Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire, #1)(38)

“I should have known it was a terrible guess based on the whole not being turned to stone thing. That and your hair is a darn sight prettier than the snakes they usually have.”

“I would have thought both of those were dead giveaways,” I said with a smile. The walk and the company left me carefree for the first time in a long time. It didn’t even occur to me until we’d traversed a few blocks that the enchantment might’ve had something to do with that emotion.

In some ways, it was a lot like being drunk. Only less likely to end up in a decision I’d regret.

We walked a few more blocks before curiosity finally got the better of me.

“Where exactly are we going?” I asked.

“Central Park,” he stated, matter-of-factly.

“I thought we were going to your place?”

“That’s correct.”

“Is it near Central Park?”

He looked at me like I’d asked a bizarre question. “No.”

“I don’t understand.”

A wide grin split his lips. “You will soon enough.”

We walked past a group of businesswomen and, without even trying to hide their blatant stares, at least three of the five turned their pristinely decorated heads to watch Aiden pass. Their blatant ogling was almost embarrassing.

“Does that bother you?” I asked.

“What?”

“When everyone gawks at you like that.”

“Lynnie, I’m attractive. People, especially humans, like to look at attractive things. If it improves their day, even by some small margin, who am I to refuse them that joy?”

“And you’re oh so modest about it,” I added under my breath.

He shrugged. “Modesty is a very human concept. If something is green, we call it green. Why should it be any different when it comes to physical appearance?”

“Because finding someone attractive varies from person to person and from time to time.”

“That is true,” he agreed. “Yet there are a select few who will always be considered attractive regardless of race, religion, or even species. Most fae fall quite readily into that category.”

“So what you’re saying is that you are just naturally beautiful?” I teased.

He rolled his eyes at me but chuckled under his breath. “We’re nearly there. It is just a little farther up this street.”

At the end of the block, we turned toward Central Park, and the assault on my senses began anew. Behind a stone wall, at the end of a sweeping pathway, stood a massive crystalline structure which seemed to rise almost naturally out of the grassy space. It was there, but then it wasn’t. Once again, my brain struggled to process the dual worlds layered upon one another.

“This is my court,” he said, gesturing toward the building that didn’t actually exist but was somehow right in front of us.

“But this is Central Park,” I whispered.

“You can see it can’t you?” he asked with an uncertain air. “The enchantment hasn’t worn off as yet, has it? It certainly shouldn’t have—you should be under the spell for more than twenty-four hours with the quantity you consumed.”

I turned back to face him and to gain my bearings, which proved to be a terrible idea. Sunlight filtered through his near-transparent wings, which seemed to quiver and shake slightly as though the nervousness printed on his face raced through every part of his body. The whole scene was like something out of a storybook, and my head hurt just trying to process it all.

“I can see it,” I said quietly. “I just don’t believe it.”

Humans walked over the lawn, crossing in and out of the structure seemingly without being impeded by the walls.

“You’re seeing the pathway between the human realm and the ethereal one. Try to focus on one world and only one. If you concentrate on the fae world, it will become the real one.”

I followed his instructions, concentrating on the walls of the building. Slowly the whole thing became less transparent, shifting into a solid structure. With my new sight, I could make out the two layers of the massive construction. The outer layer consisted of soft netting that stretched over the expanse of the area, providing shade and an additional barrier to the elements. The inside layer appeared to be the actual building itself and was made of an almost metallic compound that reflected not only a combination of colors of the rainbow but also gold and silver depending on the angle of the sun. Just like Aiden’s wings, the whole shell was slightly transparent. Overall, the sight was utterly bewildering and yet completely breathtaking.

As I concentrated harder on the fae world, the noise of the pedestrians, traffic, and New York, in general, seemed to fall away completely. The sound was tranquil, and the air was filled with the scent of crabapples and Kwanzan cherry. The only achingly familiar scent was that of magnolias, which seemed to snatch my conscious and twist my stomach for a moment before I was able to fight my way back from the past.

“It’s beautiful,” I murmured.

“It’s your home,” Aiden responded. “For as long as you want it to be.”




EVEN AFTER three days of living in the fae court in Central Park, I struggled with the sight of the two worlds pressing against each other every time I dared to venture outside. I’d discovered that as long as I was inside the building and I didn’t have to concentrate on one world or the other, it was actually effortless—pleasant in fact—to live among the fae.