Bound to the Wild Fae (Fortune Favors the Fae, #3)

by Tavia Lark

“I’m Folly.” Yarrow grins. “That’s an ill-omened name.” “It’s a nickname.” Folly winces. “My parents named me Philostrate.” “Folly’s a great name,” Yarrow amends.

“Are you this nervous with everyone, or just extremely handsome fae like me?” Yarrow gives a calculated wink. “Don’t worry, I may be a wild fae, but I only bite on invitation.” Folly drops a fishbone on his knee. “Um,” he says, brushing his trousers with the clean side of his hand. His hair falls into his eyes. “Yes. I’m always nervous. Um. Please don’t bite me.” Pity. He looks delicious, for a human⁠—

No more flirting until he confirms whether Folly is twelve or ninety-three. Somewhere in between would be nice.

Folly is used to imagining worst-case scenarios, but the fae realm is proving more creative than he is. He’ll have to update his mental compendium of catastrophes.

Yarrow can’t imagine meeting this little human without wanting to take care of him.

He never imagined the tiny, timid human would relax like this in his presence. Or that humans were so fascinating. Or that he would come to dread being freed from one.

Or they could have lifestyle differences. Like if Yarrow invites people over too often. Or plays the tambourine late at night. Or secretly eats people.

“What are you afraid of?” Folly whispers. “Right now?” Yarrow hitches Folly’s legs over his elbows. “Nothing.”

“If he can imitate her that well, I’ll just give up and call him Mother.”

“I’m about to meet your mother,” Folly says faintly. “I’m so sorry,” Yarrow says, and steers Folly towards the cottage.

The curse will be broken, and Folly’s heart wavers at the crossroads, afraid of success as well as failure. Fuck them and leave them, Crocus said. Folly doesn’t want to be left.

when Yarrow wraps him in a hug. Folly clings, closing his eyes. Hard to believe he once tried running away from Yarrow. Right now, Folly never wants to let go.