An answering smile melts over my lips. I’ve really come to adore his praise. “And I suppose it would be much faster if we were in unseelie form. Assuming you can shift at will now?”
He winces. “About that…today was the first time I shifted intentionally, and it wasn’t the easiest feat. Maybe it will get easier one day, but for now, I can only do it when I connect with my fae magic, and I’ve spent most of my life doing the opposite.”
“How did you manage today?”
“Well, I was fucking angry about the Modesty Committee, and that sparked feelings of…of my passionate love for you.” He blushes when he says the last part, which is so charming I could bite him.
“Ah,” I say with a nod. “We need to get you hot. Want to see my breasts?” I’m already unbuttoning my waistcoat while he stammers to form an incoherent reply. By the time I have my blouse open and my bralette raised, he’s ceased even trying to argue.
His mouth drops as he drinks in the sight of me. “I’ll never get tired of this view,” he says, striding closer with the hunger of a man ready to pounce.
I halt him with a pointed look.
“Ah, right. Shifting, shifting.” He stares longingly at my breasts a few beats more. “Yes, I can use that, just give me a moment.”
I press my lips tight to keep myself from laughing at the amount of concentration that twists his features, paired with the fiery lust in his eyes. Just when I worry his efforts will come to naught, a shudder tears through his frame and he drops to all fours.
With a delighted squeal, I press my palms to my cheeks, staring down at the fennec fox he’s become. I know I’ve already seen him like this once today, but he truly is criminally adorable. I crouch down to study him closer, from his enormous ears to his long whiskers. He’s so cute it makes me want to squeeze his giant head, crush his tiny little bones, and chomp him to bits—out of love! Out of love, not hunger. I want to chomp him to bitsmetaphorically. It’s hard to explain, but I am struck with the undeniable urge to squeeze him with all my might.
“My dear,” he says, tone wry, “are you going to keep staring at me like you might have me for dinner or are you going to join me already?”
“Oh, right.” I close my eyes, turn my attention over to my inner hunter, and shrink down into my pine marten form.
Monty’s eyes go rounder. “Aw, look at you,” he says, voice soft. “I haven’t seen you like this in so long.”
“Keep up if you can.” I spring ahead, scampering down the trail. Monty catches up with me in a matter of seconds, and we race across stones and dirt and fallen trees. As we’re running alongside a stream, I sense his eyes locked on me.
“You’re really pretty, Daph.”
I angle my head toward him. “Are you falling in love with me in unseelie form now too?”
“Maybe—urp!” Monty crashes face first into the dirt, his hind legs snagged on a stump he’d tried to leap over while looking at me.
I hiss with laughter.
He scrambles to right himself, not a hint of the elegant aristocrat, only the clumsy fox. “Don’t judge my lack of agility. This is only my third time in unseelie form and only my second time running in it. My legs are tired from chasing you across town.”
Despite his defense, I can’t stop laughing, so I take off running again, and he keeps close to my side, baring his teeth in a vulpine smile.
It doesn’t take longto reach Cypress Hollow, and we decide to remain in our unseelie forms as we enter. We pass beneath the trellised ivy-tangled archway that serves as the entrance to the town and step onto a brick walkway. The trees are only somewhat sparser here, but most of the architecture is built between, around, or inside the wide trunks. Strings of warm light weave overhead, strung from branches and towering boughs, creating a canopy of illumination. Nostalgia hums through my entire being at the sight of the market just ahead. It’s in full swing every day until sundown. We join the busy throng of fae creatures bustling between buildings and stalls. The architecture is bright and colorful in every shade of yellow, blue, and green, the style closer to something one would find in a human farming town with deeply sloped roofs, exposed wood framing, and barn-style doors. The main difference is the size. Every building is in proportion to the average size of the fae creatures who reside here. Were we in our seelie bodies, it would look quite miniature.
Monty studies our surroundings with an awed look, his ears down and back as we pad across the brick walkway and between other furry bodies. “This is incredible. I can’t believe you don’t feel overwhelmed here.”
I skip ahead, then frolic backward for a few paces so I can study the look on his face. “It was very overwhelming when I first moved here from the solitary quiet of my tree burrow. Now it’s just home to me.”
“Daphne, is that you?”
I recognize the wizened female voice at once. Whipping back around, I catch sight of a large black mustelid with a wide silver-gray stripe along her head and back. We may be of the same genus, but a honey badger is much larger than I am, and fiercer too. She has the highest kill rate in our village and is famed for eating venomous snakes twice her length with her afternoon tea.
“Elder Rhisha,” I say, bowing my muzzle in respect.
“You’re rather early,” she says in her creaky, crotchety voice. “You normally only come back for Lughnasadh.”
The first pinch of anxiety I’ve felt since entering the town strikes me now, reminding me what I came here to do. I hold her gaze without falter, trying not to focus on the sharp teeth that hang over the sides of her muzzle. “There is an issue I want to address as soon as possible. I should have done it sooner, and I’m not willing to put it off any longer.”
She huffs. “Does it have to do with this friend you’ve brought this time?”
“Apologies,” I say, stepping aside to give Elder Rhisha a better view of Monty. “May I introduce my…”
