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“Halfway where? To Ogma?” I asked enthusiastically, looking around.

“You seek Ogma? She will find you.” The face loomed closer again, and I felt strands of the long moving hair brush my neck and face. “And then you’ll go to the Midsith, won’t you? The Mild Months approach. Your crown is waiting.”

I laughed again. “What crown?”

“First the halfling, now the Hunter.” The grin stretched again, glowing orange eyes filling my vision, making me blink. “Will you remember me in your next life, Oak King?”

I snorted. “I mean, sure. Kind of hard to forget a… disembodied face with flowy black hair. I like the hair, though.”

The face let out a little huff of amusement. “You’ve forgotten much already, but it will return. He searches for you always. Pines for you.”

My brows pinched in a little frown. “Who?”

“Your holly king.”

“Huh?”

But the face drew back, tendrils of hair retracting in a rush. The shadowy shape pulsed.

“Ogma is near, Hunter King. She waits for you.”

“Oh, is she?” I asked brightly, looking around. “I’m looking for her.”

But the face was retreating, rising back up into the trees, the tendrils of hair slipping across the trunk like it was using them to climb. I gave it a little wave and stumbled forward, laughing when I nearly tripped. The flowers screamed in protest when I crushed a few under my boot, and I mumbled another apology.

The crunch of leaves behind me cut through my foggy brain. I spun around unsteadily, and my mouth broke into a wide grin when I saw the big black wolf lurking between the trees. His black eyes were fixed on me already, head lowered.

“My wolf,” I heard myself saying, instead of being terrified that this predator was stalking me.

I stumbled towards him and thudded to my knees, burying my hands in his thick ruff.

And then he wasn’t a wolf anymore, but a beautiful fae with black hair and black eyes kneeling there. He was staring at me. I just smiled even wider.

“I missed you,” I told him, even though I didn’t recognise him.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world to tip forward until my mouth was against his. I was still smiling as I kissed him.

“Ash,” he said unsteadily, pulling back, his long fingers gripping my face.

That was me. I smiled again. “Yeah.”

He just stared at me, brows pinching with anguish. I pouted at that, reaching up to smooth that little furrow away with my thumb. Why was he frowning?

“Y-you remember me?” he whispered, eyes glistening as they searched mine.

I burst out laughing.

“Of course I remember you,” I said, even though I didn’t, but I did. I laughed again. “Who are you? I remember you. I missed you.”

His breath shuddered out of him, fingers tightening on my face. “I m-missed you too.”

“Where have you been?” I kissed him again, smiling against his mouth. “I missed you. I miss you. Come back.”

“I’m here.” He pulled me into his arms hard, burying his face in my neck. “I never left.”

I petted his silky black hair before my arms went slack and hung there limply. I scrunched my nose and shook my head. “I don’t remember you.”

“What?” He jerked back, staring at me. “N-no. No, you do. You just said you do.”


Tags: Lily Mayne Folk Fantasy