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

by Tavia Lark

“You’re as much use as teats on a fish,”

“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.

“Don’t worry, I may be a wild fae, but I only bite on invitation.”

“Let’s start easy. How old are you?” “Twenty-four,” Folly says. Yarrow stretches his legs out, trying not to show his relief. Twenty-four is good. Young, but twice as old as twelve, and unlikely to die of old age before they reach Elladar.

Perhaps Yarrow will get the chance to kill Roland someday. It will have to be an accident, since Haelwen has rules about murdering mortals and meddling between realms.

Folly doesn’t want to be a pet or a dependent. Or any sort of foolish creature led around by the collar and leash of his own desperation. He’s an anxious mess of a person, but he is a person.

“I need you to know you’re amazing. I was entranced tonight, watching you light up the party. I’ve been entranced since you tried to stab me in Elsewhere. You’re smart and special, and that’s a good thing.”

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

this is Crocus. She’s a crazy mushroom farmer, and she’s my mother.” “I’m not crazy!” Crocus protests. “The mushrooms are crazy.”

“Summer’s tits, you’re so fucking hot.”

Yarrow stares. “You weren’t unconscious?” “Pretending to be unconscious is very easy,” Folly informs him. “You just don’t do anything.”

She handled the news that Folly killed her former lover, who wasn’t actually a satyr, with surprising ease. “Oh, dear boy, that must have been so stressful for you!” she had said, handing him a mushroom cookie.