Viciously Yours (Fae Kings of Eden Book 1)

For the past couple of months, Rennick woke every morning before dawn and spent bonding time with his familiar, Greta, a large, snowy white owl. He’d lay in his room with his eyes closed and tap into their bond.

Greta’s thoughts felt similar to Amelia’s emotions traveling down the mating bond, but clearer. With emotions, it could be hard to decipher exactly what the emotion was and what caused it, but with familiars, their thoughts and feelings came through like a sixth sense.

That morning, he’d let Greta lead them wherever she wanted, and when she flew through the barrier into the Human Kingdom, he’d expected their connection to sever. But it didn’t. She admitted she was curious if it would hold since he was only fifteen.

You could have told me that’s what you were doing, he’d grumped down their bond.

Greta ignored his attitude. I didn’t want to get your hopes up.

Rennick made a mental note to ask his father more about the limits of their familiar bond.

After his connection to Greta survived the crossing of the barrier, it’d taken him a moment to realize the implications—the possibilities—but once he had, he knew exactly where he wanted to go. He and Greta agreed to get a quick glimpse of Amelia and leave.

Over the years, Rennick had asked Finn what his mate looked like, and Finn, being Finn, said she was tall, blonde, and pretty. That was it.

That morning, he’d watched the girls from the orphanage walk to school and, just his luck, there were two equally tall, blonde girls who looked his age. They walked together, separated from the others, and a tiny, big-eared fox trotted beside them. Rennick had no way of knowing which girl was his mate.

But the more he watched them, the less he cared who was who because he couldn’t take his eyes off the one whose face lit up as she talked, moving her hands more the more excited she became.

She was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Looking away felt impossible, and when a classmate called her name outside of the school building, confirming she was Amelia, everything faded to the background until only she remained.

Once Amelia went inside, Greta perched on a branch outside of Amelia’s school. That was hours ago. Yet Rennick still stared through the owl’s eyes, completely mystified.

Tall windows lined both sides of the school building, giving him a perfect view of his mate. He greedily soaked up everything he could in the short amount of time he had.

When the class broke for lunch, most students left, but Amelia and her friend from that morning stayed at their desks. His mate reached into an old lunch pail, pulled out a book, sandwich, and apple, and set them neatly on her desk. Her hair swung with the movement, and Rennick longed to run his fingers through it. She wore a simple blue dress that strained against her soft chest and hovered well above her ankles.

Everything she did mesmerized him, even the way she ate her small sandwich.

Is that all she brought to eat? he wondered with a frown.

Greta bristled, no happier with Amelia’s meager lunch than he was. Feed your mate.

I will, he promised the owl, who was poised to attack if anyone tried to take Amelia’s apple.

Seeing Amelia for the first time was unlike anything he’d ever experienced, and he knew, without a doubt, that he would love her more than anyone had ever loved another.

Letter #24

Hello, Love,

My imagination did not do you justice. You are beautiful.

Yours,

Nick

P.S. Are the other girls at the orphanage taking your food? I’ve included a basket of things for you to keep in your room, just in case.

Amelia stared from the letter in her hand to the giant basket of food sitting on her desk, unsure which oddity in his letter to address first.

He said he’d seen her, but how? She always assumed he used magic to deliver the letters, but maybe he slipped in and out of her room without her knowing? No, that couldn’t be it because he claimed to not have seen her before now. Nothing about Nick and his letters made sense.

She glanced down at her body. Why did he think she was starving? Once again, she had the uneasy feeling that the letters weren’t meant for her. After two years, he still hadn’t used her name.

The only thing giving her hope was that he always wished her a happy birthday. She didn’t know when the other girls’ birthdays were—birthdays weren’t celebrated at the orphanage since some of the girls didn’t know theirs—and she didn’t want to ask, afraid of the answer.

She stared at his signature. Nick. “Who are you?”

The paper crinkled slightly in her hand when she pressed the letter to her chest, hating that she couldn’t keep it.

Nick wrote to her every month, and a few months ago, she’d held onto one of the letters and tried to copy down what it said, but it’d been plucked from her fingers and disappeared into thin air before she’d finished the first line.

Sighing, she stared at the paper despairingly. “Can’t I keep this one?” she whispered, hoping the letter-stealing magic would take pity on her. Her finger traced over the words she’d never forget.

He called me beautiful.

In her peripheral, she saw something, or someone, flicker in and out of existence. She blinked, sure she’d imagined the teenage boy who looked at her over his shoulder before disappearing again, leaving the letter behind.