She relented.

His mouth curved into a smile.

***

Darling Books was Bethan’s favourite store in Malia, and it was slowly becoming Kellan’s as well. The store was lined with aisles upon aisles of bookshelves that spanned from the wooden floor to the high ceilings; he pondered how the bookkeepers managed to climb the top shelves without a ladder. He imagined they wouldn’t be able to get one through the tight squeeze between aisles. Kellan watched in awe when customers would summon titles from the high shelves with a flick of their wrist and mutter a small incantation.

He kept his distance from Bethan and let her run free in the store. Her fingers glided along the shelves. She would pick a book, read the back and return it to its spot on the shelf.

Scanning the shelves himself, he was surprised to find old editions of his favourite fairy tales.

As a young boy, memories of sitting alone in the Royal Library filled him with sorrow and anger. He moved away from those books and replaced those memories with something else entirely.

Bethan’s soft lips on his, the want in both their eyes. His hands cupping her cheeks. He wanted desperately to talk about the kiss, but she had more important things to worry about.

He turned a corner to find her jumping to reach a book on a higher shelf. He chuckled, remembering how he saw those other customers using magic to summon books from shelves they couldn’t reach.

Such a simple thing she couldn’t do.

She looked around in the other direction, probably for a shopkeeper.

Her shoulders sagged when one didn’t appear from the other aisle.

‘Which book?’ he murmured, stepping to her.

She pointed to a book with a red spine three shelves above his eye level. He reached for it and pulled it down.

She averted her eyes from him, taking the book before she darted away.

He tilted his head back in frustration, feeling his throat bob as he watched her trail off.

Minutes passed, and he waited by the old-looking counter for her.

Bethan approached, holding a small book pile, whispering into her phone that rested on the crook of her shoulder.

He took the pile from her and whispered, ‘It’s on me.’

He sauntered to the cash register, sliding the stack across the counter. The shopkeeper scanned the books and flashed a bright smile as the transaction processed.

He listened intently, using his fae senses to spy on the phone call. The shopkeeper handed him a brown bag with the receipt inside.

A shrill, airy voice came from the other side of the line.

Her mother, he assumed.

‘It was a vampire, and I saw him sucking your blood; I just had to call to make sure you were okay,’ her mother said.

‘It was only a dream,’ Bethan dismissed, clearly frustrated. ‘I’m okay.’