“But what if they can’t deal with it?” I muttered, voicing the concern that had been plaguing me all morning. “What if they see what I am and freak out? What if they don’t…want me anymore?”
I trailed off at the end, knowing I sounded like a sullen five-year-old. But Ash’s hold on me tightened, and he pulled me closer against him.
“Then you’ll be an orphan, just like me,” he said. “And we’ll find a way to get by.” His lips brushed against my ear, tying my stomach into about a dozen knots. “Together.”
My breath hitched, and I turned my head to kiss him, reaching back to run my hand through his silky dark hair.
The tatter-colt snorted and bucked midstep, not enough to throw me off, but enough to bounce me a few inches straight up. I snatched wildly for its mane as Ash grabbed my waist, keeping me from falling off. Heart pounding, I shot a glare between the tatter-colt’s ears, resisting the urge to kick it in the ribs and give it another excuse to buck me off. It raised its head and glared back at us, eyes glowing crimson, disgust written plainly on its equine face. I wrinkled my nose at it. “Oh, excuse me, are we making you uncomfortable?” I asked sarcastically, and it snorted. “Fine. We’ll behave.”
Ash chuckled but didn’t attempt to pull me back. I sighed and gazed at the road over the colt’s bobbing head, looking for familiar landmarks. My heart leaped when I saw a rusty van sitting in the trees off the side of the road, so ancient and corroded a tree had grown through the roof. It had been there for as long as I could remember, and I saw it every day on the bus to and from school. It always told me when I was nearly home.
It seemed so long ago, now—a lifetime ago—that I’d sat on the bus with my friend Robbie, when all I had to worry about was grades and homework and getting my driver’s permit. So much had changed; it would feel strange returning to school and my old, mundane life like nothing had happened. “I’ll probably have to repeat a year,” I sighed, and felt Ash’s puzzled gaze on my neck. Of course, being an immortal faery, he didn’t have to worry about school and licenses and—
I stopped as reality seemed to descend on me all at once. My time in the Nevernever was like a dream, hazy and ethereal, but we were back in the real world now. Where I had to worry about homework and grades and getting into college. I’d wanted to get a summer job and save up for a car. I’d wanted to attend ITT Tech after high school, maybe move to the Baton Rouge or New Orleans campuses when I graduated. Could I still do that? Even after everything that happened? And where would a dark, exiled faery prince fit into all of this?
“What is it?” Ash’s breath tickled the back of my ear, making me shiver. I took a deep breath. “How is this going to work, Ash?” I half turned to face him. “Where will we be a year from now, two years from now? I can’t stay here forever—sooner or later, I’m going to have to get on with my life. School, work, college someday…” I broke off and looked down at my hands. “I have to move on eventually, but I don’t want to do any of those things without you.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Ash replied. I glanced up at him, and he surprised me with a brief smile. “You have your whole life ahead of you. It makes sense that you should plan for the future. And I figure, Goodfellow pretended to be mortal for sixteen years. There’s no reason I can’t do the same.”
I blinked at him. “Really?”
He touched my cheek softly, his eyes intense as they gazed into mine. “You might have to teach me a little about the human world, but I’m willing to learn if it means being close to you.” He smiled again, a wry quirk of his lips. “I’m sure I can adapt to ‘being human,’ if I must. If you want me to attend classes as a student, I can do that. If you want to move to a large city to pursue your dreams, I will follow. And if, someday, you wish to be married in a white gown and make this official in human eyes, I’m willing to do that, too.” He leaned in, close enough for me to see my reflection in his silver gaze. “For better or worse, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me now.”
I felt breathless, not knowing what to say. I wanted to thank him, but those words didn’t mean the same in faery terms. I wanted to lean in the rest of the way and kiss him, but the tatter-colt would probably throw me into the ditch if I tried.
“Ash,” I began, but was saved a response as the tatter-colt abruptly came to a full stop at the end of a long gravel driveway that stretched away over a short rise. A familiar green mailbox balanced precariously on its post at the end of the drive, faded with age and time, but I had no trouble reading it, even in the darkness. Chase. 14202
My heart stood still. I was home.
I slid off the tatter-colt’s back and stumbled as I hit the ground, my legs feeling weird and shaky after being on horseback for so long. Ash dismounted with ease, murmuring something to the tatter-colt, which snorted, threw up its head and bounded into the darkness. In seconds, it had disappeared. I gazed up the long gravel road, my heart pounding in my chest. Home and family waited just beyond that rise: the old green farmhouse with paint peeling off the wood, the pig barns out back through the mud, Luke’s truck and Mom’s station wagon in the driveway.
Ash moved up beside me, making no noise on the rocks. “Are you ready?”
No, I wasn’t. I peered into the darkness where the tatter-colt had vanished instead. “What happened to our ride?” I asked, to distract myself from what I had to do. “What did you say to it?”