Page 3 of Falling in Love with A Tiny Bat

That sounds like a threat. “Does your father know about this?”

“Pollux is not my father.”

I smile as I take a bite of my strudel. “I neversaidPollux, so even though you’re a faerie and can’t lie, he is at least the person you think of when I sayfather.”

“I am much too used to the comparison, and you are a very distracting individual.”

“You won’t trick me into thanking you. I know that thanking the fae provides access to a person’s soul.”

His head tilts, again, in the other direction. “I hadn’t intended my comment as a compliment.”

“And, yet, I totally took it as one.”

He smiles. The action is pristine and controlled, as though painstakingly practiced. “To return to pressing matters, do you recall the dryad planting that occurred last fall?”

“Yup. Your little sister mentioned it at school.”

He loses his pretty smile. “Meda is not my little sister.”

I point my strudel at him. “Again, I didn’t name her.”

Tugging on his sleeve, he glares. “She’s myoldersister.”

Ah, yes. Funny thing, fae ages. Even though Andromeda looks like she’s eight, she’s only existed for three years, and according to information she’s given me about herbig brother Alexios, this twenty-something-looking fantasy of a man is less than a year old.

Maybe he can’t have strudels. I should offer him baby food.

I know how to make it from scratch…because…yeah.

Let’s just say I was very invested in my adoption journey, butit always came down to that one little, outdated diagnosis. Iget it. Really. I do. It’s about the child, not the adult who wants a child. Just because I know I’d be a great mother doesn’t mean it looks like I would on paper. And paper is what agencies have to work with in order to give children the best chance they can.

Alexios places a hand at his mouth and murmurs, “You distracted me again. Where was I?”

“Dryad planting.”

“Yes, right. Every so often, the dryads plant young saplings with the hope that one might sprout into a new sister.”

“And this past planting, Pila—the youngest dryad—sprouted a baby girl. I know. She let me hold Terra at one of Willow’s movie nights even though they’re both too young to drop their glamours for me to see them. All I can remember from the experience is the aftermath.” I was crying. In the aftermath, I was crying. I shove another bite of strudel in my mouth. “I’m offended that my ability to hear the glamoured fae doesn’t help my brain compute physical interactions with them.”

Alexios stares at me, hand now clamped to his mouth.

I stare back as I finish my extremely nutritious breakfast. “What?”

“You stole part of my script.”

“Your…script? Did you memorize what you’re telling me?”

His head dips in a nod. “I’ve been practicing in the mirror for a few days.”

Given that the fae really can’t lie, this tidbit isdelightful.

Alexios regains his footing, opens his mouth, and gets interrupted. By me. “So, is it difficult for you to talk to people or something?”

His brain lags and reboots. Finally, he says, “Cheeky. You’re doing it intentionally now.”

“Cheeky?” Leaning against the counter, I plant my chin in my hands. “Who?Me?”

His gaze drops off my face then pulls away.

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