Kirian and I were just twelve years old when I pulled him from the icy waters of the creek behind my house. As he looked in my direction with unseeing lavender eyes, I quickly realized our age was just about the only thing we had in common. He spoke with an accent, he had pointy ears, and he was so beautiful it made my heart ache. Oh, and he claimed to be a fae prince cursed by witches who stole his sight.

I thought he was crazy from hypothermia. Turns out, he wasn’t, and for some reason he keeps coming back. But a day in my world is a year in his. Every time I see him, he’s older. Wiser. Hotter.

Over the past six years, I’ve tried not to fall in love with him because the terms of the curse are clear: If he doesn’t wait for his fated mate in all ways, including an innocent (or not-so-innocent) kiss, he’ll be blind forever.

So when Kirian kisses me and pulls me through the portal to his realm, I make it my mission to do some damage control. It’d be a whole lot easier if he wasn’t determined to marry me… And if someone wasn’t trying to murder me every step of the way.

Quinn

12 Years Old

I sigh out a frustrated huff as I plop down on the dock. No fishing today. My pole sits pointlessly at my side, and I prop my head in my hands as I look out at the dripping branches and wet mud.

The big snow from last week has been melting, flooding the creek. Peeking through the wooden slats beneath me, I watch the rushing water that’s just a few inches away from my face. Any higher and I’d be sitting in it right now.

Oh, well. I’ve got about a dozen other things I can do out here.

Tilting my face toward the shining sun, I close my eyes and take the pair of marbles out of my overalls pocket. They’re smooth as I turn them in my palm. Round and round they go, occasionally clacking as they knock against each other.

It’s a soothing habit. The kids at school don’t understand why I do it. Then again, they don’t seem to understand me at all. Even when I try to fit in—wear the popular clothes, say the right things—they still make fun of me.

So I don’t try anymore.

Just as I open my eyes, I hear a shout. Frowning, I glance out at the woods on the other side of the creek. Left, right, behind me.

Nothing. I’m alone. Like always.

People say these woods are haunted. No one else is brave enough to come here. Rumors in town tell tales of ghosts, mysterious flashes of light, and strange sounds.

And yelling, like what I thought I heard.