Page 40 of Tempting the Fae Lord
Rest is the farthest thing from my mind. I’m finally on the other side of the gate, but it’s not how I imagined. Ezra is nowhere to be found, I can’t see a single star, and the first being I meet here is fae.
She turns and strides confidently into the trees, trusting I’ll follow, which I do, because unfortunately, she’s the only lead I have.
Hopefully, it’s not a terrible decision to jog along after her.
Chapter Twelve
Gale
Sonja livesin a small cottage half-buried in the hillside. If she hadn’t led me here, I’m not sure I’d have spotted it. Moss grows on the roof, and trees block the view of the circular wooden door in the front.
The little dwelling buzzes with her magic. I sense it like the air before a storm, raising the tiny hairs on my forearms. Though not particularly ominous, it’s a natural warning to proceed with caution.
“Have a seat.” She gestures toward a circle of velvet floor pillows. “I’ll put the kettle on.”
Questions hurtle through my mind, but I keep my composure as much as I can while flopping onto the floor and sitting cross-legged on a fluffy pink cushion. I take my bag off my shoulder, fold it into my lap, and glance around the cozy, one-room cottage.
Rust-orange walls, a midnight-blue ceiling covered in fairy lights, vining plants sprawling on every jewel-toned surface. Shebusies herself with a magical flame contained within a circlet of stones, making our tea.
To my discomfort, I realize the sitting area I’m in must also serve as her bed, and I feel a bit self-conscious about my boots, but when I look at them, every speck of dirt has vanished.
That’s some interesting spellwork she wields.
“Sugar and cream?” asks Sonja.
“Yes, please.”
It’s odd, the cordial atmosphere, yet at the same time, a thread tugs on the edge of my awareness. Something’s off, but I don’t know what.
She hands over a steaming cup of milky tea and settles across from me on a second pink velvet cushion. “All right, you first. How’d you get through that gate?”
“Why do I have to go first?”
“Because I don’t trust you enough yet.” She shrugs. “Nothing personal. I don’t really trust anyone.”
“Yet you’ll ask me to trust you.”
“Yes. That and the fact that someone must go first.”
I puff out a breath of frustration but give in easily enough. The sooner I answer her questions, the sooner we’ll get to mine.
“I’ve watched him cross several times.”
Her pupils dilate as I tell the tale. I’m careful to leave the important bits vague. For instance, I don’t tell her the phrase he spoke that I memorized, only that I used my blood and spoke to the gate myself.
“I think it understands somehow, in its own way, the intent of the would-be traveler.”
She hums. “Interesting. So the portal is sentient?”
“Maybe. I can’t say for sure. But I tried several things that didn’t work before it finally opened.”
“Let me see your hand.”
Instinct has me clutching the bandaged wound to my chest. “Why?”
“Just let me look.”
“It’s still sore, and I don’t have another cloth to wrap it if you mess up this one.”
