Page 3 of Fairy's Forbidden Touch
“You’ve got an admirer,” Pix teased one particularly busy night, nodding toward Thalen’s usual spot.
“He’s not admiring. He’s… surveillance camera-ing,” I replied, carefully preparing a complicated order for what appeared to be a cluster of tiny woodland spirits sharing a single enormous coat.
“He never watched the other servers like that,” Pix insisted. “Trust me, I’ve been managing this place for seventy-three years.”
I nearly dropped the sugar tongs. “Seventy-three?!”
She waved dismissively. “That’s like college-age for my kind. Stop changing the subject.”
The café was unusually crowded that night—apparently there was some kind of fae celebration happening, though no one would explain exactly what they were celebrating. I was rushingbetween tables, trying to keep up with orders, when disaster struck.
I was carrying a tray of drinks past Thalen’s seat when a small green creature with too many arms bumped into me. I stumbled, the tray tilted, and I instinctively reached out to steady myself. My hand landed directly on Thalen’s silk-clad shoulder.
The entire café went silent. Several customers gasped. Fern dropped a teapot.
I froze, my hand still on the prince’s shoulder, waiting for the searing pain everyone had warned me about.
Nothing happened.
Thalen was staring at my hand on his shoulder with an expression of absolute shock—the first real emotion I’d seen on his face.
“I’m so sorry,” I stammered, yanking my hand away. “I didn’t mean to—are you—am I supposed to be on fire or something?”
The prince’s eyes snapped to mine, wide with confusion. “You feel nothing? No pain?”
“No? Should I?”
Around us, the café remained dead silent, every magical creature watching our exchange with expressions ranging from curiosity to horror.
Thalen stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He was close enough that I could see flecks of silver in his violet irises, close enough to smell something like winter storms and night-blooming flowers.
“This is… unexpected,” he said quietly, almost to himself. Then, without another word, he placed payment on the counter and swept out of the café.
The moment the door closed behind him, the place erupted in whispers.
“What just happened?” I asked Fern, who was staring at me like I’d grown a second head.
“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “But that’s never happened before. His touch has injured everyone who’s come into contact with him since he was a child.”
“Maybe he’s fixed whatever makes him all burny?” I suggested.
Fern shook her head. “Wild magic can’t be ‘fixed.’ It’s part of what he is.”
The rest of the shift was uncomfortable, with customers alternating between avoiding me and studying me with newfound interest. By closing time, I was exhausted and confused.
“Go home,” Pix said kindly. “Whatever that was about, I’m sure it’s nothing.”
It didn’t feel like nothing.
Maya was already asleep when I got back to her apartment. I collapsed onto the couch, replaying the moment in my mind. The shock in Thalen’s eyes. The strange electricity I’d felt when our eyes met.
What makes me different? And why do I want to touch him again?
That night, I dreamed of violet eyes and moonlight hair. In my dream, I wasn’t just touching his shoulder. My hands were exploring smooth, cool skin that warmed beneath my touch. In my dream, those perfect lips parted in pleasure, not shock.
I woke up hard and aching, tangled in the thin blanket Maya had grudgingly provided.
Great. Just what I need. A crush on a magical prince who’s been watching me like I’m some kind of science experiment.
