Page 17 of Fairies Never Fall

I vowed never to be in that place again. Nothing, not even facing a whole secret world full of monsters, is going to put me back there.

8

LYSANDER

The human saw my true form.

I knew right away, before I spotted the cord of an amulet around his neck. His eyes kept flickering away, then back to me. His pulse fluttered in his neck. When my fingers brushed the coarse valleys of his knuckles, the swift intake of breath gave him away completely.

In place of the familiar knot of worry in my throat that comes whenever I’m in his presence, a new fear took up residence.

Does he find me different? Horrifying?

For some reason the answer becomes important to me, yet at the same time I’m loathe to know it. Syril said he’d give the human an amulet, but the true meaning of the action didn’t strike me until the moment I saw him, and he saw me. Saw me fully.

I have far more urgent problems. Nightmares, enemies on my tail, a foggy, uncertain future. Yet the thought of his firm gaze twisting away from me in revulsion turns my stomach. He’s been the only one to speak normally to me in so long.

The only one to touch me in years.

That night I sit in my hammock awake for no reason at all. When I go down the next evening, there he is.

My fists squeeze in the folds of my pants, probably wrinkling the fine linen. I turn my back on the bar purposefully and go to a booth. The Sanctum is packed with stoneskins for a fire show tonight, and I can hardly see the bar through the crowd. I could have stayed upstairs — Orion would bring me a small glass of riigan wine to help with the nightmares. The kitchen is closed anyway, so it’s not like I need to be here to take my dinner.

I shouldn’t be disappointed when the one who appears at my booth is Plato, not the human.

“Your Highness.” Plato bows, and it’s neither the ironic bow Orion always gives nor the sincere one I get from Lilian. He gives me a smile that’s almost gentle and produces a second, smaller glass. Red, orange, and pink liquids are layered like a sunset, with a spiral of cream. Topping the cream is one of the candied cherries I not-so-secretly adore. “From Ezra. A little apology. The line’s keeping him busy.”

I will my wings to be still. “Of course,” I say tartly.

“I’m sure he’ll deliver your second round.” Now his eyes sparkle.

I huff. “That’s not necessary.”

The sweet cherry on my tongue makes me smile, though.

Ezra doesn’t deliver the second drink, even when the club quiets down. Plato gives me a rueful look this time and says nothing. Annoyance and worry spin together in my chest. Heisavoiding me. Do I disgust him?

Maybe Orion and Plato have told him about me — how I’m hiding in The Sanctum like a coward, relying on Syril’s dryad magic to keep me safe while my sister is out there at the mercy of our enemies. Worse than revulsion, even, is the thought of his gaze skipping over me in dismissal.

I’m no warrior like Elsabeth. I’m not clever like our mother was. I’m not brave enough to sacrifice myself like either of our parents. I’m just me, a bundle of neuroses with frivolouspastimes like reading and costume-making. Perhaps the human has realized he doesn’t gain anything from being friendly.

I can’t hide forever. Sunday is my night to fly. In spite of everything, the show still inspires a tingle of anticipation in me.

Uncharacteristic nerves seize me as I pull on my costume in the dressing room. Normally the show grounds me. It doesn’t matter to me that I’m standing on stage in front of the entire club because the performance calms my always-racing thoughts. The ritual of preparation. Bear’s calm presence. Being cradled firmly in the ropes until I can no longer make any choices about where to move, I can just let go, knowing I’ll be held in place.

When Syril first proposed the whole thing, I was highly uncertain.Bondage? I was a late bloomer — I hadn’t even entered my fertile age. The idea of getting involved in sexual play seemed silly.

Besides which, Bear simply refused to tie me up at first.

“A fairy? No fucking way, Syril.”

I’d heard him through the office door. I’d only been here a month, and I’m ashamed to admit Bear’s gruff demeanour frightened me. Isolated as I was, spending most of my life in safe house after safe house, I had barely even met a gargoyle before, let alone a dragon. I was eager to write off the whole idea. Until Bear came out of Syril’s office and saw me quivering by the entrance.

He’d let out a growl of annoyance.

“You need it,” he told me.“I’ll do it. But I won’t be your full time Dom, so don’t expect that from me.”

I didn’t know what he meant by needing it — I thought him highly presumptuous. I didn’t need someone todominateme.

---