Separating her from this place would be like draining her veins of blood. “To where?”

“The mortal realm.”

Gasps sounded; some of her cousins tittered. He might as well have sentenced her to hell.

She would go from proudly displaying everything that made her a Lorean to hiding her very species from prying mortal eyes. From the order the fey so cherished to human chaos.

Saetth said, “We’ll see if my hothouse rose can survive among primitive humans.”

Lips drawn back from her teeth, she said, “Careful, cousin, this hothouse rose intends to flourish and grow sharp thorns.”

More gasps.

Saetth’s eyes flickered with excitement. He leaned down and said, “I am counting on it.”

“And if the fey-slayer finds me, what then?” Rune Darklight, a homicidal archer and one of the Møriør, was murdering the Sylvan line of succession. Lila was one of only fourteen left.

This castle had a barrier to keep Møriør out; she’d be vulnerable anywhere else.

“Test your new thorns against him,” Saetth said. As if any of the monstrous Møriør could be fought! “If you’re truly the queen I deserve, you’ll figure out something, I’m sure.”

“How long until I can return?” Six months? A year?

“Should there come a time when you can prove your loyalty to me through great personal sacrifice, I will provide you the chance to take your rightful place by my side. Until then, wait for my word. . . .”

TWO

The Happiest Place on Earth

Present day . . .

Lila stood on the balcony of the castle in her cornflower blue ballgown and sparkling tiara, gazing out over the nighttime beauty of her magic kingdom.

As a balmy breeze coaxed light-brown strands from her chignon, the kingdom’s symphony started to play below.

She sighed, reliving her last ball. The scent of roses and candlewax had filled the air as Saetth twirled her around the immaculate ballroom.

Closing her eyes, she collected her skirt with a gloved hand and swayed—

“Step into the magic!” a human announced over the PA system, snatching her from her reverie. “The magic of Walt Disney World!”

Too bad Lila’s life was all make-believe.

She got paid to dress up like this. Her fairy-esque ballgown was polyester and covered with candy smudge prints from the mortal children who touched it with reverence: Are you weally a fairwy pwincess?

I am. I really am. The pointed tips of her ears were expertly hidden beneath her coiffure.

Loreans kept themselves secret—revealing paranormal activity to humans resulted in severe punishments—so a theme park filled with security cameras was an immortal’s worst nightmare. To elude Rune the archer, she’d decided to hide in plain sight, taking a gig as a “face character.”

After each shift, she came to this balcony in Cinderella Castle and pretended her tiara was real.

Fearing discovery by the archer and by mortals, she maintained no friendships or social life. No love life. Outside of work, she would go running—slowing her natural pace—then hole up in her drab apartment to speed-read or complete another online degree.

A young couple below caught her eye. She sighed with longing when they started making out against a wall. The things she’d seen in this park . . .

She’d never had sex—some part of her must still believe she could become queen—but she’d risked fooling around more and more since she’d started transitioning to her full immortality.

As all of her senses heightened to a supernatural degree, so did her lust. Loreans called this stage “overstimulation.” Lila called it “in heat.”

Even from this distance, her enhanced eyesight could spy tiny details. The bite of the woman’s nails into the man’s shoulders, his subtle thrusts against her . . .

Suddenly, the tips of her ears began to twitch. Wariness filled her. Another Lorean neared—

“A fairy princess pretending to be a fairy princess?” a deep voice said from behind her.

Saetth. Stay cool, stay cool. Calm the hell down! “Took you long enough, cousin.” Turning to him, she craned her head up. Lost her breath.

Dressed in full court regalia, he wore a tailored, fawn-colored suit that highlighted his rangy frame. Amusement lit his riveting blue eyes. Golden blond hair tumbled over his forehead just so. His sword scabbard accentuated his royal air, and his crown still sat proudly upon his head.

He was the epitome of masculine perfection.

Fucker. Take away the fact that he’d exiled her and she’d spent more than a decade cursing him . . . I’d do him. Of course, at this point in her development she wasn’t very choosy.

“Calliope, you’ve grown into a vision.” His gaze roamed over her. “What’s this—do your eyes now match?”

“A contact lens.” Her appearance required approval before she was allowed to mingle with park guests. Her mismatched eyes would never make the cut. “Why are you here?” Take me the hell home. All I want is to go home.

“How about a proper greeting for your betrothed?”

Betrothed. Was she truly still in the running for queen? Her heart tripped, but not because of any lingering love for him.

Lila was in love with the idea of having as much control over her own life as possible. Of not constantly looking over her shoulder for the Møriør.

Being a ruler would give her the most safety and control she could ever hope for. “Are you still my betrothed? I wouldn’t know since I haven’t heard a fucking word from you.”

A hint of a grin played on his lips. “Has little Calliope developed an even tarter tongue since she’s been away?”

Tarter? You have no idea, cousin. Her exile had only fueled her temper.

“And yet I wager it will taste so sweet.” He grasped her shoulders and drew her closer. To kiss her?

She’d wondered what this would be like for far too long. Especially of late. Even when she’d kissed other guys, she’d dreamed of Saetth, unable to deny he was probably her ideal match, socially, royally—and sexually.

Had he imprinted on her in some way?

He leaned down. As their lips made contact, fireworks exploded.

The eight-o’clock fireworks show. Not so much with the kiss. She’d experienced more heat making out with the mortal who played Goofy.