save yourself. You don’t have the slightest sense of self-preservation.”

“Your beast? I thought you said that you were him.”

“Yes, but sometimes his opinions about some things are stronger than mine.”

I pointed at him. “That literally makes no sense.”

“Are you saying it’s impossible?”

“I’m saying…” I sighed and took a large bite of the delicious gruel of perfection.

The reading lesson gave me a headache until he moved closer and his arm brushed mine. That connection helped me focus. I could almost hear his thoughts with him so close, about the shapes of the letters, the sounds they made, the meaning that came out of it when the pieces were put together.

The first word of the spell was ‘Sanitorius,’ and it took me a very long time to sound out all the letters and then combine them into one whole, weird word. When I finally managed, I looked up at him, feeling like a victor. His answering smile and twinkling eyes were like a punch to the gut. His mouth was close enough that if I leaned forward a few inches, I could taste him. He smelled so good. For a second I swayed towards him, then with a jerk, I brought myself back to sanity and stood up.

“I need to go on my errand,” I said, edging towards the door. I couldn’t get too close to someone I couldn’t ever make my consort. The entire fairy court would rebel. I might get exiled. No, I wouldn’t, they’d just give me dirty looks and contempt for the rest of my existence. Someone might try to kill me while I was sleeping. Max. They’d try to kill him. My fairies knew how to kill wolves. Maybe I should teach him how to not be quite so soft. No, I’d leave him here and go to Fairyland on my own. Obviously.

“Shall I come with you?” he asked politely.

For a second, I almost thought he meant Fairyland. I smiled brightly. “It’s fairy business. I’m going to the bank.” I’d picked up enough from random fairy thoughts about funding to know that’s where you went for that kind of thing. I still wasn’t sure why Shotglass wanted me to go in her place to get her hat shop funding, but there were so many things I didn’t understand.

His brows rose. “The bank? How startlingly conventional. In Sing or Song? Most places in Song are cutthroat, but many in Sing are run by goblins. Less visibly treacherous, but still dangerous.”

“I’ll be very careful. Thank you for the reading lesson, or thank your beast for the reading lesson?” I smiled and then turned away, but he grabbed my wrist, only for a moment before he released me and returned my smile with his own mild one.

“Why don’t I escort you?”

“Because I don’t need an escort. This is fairy business. I already said that.”

His smile vanished, and he studied me with calculation, like he was considering whether I might be tempted by pixie dust after all. Finally, he held out a small rectangle. “Take this phone. Push this button, and then touch the picture of my face if you run into any trouble. Physical, emotional, magical, or whatever other kind of trouble you could get into.”

I frowned at the phone. “It’s a communication orb without the orb?”

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