Heart of the Fae (The Otherworld #1)(89)

“I thought I had imagined that first kiss,” he whispered.

“Did you?”

“I was drunk.”

“You smelled of whiskey.”

“I wasn’t entirely in my right mind.”

“I noticed,” she smiled. It was impossible not to touch his face, now that she knew he wouldn’t flinch away. The crystals were a tantalizing texture against the heat of his skin. “Would you have hurt Oona?”

“I have no way of knowing. The Fae are…precipitous at the best of times.”

“Easily angered?”

“Emotions do not come naturally to us, and when we do feel, it is a thousand times stronger than any other species.”

“Ah,” she whispered as he pressed his lips against her fingers. “That is why Boggart changed so much when she lost the hag.”

“And when she met you.”

“I am no paragon nor miracle maker.”

“No, but you are infinitely kind and you always remember to thank us for our services. Do you know how much that means to a faerie?”

“It’s what I would want them to do for me,” she replied. “They have given me no reason to not be kind. Their hearts are good and their intentions pure, no matter the cause. This has been my dream since I was a child, to sit here on the edges of a pool with kelpies and faeries surrounding me.”

“Then I am glad I could make your dreams come true.” He said the words as if she had given him a gift.

She rolled off him, planting her butt back on the cold rocks with a small smile on her face. “Did you say something about breakfast?”

“In truth, I forgot it at the castle.”

“Did you?” Sorcha burst into bright peals of laughter. “Stone, that was the entire point of this trip!”

“The entire point was introducing you to the kelpies,” he grumbled. But he smiled that sideways smile she recognized.

She pressed a hand to her stomach. “It was a magical experience I’m not likely to forget. Can I come back and see them again?”

“As long as you are with one of the Fae.”

“Why?”

“Kelpies serve their purpose. They are not good at resisting temptation.” He stood and held out a hand for her to take. “And you are most certainly tempting.”

She grasped his hand and did her best not to wince as the crystals on his palm dug into her skin. “But they aren’t dangerous to the Fae?”

“Not at all. They recognize us as one of their own. You, however, are human.”

Sorcha tucked a strand of hair behind her pointed ears. “My father used to jest that I had faerie blood, because of these.”

“If you had faerie blood, the kelpie would have known it. He tried to get you to climb atop his back.”

“It didn’t feel like he was trying to kill me.” She glanced over at the male kelpie who flicked his seaweed tail in their direction. “It felt different from that.”

“They have their purpose, and they know it well. He would have pulled you underneath the waves if you’d let him.”

Sorcha didn’t respond, but placed her hand on top of Stone’s forearm and let him draw her from the magical place. Her mind stayed with the kelpies, wondering if he would have harmed her after all. It didn’t seem like that was the intention.

Those dark green eyes had seemed almost sad. Sorcha couldn’t believe it wanted to hurt her. Rather more that it simply wanted to show her something remarkable.



Flour burst into the air in great white clouds. The brownie it struck stared in horror at the mess covering her apron, then narrowed her mouse-like eyes and twitched her elongated snout.

“M’lady!”

Sorcha covered her mouth with a giggle and let the remaining flour drop back into its bag. “Sorry!”

“You are not sorry! I watched you pick it up and throw it right at me!”

“You said you needed flour.”

“I said I needed help cooking! You’re making a mess!” The brownie tsked. “Whatever are we going to do with you, child?”

“Perhaps give me something to do rather than bother you.”

“Is that your game?” The brownie sniffed. “Working around the kitchens is no place for a lady.”

“I’m not a lady. I’m a street rat turned midwife who lives above a brothel! How many times do I have to tell you? Give me something to do with my hands!”

“I most certainly will not.”

“You could use the help,” Sorcha trailed the brownie around the table, tapping her soft head as she went. “I can bake bread, I can peel potatoes, I even used to make soup for the entire family. I think I could figure out how to make even more than that.”

“I’m not doing it.”

“Why are you so stubborn?”

The brownie whirled and brandished a wooden spoon. “Why are you so persistent? Go make yourself useful somewhere else, child!”

“Where? In the gardens? Cian’s already chased me out three times today!”

“Did he use the pitchfork?”

Sorcha rubbed her behind. “Yes.”

“Good. That’s the only way to get nasty little things like you to stay where they’re told.”