Page 3 of Prince of Flowers
“Why,I can hardly believe the unmitigated gall of a human — a pitiful human, of all things — to summon me, pluck me out of the ether.”
My mouth hung open as I stood there in shock, as I studied the malice in the lines of his face. I should have noticed how his pants weren’t actually made out of leather, but something that appeared to be plant matter.
I should have noticed the pointed ears.
This man was fae. I backed away uncertainly, unsettled by the discovery. The fae had left the Earth for centuries, only recently returning to our reality. Why they left, no one could rightly say, and why they returned was even more hotly contested by the supernatural community, the denizens of the arcane underground.
We understood far too little of the fae and their realm. What was widely known, however, was that these creatures were dangerous. Blisteringly hot, I had to confess, but dangerous nonetheless.
I gave him the response that I’d been practicing in my head. “It was a summoning spell. I just reached out and asked for whoever would answer because I sensed you nearby. And — ”
“And what?” he said, snapping his fingers to hurry me.
I pursed my lips. Okay. I didn’t care how hot this man was. Being beautiful didn’t give him any license to be such an entitled asshole.
“I already explained my side to you,” I answered through gritted teeth. “I don’t know what else you want to hear from me.”
He stood arms akimbo, emboldened by how nervously I was responding. This fucking guy. He quirked his eyebrow, his chest thrust out — oh gods, his chest — as he preened up and down the clearing. He prattled, too, complaining endlessly, his mouth going a mile a minute. More of a strutting rooster than the all-powerful entity I was hoping to contract.
Was this guy really the same invisible thing that was moving through the clearing, leaving traces of its power on the wind? I could hardly believe it. But the energy around him was unchanged.
Mythical creatures, magical beings, they all possessed their own arcane signatures, a sort of pattern by which you’d recognize their presence. Perceiving these patterns was something that came more readily to someone trained in magic, like me. Sufficiently enough, at least, to know the difference between a shift in the wind and a powerful creature passing through the forests of the Wispwood.
But this was just some dude who was far too big for his britches. Even though those britches, which, on closer inspection appeared to be made out of moss, fit him really well. A little too well, in fact. The way he turned from side to side as he paced arrogantly back and forth gave me a very clear view of his ass as well as his package.
I drew my eyes back up to his face, reminding myself yet again that I was out here in the woods trying to look for an eidolon, a partner to help me earn my Crest, and not a hookup. As if I would ever hook up with someone who was as big a prick as this.
But speaking of big pricks.
Gods, I could have slapped myself. I bit down on my tongue, trying to focus on the fact that this guy was kind of an asshole. Maybe I could release him and unbind him from the spell, let him go on his merry way. He could go back to wherever he came from. The Verdance, perhaps, the realm that the fae called home. Free once more to hit the gym and take infinite selfies, or whatever it was that gorgeous fae men with terrible attitudes like him did in their spare time.
The man rambled on and on. My thoughts returned to the clearing as I caught the end of what he was saying.
“And there I was, minding my own business, and whoosh — as if something had plucked me from a great height. Like I’d fallen.” He narrowed his eyes as he stalked toward me. Close. Dangerously close. “I’d fallen because of you,” he said accusingly.
Fallen for you, the stupid autocorrect feature in my brain told me with a whisper and a titter. I shook the thought away, meaning to give back as good as he could dish out.
“What have I done?” I asked, looking him up and down, wanting him to feel my derision cut into his skin. “Of all the things I could have summoned, you showed up. Gods above and below.”
The fae man’s eyes went wide as he broke into mocking laughter. “Gods above and below, he says. Where are these precious gods of yours? No. Power belongs to those who stand firmly upon the earth of this realm.” He stamped his foot in the grass. “There. Like so.”
I had a hard time distracting myself from how he really wasn’t wearing anything much apart from those pants. Those pants, my hamster brain reminded me again, that he was wearing so exceedingly well.
“This place is not for the gods,” he said conclusively, like his words were gospel.
I drew myself up, resistant, defiant, despite not really giving one or two shits about the gods myself. “Then it’s meant for humans. Clearly. We were here first.”
The fae man scoffed. “Not for long.”
He crossed his arms, the muscles in them bulging. It was getting harder and harder to avoid staring at the sight of so much flesh, his skin smooth and perfect, his body rippling with tight muscle. How could someone so breathtaking be so foul?
But wasn’t that what everyone said about the fae? It was in their nature to be so beautiful in unearthly ways, and yet so malicious and cruel. I hadn’t spent five minutes with the first fae I’d ever met and he was already ticking all the boxes. Aloof? Check. Arrogant? Another check. I never expected the fae to be so damn obnoxious.
“Whatever this is,” I said, putting on a bored expression, rotating my hand at the wrist dismissively, “I don’t think I want any part of it. I’m a summoner, someone who forges pacts with powerful creatures, supreme beings of arcane might. Not random men who strut around the woods half naked while flapping relentlessly at the mouth.”
Again the man scoffed. He seemed even handsomer in anger. How very annoying.
“If you’re looking for powerful beings, arcane might? Then look no further.” He lifted his chin, one eyebrow cocked. “Don’t you know who I am, human?”
