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Back For Ever Save as PDF
Chapters (63)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Map of the Willowhaven
  4. Map of Rosehill City
  5. Foreword
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. Epilogue
  62. Map of Rosehill City
  63. Also by Jenny Hickman

Maddox picks up another stone, tossing it into the air once before drawing his arm back and⁠—

A distant sound pricks my ears.

“Wait!” I hiss.

Maddox freezes mid-throw.

Gryff straightens, his head turning this way and that before he falls still. “Voices.”

I nod. The sounds are not coming from the forest or the well-worn path along the canyon. I point toward the bridge. “Across the canyon.”

By the sounds of it, there are multiple Seelie. Male and female.

Gryffin grabs the bucket of silty sand, dumping it over the fire. Smoke dances from the ground, curling into the air before melting into the fog.

One moment, Maddox is on the bridge, the next, he is beside me, searching the ground for the one thing he should know better than to leave behind. “Where the fuck is it?” he hisses, combing the stones surrounding the fire.

Gryffin sidles up next to me, his dagger in one fist and his short sword in the other while Maddox scrambles and digs around in the darkness. “Which one of you bastards took my dagger?”

Gryffin shakes his head. “When he finds it, I am going to murder him with it.”

Maddox leaps to his feet and shoves Gryff’s shoulder. “That is my dagger. Give it back, shit bag.”

“This is my fucking dagger. You left yours in the doe.”

Maddox glances toward what is left of the deer we killed earlier this afternoon. Sure enough, the bone handle protrudes from between its ribs. He sprints over to free the blade, cleaning it on his trousers as he stalks back to where we wait.

Technically, our job is not to keep out the Seelie fae. Unlike us, they are welcome to cross the bridge any time they please. Fortunately, they usually have the good sense not to.

It would seem tonight, that is not the case.

Gryffin nods at the swaying planks. “They are crossing.”

I withdraw my own dagger, the hilt smooth and familiar in my grip. We might not be able to keep them out, but we can sure as hell scare them shitless so they never want to come back.

Maddox bounces on his toes, tossing his dagger from one hand to the other.

A shadow appears in the mist. A lone male. Short. Broad shouldered.

Foolish.

Maddox cups his hands around his mouth and lets out a blood-curdling howl. The figure freezes. Gryffin catches a handful of discarded bones by our boots and launches them toward the intruder. The Seelie lets out a shrill yelp, turns tail, and runs back across the bridge, his footsteps stomping until he hits the dirt on the other side.

We follow him to the edge of the curling mist, ensuring those who linger think twice before crossing the canyon again.

7

“When you find your heart’s true mate, you will never desire another.”

-A Seelie Guide to Matrimony