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Leaf is standing in front of me. Still Leaf, but different. Slightly taller, and his hair seems to shimmer like silk catching the light. His ears are pointed. And his teeth… he is smiling, but his canines are longer, more pronounced, almost poking his bottom lip.
He reaches for my arm with hands I would recognize anywhere; even his fingers are slightly elongated.
He’s Leaf… but more elegant and rugged at the same time. More, more… regal. I’m looking at Leaf, Prince of the Forest right now.
The prince carefully drags his hands along my arm, starting at my elbow to my wrist. I stand there, limply, not quite sure how to take in this new Leaf standing in front of me.
Eventually, he lifts my hand to his mouth. “You are hurt.”
“It’s nothing,” I say, my own voice surprising me, raspy and low.
Leaf tilts his head, watching the tiny pinprick from the thorn bead with blood. Then, to my complete and utter astonishment, he brings my hand to his mouth and kisses it.
His lips are so soft.
Snatch your hand away. Move. Do something!
I remain completely still.
“Thank you,” is all I say before running as fast as I can back to my room.
30
Hollow & Home
“Icannot believe I’m doing this,” I say to Opita as she picks a few grapes off a stem.
“You really have no choice, do you?”
“I think he wants the human to win,” Tofina chimes in unhelpfully.
My hand clenches into a fist. “Ramona won’t be participating in the ritual.”
“I won’t be what?” Ramona approaches from around a twisting branch in the middle of the dome shaped ballroom. My breath catches at the sight of her. All toned muscles and perfectly curling black waves that have a sort of brushed out look. I fight the urge to comb my fingers through her tresses.
Her body is on display in a midnight black dress that hugs her curves, only flaring at the very bottom with a slit that runs from the top of her leg to the floor. Her toenails are painted red, ankles wrapped in a thin black lace up her calf.
Shoes have never been allowed inside the Palace of Truth. I’ve never before thought of this particular rule as something that could turn me on.
But here we are.
She puffs out her chest, and fuck me. Her nipples pebble beneath her dress. Instead of smacking my head into the branch, I take a long gulp of wine.
“I’m not doing what, exactly?” Ramona asks again.
Opita’s jeweled headpiece glimmers in the soft lighting. “Participating in the homecoming ritual.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, am I?”
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.” I step forward, brushing my hands against my dark green tunic. Underneath the mesh material are layers of opulent necklaces and gems. The seamstresses really outdid themselves with this look tonight. I needed to “look perfect for the event” and “this is the party of a century” and “how else would a prince look for his homecoming?”
Ramona steals a glass of wine off a server passing by, which isn’t a good sign considering she hates wine. She has that look in her eye she gets right before a fight in Battlefield or at Solarball tryouts. The “watch me and see” type challenging attitude that I love so much about her.
But she cannot compete in the ritual.
I already can’t contain myself around her for gods knows what reason, but if she were to compete… Win?
I run a hand through my hair and look around the room.
