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One who rules the sky. A Fae with obsidian-blue hair and darkly hued lips. A monster who wields a javelin and plays a devious flute.
One who rules the woodland. A Fae who sprouts antlers from a thicket of red waves, his limbs tapering to a pair of cloven hooves. A monster who wields a longbow and strums a lusty cello.
One who rules the river. A Fae with an onyx mane and gold serpentine eyes so harsh they’ll blind you at close range. A monster who wields for...
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“Under the vicious stars, an Owl crossed paths with a Lark. And the Lark said—”
And the Lark said, “We may fly separately, but let our direction be the same.”
Costumes hang from pegs. An owl mask and a pair of moth wings. A crown of deer antlers, a fox muzzle, and a cloak of porcupine quills. A seahorse tail and a serpent visor with a forked tongue.
“You’re one of The Three. You’re the one who rules the sky.” The Fae smirks. “Come now. You make me sound vicious.”
“Though it’s a pleasure to know you haven’t been claimed yet.”
“You’re hardly afraid.” He leans in and hisses, “Shall we change that?”
“My name’s Lark,” I say. His blue lips crook to one side. “Call me Cerulean.”
One, a mountainous incline of stone steps framed by scalding torch poles.
Two, a woodland arcade of oak trees, where a ribcage of branches balances flickering candles, showcasing a path strewn with toadstools.
Three, a stream flanked by glowing lanterns, with flat rocks trotting down the watery center. The serpentine current rushes into a tu...
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Lark Juniper Cove
Mutinous Lark, your task is painfully simple. Don’t look down. Watch your step. Fear the wind. Follow the wind. Lose your path. Find your way. Welcome to The Solitary Mountain.
A Fae boy in a feathered mask, giving me a long look before fleeing into the wild. Him, my one and only secret, even from my family. Him, my one exception.
That visual flashes again, of me and a Fae boy separated by bars, our positions reversed. I’d breached a deadbolt that night to enter a glassblower’s forge, where the boy’s cage had been stored. I’d used a feathered quill to jimmy the lock.
Finally, the tears leak down my face, my voice reduced to a whimper. “I miss you.”
I miss him. I miss that masked boy, the exception to my rule, the Fae who’d turned my hate into something precious. Something lost.
My eyelids flip open. Reeling my lower body, I hook my thighs on to Cerulean’s waist and flip him over quicker than a griddle cake. Then I land right on top of the fucker.
“She was miraculous and devastating.”
I see pointy ears. I see a boy who’s not a boy.
His gaze slackens, processing what I’ve done. A single digit drags along the side of my jaw, sharp and tender, resentful and affectionate. I close my eyes, feeling the gentle sweep of his touch—and then his lips.
“Where are my sisters? What’s Juniper being forced to do?” He blinks from our trance, his expression morphing into nonchalance. “That is up to Puck, not me.” “What’s Cove being forced—” “And that is up to Elixir.” Puck. Elixir.
The other two rulers of this realm. One of the woodland, in the depths of the forest valley. One of the underground river, where channels rush into natural tunnels.
He glances at me. “You’re unlike anyone, Lark.”
“Truth be told, I helped rescue the fauna, but I did not save myself. I have her to account for that.” Her. It’s a her.
budge. The one who helped him escape was a mortal. He was locked in a cage, in Reverie Hollow, and a mortal girl set him loose. This is no coincidence.
I hold up the plume. “I’ll give you this feather if you tell me something about it. The quill once belonged to a Fae. Is he alive?” “Yes,” the Horizon choruses. “Where do I find ’im?” “You already have.”
“Your memory is strong. However, that is not why you felt a bond.”
“You felt a bond because you’re inextricably linked.” “Come again?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. “You kissed him, did you not? That cemented this fate.”
“But a human who shares the purest of kisses with a member of the Folk will be intricately attached to that individual. You may call it a bond.”
“What link?” I draw out. “As in, fated? As in, mates?” When the Horizon makes no reply, I growl, “Does he know about this? He may not recognize me, but he remembers the girl who saved him. Does Cerulean know he’s bonded with her?” “He does not.”
“Dammit, don’t say that. You’ve got kin to save! You’ve got a mountain to preserve!” “And I’ve got a mortal to love.”
You’re worth…” he sucks in a tremulous breath, “…every crack in my soul. You’re worth the loss and longing.”
“Nor to do with being your mate.” I tense. “How did you know…?”
Mates. I’d called us mates.
You cannot assume I’ll stand aside and watch you suffer!
My glorious jackass of a mate has been making appearances at every turn, and now he decides to pull a disappearing act?
“Why?” the female demands, her throat filled with gravel. “Why, Cerulean?” “Because I love her,” he confesses.
But at his petrified stare, doubt worms into my stomach. That’s when my eyes skate toward what’s left of his wings. They’re in tatters, the plumes stripped to their rachises and exposing the torn membrane.
What I’m not wrong about is that cord. It can only support one of us. I slide my gaze over to Cerulean’s and give him a weak smile. His eyes flare wide.
“No!” His lilt cracks, piercing the dawning sky. “No, Lark! I promise, I’ve got you! I’ve got you!” My words tremble. “You’ve always had me.” And that’s why I let go.
And then a force does capsize me. Another muted cry barrels from my throat as something—someone—lands on top of me and then inverts our positions by flipping me onto my belly. I bat away the dress and collide with wild blue eyes.
Cerulean plummets beneath me, suspended on his back while clasping my hips.
We hurl ourselves at one another. I whimper into his chest, and he sucks in terrified gulps of air, and we cling to each other.
And the Lark said, “We may fly separately, but let our direction be the same.”
“Because we’re bonded,” Cerulean supplies with a weak smirk.
Cerulean addresses them. “Because I don’t rule the sky.” I follow his gaze toward the fauna. “They do.”
It took us nine years to find each other, thirteen days to bond, and one hour to lose everything all over again.
