A tear slips down my cheek as I unfold the parchment and study the spell. I pull the dagger from my belt and draw it across my palm, biting back a whimper of pain as it slices my flesh. Balling my hand into a fist, I allow the crimson droplets to drip to the ground as I speak the ancient words of enchantment.
Warmth fills my body as long tendrils of magic unfurl all around me. The power of the spell whispers across my skin in a gentle caress as I focus my intent upon lowering the veil.
A spark of light flickers deep within, turning into a roaring flame. Energy rushes through my veins like wildfire, leaving behind nothing but ash in its wake.
I open my eyes as part of the veil shatters in a brilliant display. The faintly glowing magic scattering like flakes of snow, dancing in wondrous patterns on the wind as it swirls all around me.
With the barrier down, the kingdom of Anara is clearly visible on the opposite side. Tall trees with thick and twisted dark gray trunks weave together to create a dense forest. Their heart-shaped leaves of purple with tiny glowing white flowers sway gently in the cool night breeze. Fireflies flit back and forth, their bodies alight with a golden glow, lending an ethereal appearance to these magical woods. The stories I’ve heard of this place hardly do it justice. It is nothing short of enchanting.
My heart stops and then begins pounding as something moves through the dense vegetation. I still, squinting into the darkness as if that will somehow help me to see. The silhouette of a man comes into focus, and I gasp when I realize he is walking this way.
Still on my knees, I’m paralyzed by fear and unable to move. Glowing green eyes stare down at me. The silver moon casts just enough light to illuminate his short, black hair, the pointed tips of his ears and the sharp lines of his face. With a masculine, square jaw that could cut glass, and a sharp nose and brow, he is fierce and beautiful all at once—handsome in a way I have heard only the Fae or Elvenkind could ever be.
“Who are you?” His voice is deep and commanding. “What are you doing here?”
My entire body is trembling as I force myself to stand. My gaze travels over his form.
He’s so tall, the top of my head is barely level with his chin. Broad shoulders taper to a narrow waist. He’s dressed in a dark tunic and pants that appear to be made of the finest green silk. His clothing does little to hide the muscular form beneath. With a lean, yet powerful build, he is masculine perfection made manifest before me. Silver moonlight glints off something behind him, and when he steps forward my jaw drops. He has wings.
My breath catches in my throat. This man is Fae.
“Who are you?” He asks again, his expression thunderous.
“I—” I hesitate, afraid to give him my name. A cautionary warning, from my childhood, flits through my mind.
Never give a Fae or otherworldly creature your name. Names have power that can be used against you.
I meet his eyes evenly and square my shoulders, feigning confidence and bravery that I do not feel at this moment. “I will not give you my name.”
His brow furrows deeply as if he cannot believe what I’ve just said. He steps closer. “Give me your name, Witch, and tell me why you shattered this part of the veil.”
“Witch?” I give him an incredulous look. “I’m not a witch.”
His gaze drops to the bloody dagger in my hand and the spell parchment laid out before me. He arches a brow. “You may as well admit the truth. You used magic to break through the barrier—a crime punishable by death.”
I gasp and drop the blade as I gesture animatedly to the spell, all my earlier bravado gone under threat of death. “I know what this looks like, but I’m—I’m not a witch. I swear.”
Tipping his chin up, he stares down his nose at me imperiously. “I am Ryvan of the Fae Kingdom of Anara. I demand that you explain yourself.”
“You gave me your name?” I ask, disbelief lacing my tone.
“Of course, I did. Now, I command you to tell me yours and explain why you broke through the barrier.”
I frown. “I thought…”
My voice trails off as I think better of questioning his logic in giving me his name. After all, if names have power, he may have mistakenly given me power over him.
