Page 41 of Yearning For Her

No, no. That isn’t right.

Like a cunning fae eager to trick victims into foolish bargains or play magical pranks, the internet could be misleading. There was misinformation everywhere, while important tidbits of truth hid behind obscure pathways. One needed to be careful. One needed to be specific.

Kian tapped the backspace button and amended his search.

Dinner with mortals.

Yes, that was better. He wanted a communal experience, didn’t he? He wasn’t simply going to set some food before his female and watch her eat. That wasn’t how they did things. Though the idea of eating mortal food remained as unappealing to him as ever, it would probably benefit him to keep up pretenses while they were in public.

But he paused again before pressing the icon. “Dinner with mortals, Kian? That’s not how they fucking think of themselves, is it?”

With a huff, he tapped the backspace button several more times.

Dinner with people

“Now you’re thinking like a human.” Grinning, he pressed the magnifying glass and perused the results. His brow furrowed. “Recipes for large groups? Sixty-plus easy dinners? Family recipes? What the fuck?”

He held the button that activated the phone’s voice recognition. Once the tone sounded, he said, “I wanted ideas for where to take a mortal to dinner, not instructions on how to cook for a family of five, damn it.”

“I’m sorry,” the phone said in its unnatural, feminine voice. “I’m not sure what you’re searching for.”

“And humanity is afraid the computers will overtake them one day?” Kian muttered. “How are fae not masters over this realm?”

The phone made its chiming sound. “This is what I found for ‘mastering old elms.’ Is this what you’re looking for?”

A list of links appeared on the screen, most of which were related to the care of elm trees.

“I can’t decide whether technology like you is the result of human incompetence or demonic ingenuity.” Turning off the voice recognition, he returned to the search window and typed furiously.

What do mortals like?

What to feed mortals humans?

How to woo court seduce impress mortals humans

His eyes flicked to the clock at the top of the phone’s screen. He was running out of time. With the vastness of eternity stretched out before him, how could he possibly be running out of time?

Dates for with mortals people

He selected a link labeled ‘Ten fun first date ideas!’ and scrolled through it quickly. Listed between the intrusive and overwhelming advertisements—another demonic innovation if ever there was one—were activities like miniature golf, go kart racing, painting and wine nights, and, oh so helpfully, dinner.

Hand trembling, he drew his arm back and only barely stopped himself from throwing the phone across the room. His heart was thumping, and an uncomfortable heat skittered just beneath his skin.

Nervous. He was nervous.

How the fuck was he nervous?

Because he had to leave now to get to Willow’s by eight, but he hadn’t figured out where to take her. Because he existed in the mortal realm, but he’d never truly been part of it, had never truly been part of their lives.

And never had his relations with anyone, whether human or fae, meant as much as this did. Never had he wanted so much. Never had he needed so much.

Somehow, he knew it was more than hunger. It was more than that need for sustenance.

He forced himself to place his phone in his back pocket, stopped at the mirror to check his clothes, and snatched his keys from the tray on the counter. He paused at the doors of the private elevator, glancing around his residence.

The dim lighting and sleek, smart furnishings should’ve made his penthouse apartment the height of taste and luxury, but it lacked something. It lacked…heart. And it had never felt so cold, so sterile. Why had that changed so suddenly? This was his sanctuary, the one place across all realms where he could be at ease, where he could be himself. And yet for all his money, for all his years of life, what was there to show for it here?

This place didn’t have even a fraction of the character present in Willow’s house. The only room with any life was his art room, and yet something had always compelled him to keep it closed, separated from everything else.

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