Curse of the Wolf King - Tessonja Odette Page 0,111
my forehead. “I’ve been alive over a thousand years, and yet never have I truly lived until now,” he whispers. “Is this what it’s like to open myself to the array of emotions and feelings and experiences humans have to offer?”
I prop my chin on his chest to look at him, tracing the line of his bearded jaw with my forefinger. “Is being in your unseelie form truly so different?”
“Yes, and I always carried pride about never having shifted into my seelie form.”
“Are many fae like that? Remaining in their unseelie form their whole lives?”
He nods. “Long ago, that’s all we ever were. There was no seelie or unseelie. We were all just creatures and spirits. We were more than animals but very different from humans. But when humans came to the isle, their presence began to change us. Some of the fae began to model themselves after humans, adopting their voices when they were taught human language, reshaping their bodies when they tried on human clothing. The ability to take seelie forms was born from that, and emotions and other human feelings came next. But not all fae considered it a gift. Those who maintained their original forms called themselves unseelie, and this divide led to unrest amongst the fae, fueled the wars we had with the humans. It pains me to say I spent my entire life fighting for whatever side pitted me against the humans. If I’d ever had my way, the humans would have been annihilated, or at least banished from the isle.”
His words chill me. Remembering the trickster wolf I met when I first came searching for thirty-three Whitespruce Lane, it isn’t hard to imagine that version of him being as cold and cruel as he says. But it hasn’t been long since he last expressed disdain for humankind. Could he truly have changed so much? Or is it only me he’s come to value amongst my people?
He seems to read the concern in my expression and rolls to face me. “You’ve changed me, Gemma. Changed me in a way I never thought I’d want. I never thought I’d want pain or pleasure. I never thought I would choose both over the freedom that ignorance brings. And, yes, it’s changed the way I judge your people. While I’ve yet to meet many I consider worthy of my respect or affection, I’m willing to believe your previous assertions are true—that not all humans are the same.”
I bring my palm to the side of his face, and he angles his head to plant a kiss on my wrist. “You’ve changed me too, Elliot. You’ve reminded me what it means to trust, reminded me that pain in my past doesn’t mean love can’t exist in my future. It feels stupid now, realizing I nearly let one man close me off to the experiences of life.”
“Does that mean you won’t leave anymore?” A flicker of vulnerability crosses his face. “You can, Gemma. I know how much you miss your home country. I will not keep you here, no matter how much I love you—”
I press my forefinger to his lips. “I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here. Independence doesn’t require running away and being alone. I can have freedom and still live amongst others. That doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven human society, but I have a feeling there’s more to Faerwyvae than what my experiences have shown me so far. And even if I were to discover every city on the isle is just as stifling as Vernon, well…I’ll still have you.”
“Yes, my love. You have me. So long as I live, I am yours.” He kisses me, his hands roving my back, as if seeking undiscovered lands he hasn’t already laid claim to. I do the same in turn, feeling his flesh, his muscles, his hair, tasting the salt of his skin. A spark of desire returns, and we continue to fan its flames late into the night, until we’re too tired to move a muscle. Until we fall asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.
When I wake up, I’m alone.
It takes me a moment to remember where I am, seeing the unfamiliar bedroom beneath the light of the rising sun creeping through the windows. Then it all rushes back to me, and I relax, images of last night’s pleasure replaying in my mind, making me squeeze my thighs together. I roll onto my side, arm outstretched, seeking any sign of warmth left in Elliot’s wake. But his side of