She blew out all of her candles, a yawn escaping while she trailed her hand over the banister as she took the spiral staircase to her bedroom. She was so tired, and nothing in the world seemed more appealing in that moment than a long night of rest in her comfortable, luxurious bed.
But she froze when she reached the top of the staircase, her hand gripping the rail so hard it cracked a little in her fist. The room was shrouded in darkness, but enough moonlight shone through the open curtains that she could see the outline of the stiff figure sat with his back to her on the edge of her bed. He didn't even bother to turn around at the sound of her gasp.
She hated that he'd caught her off guard, hated it with a passion. Why hadn't she sensed him up there? All faeries, even fallen, had excellent senses – especially when it came to intruders. No one had ever managed to creep up on Terelle before, and the fact that this stranger had. . . Well, it frightened her in ways that other things just didn't.
“Who the hell are you?” she demanded harshly, scrambling for a match to light the candles scattered across her dressing table. As soon as enough were lit, she span back around, not wanting her back to him for even a moment. She hid her hands behind her, appalled at the way they trembled. She was Terelle Mcalla Xmilar, niece to the Summer King of Zawavia, fallen faerie, leader of the New York City Outcasts – she did not tremble.
With the dim light of the flickering candles, Terelle could now make out his short, messy blond hair, the curve of his perfectly chiseled jaw dusted with a light stubble, a straight nose, distractingly pouty lips. Even sitting down, she could see the muscles straining against his dark gray t-shirt. He would be lean, she decided, if he were to stand – not too muscular, but definitely not someone to trifle with. She studied the bulge of his bicep, to the light spray of blond hair over his thick wrist, ending with his large, very capable looking hand, casually holding onto a gun.
Her defenses immediately rose, and she could feel what was left of the faerie in her rising to the surface. Her fingers sharpened into talons, and she knew the purple in her eyes would be blazing. “I said who are you?” she hissed. “And what the hell do you think you're doing in my home?”
He wasn't one of her Outcasts, and she didn't recognize him as one of the prisoners from the island. Which meant he was somebody completely new. How had he gotten into their magically hidden grounds? Tamitri and Xantherus, the gate guardians of Yarmac & Bogely's, would never allow anybody entrance without her permission. This stranger had somehow found his way inside with nobody knowing – though it had been attempted many times, it had never before been accomplished. Who was he?
The man tilted his head towards her just a fraction, glancing in amusement at her with hooded eyes. Her breath caught in her throat – one of his eyes was grass green, and the other a vivid purple. The same purple that ringed her own eyes.
It suddenly became all too clear why she'd been unable to sense him earlier – this man was a raechlen, the hybrid offspring of a human and a faerie. Relationships between humans and faeries were strictly forbidden, so raechlen children were incredibly rare, almost unheard of. They were born without wings, but had the strength, slow aging, speed and senses of a faerie. And like nature was trying to protect them, they were untraceable to other faeries, which was lucky for them because most raechlen were hunted down and slaughtered, seen as abominations.
But this raechlen, he appeared almost the same age as Terelle, maybe even a little older. Either he was incredibly skilled at fighting and staying hidden, or even worse, he was very connected. Perhaps both.
At least now she understood why Race had been able to sense her danger when she hadn't.
“My name is Isaak Wechsler,” his simple answer came finally, his voice spine shiveringly deep and gravelly. His accent was lilted, something Terelle wasn't entirely familiar with. German, maybe. He paused just a moment before speaking next. “I'm here to kill you.”
Goddammit. She really wished she'd worn a longer dress.
Track List
Blood On My Name by The Brothers Bright
I Never Told You by Colbie Caillat
Kingdom Come by The Civil Wars
We Are Broken by This, The Silent War
Far Away by Nickelback
Immortals by Fall Out Boy
Pompeii by Bastille
It's Not My Time by 3 Doors Down
Everything by Ron Pope
Breath by Breaking Benjamin
River Flows In You by Yiruma
This Is Home by Switchfoot
Anything Could Happen by Ellie Goulding
Look After You by The Fray
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue