love. The truth was that her mother had abandoned her for a human lover. April wasn’t sure who her real father was or if he cared she existed. Still, she’d fantasized about a parent’s love and imagined how she’d feel if one of them had died.
Chulah had stopped and sat on a fallen log, burying his face in his hands. He made no sound, but his shoulders shook. It was awful. It seemed never-ending. A desire to touch him nearly overpowered April. But she couldn’t—the Fae taboo was too strong.
Maybe just a little enchantment...enough to give him a bit of comfort. She hovered closer, planting a kiss on her palm and blowing it toward him on the wind.
He ceased the dreadful shaking and raised his head, bewildered. “Who’s there?” he whispered.
April had said nothing.
No human had ever noticed or spoken to her before. Not that she’d done much enchanting, but she’d seen the other Fae cast them. No human had ever questioned who was there and what they were doing.
Concluding she sucked at enchantments, April had drifted farther back into the woods. Chulah arose and brusquely swiped at his face with his T-shirt. “Thank you,” he said, thumping his right hand on his chest.
He was talking to her!
April hardly dared move as he returned to his family’s cabin. She’d probably fallen a little in love with them right there at age sixteen.
A large moan snapped April out of her reverie. Tombi stumbled to his feet, with Chulah supporting his weight on one arm.
“Let’s get you home. Annie will have you feeling better in no time.”
Tombi laughed ruefully. “The cure will be worse than the pain. I hate to think what bitter concoction she’ll brew.”
“Whatever it is, you’ll drink it and be grateful,” Chulah said firmly. “She’s saved your ass more than once with her herbs.”
They made slow, painful progress. April flew behind, in case there were more surprise attacks.
Chulah suddenly halted, as if he had sensed her presence. He pumped a fist in the air. “Is that you, April? If you had anything to do with tonight, I’ll...” He sputtered to a stop, his eyes flashing like lightning and his voice deep and rumbling like thunder.
So he’d guessed and made a connection that she was the creature he’d seen earlier—although he couldn’t know for sure. Pain washed over her in waves, drowning her in misery. He was so blind, literally and figuratively.
And maybe...just maybe...he wasn’t the man she’d thought him to be. Maybe that young boy she had connected to, the one so moved at his father’s death, yet so kind and caring with his family, maybe that boy had died over the hard years of battles and deceits and deaths. Maybe the hardened warrior he’d become had lost the ability to love and sense the beauty that skittered outside his peripheral vision.
If so, that would be the greatest tragedy of all. April slumped to the ground. If only there was someone for her. Someone who cared. Had cared about her her whole life and she just didn’t know it.
But there was no one.
She lifted her head, full of resolve. Chulah didn’t have to know this pain. This crippling loneliness. She knew that somewhere inside Chulah, the young boy he’d been remained. She just had to find him. Even if he believed the worst of her, even if he learned the truth and condemned her for killing his father, she still loved him.
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