Page 36 of Apples Dipped in Gold

It sounded too wonderful to be true, which had been the case for everything in my life so far. The fae who had offered the knife, the prince who had offered for my hand.

“You cannot think I believe such a thing exists,” I said.

“I cannot lie.”

“Perhaps you cannot lie, but you do not have to tell the truth.”

Lore’s eyes narrowed. “Did the fox tell you that?”

I did not answer, but it was easy to avoid as we turned away from each other.

“I am telling you truthfully, the wishing tree exists,” he said when we met again. “But its magic only works on the first night of the full moon.”

I did not want to believe him, but he spoke with such sincerity, not only about the tree but also his curse. He seemed desperate to be free.

“That does not explain why I must make the wish.”

“You must make the wish because I am unworthy,” he said.

I stumbled, and Lore caught me. I righted myself, but he didn’t let go, his hands braced on either side of my bare arms. It occurred to me that he had yet to take off his gloves. I considered asking him why—though embarrassingly, it was only because I wondered what his skin would feel like against mine. If his palms burned now, would they set me aflame uncovered?

But something he’d said disturbed me more.

“Who says you are unworthy?”

He stared down at me, brows lowered. I couldn’t help watching his mouth and the way he frowned. I decided I did not like it, that I preferred when he smiled, even if the things that came out of his mouth were frustrating.

“No one must say it for it to be true,” he said.

“Then it can just as easily be false,” I said.

“It isn’t,” said Lore.

His words frustrated me, and I looked away. “I cannot imagine why you would choose me,” I said. “If we are speaking of worthiness, then I—”

“Your brothers are wrong,” Lore said, interrupting. “It is they who are unworthy. They who do not deserve you.”

“Just because you believe that doesn’t make it so,” I said.

We had stopped dancing, but the fae still moved around us, and I became highly aware of our proximity and the way I had to tilt my head all the way back to hold his gaze. I did not want to feel the desire curling in the bottom of my stomach. I did not want to like how his hands felt on me. I did not want to think about how his lips would feel pressed against mine.

Except that I wanted all those things. I just didn’t trust Lore enough to give them.

His gaze shifted to my mouth.

“It seems we are at an impasse, wild one,” he said.

“It would seem so,” I said.

Slowly, the elven lord lifted his hand, and I took a deep breath as his fingers brushed lightly over my cheek.

“Come with me,” he whispered. “I will show you your worthiness.”

I closed my eyes, unable to face him. I desperately wanted to believe him. His words were familiar, like those that had called to me in my sleep.

“Samara,” he whispered again.

His lips were so close to mine, I could feel their heat.It rushed down my throat and warmed my chest. I held my breath, trying not to think about what it would be like to close the space between us, to press my lips to his, to tease this passion burning inside me.

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