Page 10 of Kiss and Spell

He left the driver a huge tip and the highest rating on the app before exiting the car. Xavier entered the house, walked through the foyer, and went into the parlor.

There he found Whitney sitting on the full couch, her head bent down in thought. She looked like a sparkly cat playing with a massive ball of bright yellow yarn jumbled in her hands and most of her lap. He studied her for a quiet moment. Whitney’s thick, curly, graying hair was worn in a practical style that showed off her heart-shaped face and prominent cheekbones. Her black skin shimmered as if glitter was fixed to her. She wore a magenta set of pajamas, and her feet were encased in fluffy slippers. Her wings, as delicate and transparent as gossamer, peeked from behind her back. A mixture of adoration and sadness churned within him. Everyone he cared for and knew was back in the Realm, waiting for Xavier to come home.

That meant Whitney was the only family he had in this world.

She looked up from her task. Her face brightened. “You’re back. How was it?”

“It was okay. I had a nice time. You didn’t have to stay up for me.”

“It’s fine. I was finishing a project.” Whitney held up the tangle of yarn, her metallic hook looped in one of the stitches. She made a face. “It was going to be a scarf, but I think I dropped a loop or five.”

Xavier sat next to Whitney. “I see you’re enjoying your retirement.”

Whitney snorted. “I’m semiretired, thank you very much. Besides, you never really stop granting wishes, but it’s about time I slowed down. My wand isn’t as fast as it used to be.”

Xavier observed while Whitney fiddled with the crochet hook as she silently counted the stitches. Their relationship was simple, yet complicated. Whitney Blackthorne, a faery godmother who had been granting wishes to humans over the last four hundred years, was Xavier’s real godmother. The instant he gave his first smile, she was there covering him with kisses and baby-friendly glitter. Whitney took the role seriously, helping raise him when his parents were away on diplomatic trips in the Realm, sending him care packages filled with homemade baked goods when he was away at boarding school. When he was a teenager, she didn’t grant his wishes, much to his heart’s dismay, but she gave him endless advice. It was Whitney who took Xavier into her home here in Freya Grove when the curse had grown unmanageable and threatened to destroy his family’s reputation. A sudden thought filled his chest with icy fright.

How long will it be until the curse ends up hurting her too?

Whitney’s hiss of anger interrupted his musings.

“This yarn isn’t going anywhere.” Whitney dropped the project and regarded Xavier. “So, tell me about your date. How was Suddenly Cinderella?”

He hated to disappoint Whitney, but—to borrow a phrase—he had to be real with her.

“Cindy is a wonderful woman,” he said gently. “If I ever want to perform a romantic monologue, then she’s the first person I’ll call. We didn’t connect.”

“I was sure she’d be perfect for you.” Whitney clicked her teeth and sighed sadly. She must have gone through a lot of trouble convincing Cindy to meet with him, and he’d been a disappointing date. A twinge of displeasure rose in his throat.

He swallowed it down and gave Whitney a gracious grin. “Her happily-ever-after is waiting for her, but she won’t end up with me.”

“Oh well.” Whitney glanced over at the wall clock over the mantel. She made a clucking noise. “You left seven hours ago. Where have you been?”

“I went for a long walk.”

Whitney rubbed her hands together in eagerness. She’d encouraged him to explore the town more, but he’d been busy going on dates. “So, how do you like the Grove?”

He hesitated for a heartbeat, trying to decide on the right words. Whitney might have adored the Grove, but this town was his unfortunate way station.

“It’s charming… but it’s not home,” he said finally. Silence enveloped the room.

Freya Grove was nothing like the Faerie Realm, where anything a fae desired would be delivered to their hand by magic. Xavier had possessed the ability to get whatever he wanted at a moment’s notice. He’d be in bed reading, snap his fingers, and a steaming cup of sweetened coffee appeared right on his nightstand. No small talk. No awkward interactions. Just wonderful caffeine. Here, in the human world, he had to go outside the house and meet people. Discuss the weather. Have his name misspelled on a paper cup by a chatty barista. This place was… interesting to say the least. His magic was greatly weakened in the human world, forcing him to work a little harder than he was used to. He could rouse weak houseplants and conjure small flowers, but he couldn’t revive an oak tree or a dying vine. Bitterness stormed through his blood.

He was hardly pleased with his sudden change in circumstances. Things were so easy within the Faerie Realm, and he craved to go back once he got rid of this irksome problem. To break free of this curse, Xavier had to gain the one thing he’d never been interested in keeping—love. It was as if the Faerie Queen had asked him to find the rarest gemstone on Earth by digging with his bare hands.

He frowned deeply.

“What’s going on?” Whitney leaned forward, her attention solely on him. “You got that someone-stole-my-fae-dust look on your face.”

In the Faerie Realm, Xavier didn’t worry about things like dating, courting, and wooing. As a fae prince of the esteemed House of Alder, his story was already written. It was assumed Xavier would court a princess from a neighboring kingdom. She’d be biddable, make an agreeable marriage partner, have an heir or two. They’d live out the rest of their lives in a castle overlooking a garden landscape. Easy. Simple. Now he had to make up a whole new story.

What were the chances that he was going to find his perfect kiss? A billion chances? How long would he have to go on random dates, hoping to find the one who could release him from this romantic drivel? Uncertainty made his hands shake with barely controlled irritation.

“There has to be another way to end this nonsense.”

Whitney shoved the yarn away. Weariness clouded her eyes. “Please, Xavier. Enough.”

Enough was never enough for him. He was an Alder fae descended from kings and queens, blessed by stardust and morning dew. There had to be something else he could do without having to resort to finding his so-called true love. “I could write a letter to the court, or personally plead my case.” His mind raced. “Maybe if I spoke to the Queen again and… apologized for my behavior, she might—”

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