Page 18 of Fated Wings
Despite everything, the complications, the danger, the impossibility of it all, Vaughn found himself smiling. This small fae with his fabulous hair and self-deprecating humor was somehow worming his way past defenses Vaughn had built over centuries.
“So…” Vaughn uncrossed his arms. “What happens now?”
Newt moved closer, stopping just short of touching. “I don’t know. I just know I don’t want to go back yet.”
Vaughn found himself reaching out, fingers tracing the curve of Newt’s cheek.
“Then don’t,” he said simply.
No law superseded a mating. Even if one of them decided to walk away, to become that tradable commodity or sink deeper into madness, they would only come right back. Their mate bond was already too strong and only growing deeper.
Chapter Five
One of Newt’s spells must’ve gone all willy-nilly and trapped him in some crazy dream. He’d met a wolf shifter who’d been nicer to him in just a few short hours—despite trying to squeeze him to death—than his father had been in his entire lifetime.
That kiss they shared? It was Newt's first and undoubtedly the most exhilarating moment of his existence. He just hadn’t had the guts to tell Vaughn the real reason he’d stopped his mate from groping him. It had nothing to do with his current situation back home and everything to do with his lack of experience.
Newt had been a hair’s breadth away from exploding like fireworks just from that two-second palm against his groin.
But he needed to go home before Hershel discovered he was missing.
Glancing to make sure Vaughn was still in the bathroom, Newt closed his eyes, concentrating on the image of his bedroom back home. After everything that had happened with Vaughn, he needed to return and figure out what to do about his arranged marriage. Running away wouldn’t solve anything, but if he told his mate what he was about to do, Newt was certain Vaughn would stop him.
“Please work right,” he muttered. “Just this once.”
He traced a circle in the air with his finger, whispering the incantation that would create a portal home. Magic tingled through his fingertips, warm and electric, as gold light spiraled upward from the carpet. So far, so good. Newt stepped through, the portal snapping closed and vanishing behind him with a sound like a balloon popping.
“This is…definitely not my room,” he muttered.
Heavy burgundy curtains blocked most of the morning light, casting the room in a crimson glow. Antique furniture loomed like silent sentinels—a massive four-poster bed, ornate dressers, and what appeared to be actual candelabras.
Then the smell hit him. Copper and musk with an underlying sweetness that was both alluring and deeply wrong. Vampire. The same scent he’d detected during last night’s forest chase. Newt swallowed hard, mouth suddenly desert-dry.
“Oh, fuzzy toadstools,” he groaned. “Not again.”
His stomach clenched painfully as acid crawled up his throat. Every instinct screamed danger. He tucked his wings tight against his back, pressing them flat until they melded with his skin. No need to advertise the most vulnerable part of his anatomy to predators.
A figure lay motionless in the center of the bed. Dark hair splayed across silk pillows, chest rising and falling in slow, rhythmic breaths. Newt’s heart hammered so hard he feared the sound alone might wake the sleeping vampire. Could vampires hear heartbeats? He couldn’t remember. His education on vampires had consisted mainly of “avoid at all costs,” not detailed biological information.
But it wasn’t just any vampire scent. One of the ones from last night. His nostrils flared involuntarily, taking in more of the nauseating smell than he wanted.
“Oh no, no, no,” Newt whispered, his voice barely audible even to himself.
Just back away slowly. With excruciating care, he inched toward the bedroom door. Each step felt like walking through molasses, his body moving with painful slowness. The floorboard beneath his foot let out a creak that might as well have been a thunderclap in the silent room. Newt froze, barely daring to breathe.
The vampire stirred, rolling onto his side with a soft groan, one arm dangling over the edge of the mattress. He slept deeply, unaware of the fae who’d just magically appeared in his bedroom.
But that wouldn’t last for long.
Another careful step. Another creak, softer this time. The vampire’s breathing remained steady.
Newt continued his glacial progress toward the door. His muscles were tense with the effort of moving silently. The carpet muffled his footsteps, a small mercy in this disaster of his own making.
His fingers closed around the doorknob, cold metal against his sweating palm. With excruciating slowness, he turned it, wincing at the barely audible click as the latch released.
Newt eased it open just enough to slip through, wincing at the slight squeak of hinges. He slipped through the doorway, easing the door closed behind him.
The hallway beyond was mercifully empty.
