Page 29 of Fairy's Forbidden Touch
“Not resentment,” I assured him. “Just… questions. Lots and lots of questions about what happens next.”
“We have time for those,” he said, his cool fingers intertwining with mine. “Centuries, in fact.”
Centuries.The concept still hadn’t fully sunk in. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”
“As will many aspects of our shared life,” he acknowledged. “But we will navigate them together.”
As the celebration continued around us, I found myself thinking about the strange path that had led me here—from crashing on Maya’s couch after yet another life disaster to becoming bonded to the crown prince of the fae. It was absurd, impossible, and yet undeniably real.
“What are you thinking?” Thalen asked, noticing my distraction.
“That this might be the first impulsive decision I’ve ever made that actually feels right,” I admitted. “Like maybe I was making bad choices all along because I was trying to find my way to you.”
The patterns beneath his skin brightened at my words, and through our newly acknowledged bond, I felt the surge of emotion my statement had evoked.
“Perhaps the universe has been guiding you all along,” he suggested. “Leading you to that café, to that moment when you first touched me.”
“Maybe,” I agreed. “Or maybe I’m just really lucky that my cousin got tired of me sleeping on her couch and forced me to find a job.”
He laughed—a full, genuine laugh that drew surprised glances from nearby fae, clearly unaccustomed to seeing their reserved prince express such open emotion.
“Either way,” he said, his violet eyes holding mine, “I am grateful for whatever forces brought you into my life.”
As he leaned in to kiss me—in full view of the court, breaking who knows how many protocols of royal behavior—I felt thathum of connection intensify, the bond between us vibrating with shared joy.
Whatever challenges lay ahead—and I had no doubt there would be many—we would face them together, the human and the fae prince, bound by magic but choosing each other freely.
Epilogue: New Rules
Three months later
“You’re late,” Maya announced as I let myself into her apartment for our weekly dinner. “The pasta’s getting cold.”
“Sorry,” I said, dropping into my usual chair at her small dining table. “Court politics ran long. You would not believe how much debate can happen over the proper protocol for seating arrangements at a solstice celebration.”
She shook her head, serving generous portions of her signature garlic pesto pasta. “Still weird hearing you talk about ‘court politics’ like it’s normal.”
“Tell me about it,” I agreed, digging into the food. After weeks of fae cuisine—beautiful but often lacking in familiar flavors—Maya’s cooking was a welcome return to normalcy. “How’s the new job going?”
“Good! The firm’s talking about putting me on the Anderson account, which would be huge.” She studied me across the table. “You look different. Again.”
I self-consciously touched my hair, which had grown longer than I’d ever worn it before—a concession to fae aesthetics. “Too much?”
“Not that,” she clarified. “Just… you’re still changing. Something about your eyes.”
I avoided her gaze, focusing on the pasta. The physical changes had started subtly about a month after the bondacknowledgment—my skin taking on a barely perceptible glow in certain lights, my eyes developing tiny flecks of violet that were noticeable only up close. Thalen had explained it as the natural consequence of the bond—my human physiology gradually adapting to accommodate the extended lifespan and magical connection.
“It’s the bond thing,” I admitted. “Apparently, it’s still… settling.”
Maya took a sip of her wine. “And how’s married life treating you? Or bonded life, or whatever you call it.”
“It’s good. Complicated, but good.” I twirled pasta around my fork, considering how to explain the reality of dividing my life between realms. “Thalen’s been amazing, helping me navigate all the court stuff. And I’m teaching him more about the human world—we’re working our way through the Marvel movies.”
She laughed. “How’s he liking those?”
“He has very strong opinions about Thor’s portrayal. Apparently, the real Thor is ‘much more dignified and significantly less prone to emotional outbursts.’”
“Wait—Thor is real?!” Maya nearly choked on her wine.
