Someone on the other side of the bank starts singing. After a few words, I recognize Farah’s voice. I close my eyes, feel the sun’s warmth brush my skin, and let the sound of her song fill my heart.

  *

  The sun moves toward the horizon as I climb across the giant ruins of the old Guild. Afternoon light peeks through tree branches, and a cool breeze curls around my neck. Ahead of me, pixies skip and spring across the ruins before leaping off and dancing away. This place has already become part of the forest playground.

  Air ripples beside me and melts into a doorway. At the sight of Ryn, my heart dances just like the pixies. It always seems to be ridiculously joyful whenever he appears. I know he can feel my happiness, and from the kisses I usually receive soon after he arrives, I’m pretty sure he feels the same way.

  Today is no different. He steps in front of me, pushes both hands gently into my hair, and brings my face close to his. His lips linger on mine as his fingers brush the back of my neck and send shivers across my arms. I lean into him, running my hands down his back. Warmth curls around my stomach.

  “I got your message,” he says against my lips. He moves his mouth across my cheek, kisses each of my closed eyelids, and pulls away slightly. “Why did you want to come here?”

  I reach down and take his hand. I look around. “I’m not sure exactly. Maybe I just feel like I need to say one last goodbye. To this place, where so many important things in my life happened.”

  Ryn nods. His thumb brushes over my skin as we walk. “Have you been back to the new Guild since we visited it?”

  I shake my head. The day after the celebration-of-life ceremony, I went with Ryn and my father to see the new Guild. The one the guardians built during Draven’s time. “It’s just . . . it’s similar enough to make it feel like a familiar place, but every time I saw something different, it felt so wrong and out of place. And I don’t know if it will ever feel right without . . .”

  “Without Tora being there,” Ryn says.

  “Yeah.” I lean down and pick up an ornately carved piece of wood. I think it was part of a door once. I run my finger over the patterns. “I don’t know. I suppose I’ll get used to it in time. But then I think . . . maybe I shouldn’t get used to it. Maybe I don’t belong there anymore.”

  “Are you thinking about Jamon’s idea?”

  “I am. It sounds crazy, and I imagine it would be almost impossible to get the Guild to agree to it, but I think I want to be part of it.”

  “Well, you know I’m one hundred percent in favor of his idea. I don’t know if it’s actually possible—I mean, throughout history, the Guild has only ever been open to faeries—but if it is possible, you should go for it. Things have changed drastically since The Destruction. We just might have non-faerie guardians one day.”

  Non-faerie guardians. Jamon’s idea is certainly a revolutionary one. “And what about you?” We come to a low wall, and I push myself up onto it. I swing my legs. “Do you want to work at the new Guild?”

  “I don’t know. Still thinking about that.” He stands between my legs and leans his hands on the wall on either side of me. He kisses my nose, then says, “I have a feeling we’re all going to be living and working out of the Fireglass Vale base for some time.”

  “Yes, with only so many architect faeries around, and a world full of faerie homes to rebuild, I have a feeling you’re right,” I say with a laugh.

  “I don’t think I mind, though.” Ryn leans closer and brushes his lips along my neck. “I like knowing that your room is just up the stairs and along the corridor.”

  A smile stretches across my lips. I wrap my legs around Ryn’s waist and pull him closer. “Pretty sure I don’t mind either,” I say, my voice coming out a little breathless. His lips graze a trail over my jaw toward my mouth. I close my eyes, losing myself in the tingling on my skin. As my legs slip down, my boot snags on something hard in Ryn’s back pocket. My eyes flicker open. “What’s that?”

  “Hmm?” His kisses move across the other side of my neck. I slip my hand down his back and into his pocket. “You just want to feel my butt,” he says between kisses.

  I roll my eyes and try not to laugh. “I’m actually trying to find out what’s in your pocket.”

  “Oh.” He pulls back abruptly and clamps his hand over the pocket I’m trying to search. “Right. I forgot about that. I have something for you.”

  “Ooh, a present?” I slide my hand away and clasp it together with my other hand.

  “I’m not sure if it really counts as a present if I’ve already given it to you.” He removes his closed fist from his pocket and holds it in front of me. When he opens it, I see a ribbon bracelet and a ring with a gold-flecked purple stone.

  I sit up straight in surprise. “I thought I lost those in The Destruction.” The bracelet is made from ribbons that belonged to my grandmother, and the ring is something my father left for me when he ‘died.’

  “I saved them from the wreckage of your house. I meant to give them to you after we found each other, but I forgot.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper, tears prickling behind my eyes. Stupid tears. I’m like a leaking tap these days. With everything behind us now, I’m hoping the tap will stop running soon.

  Ryn fastens the bracelet around my wrist, then pushes the ring onto one of my fingers. My heart squeezes and tumbles over itself as my crazy mind conjures up an image of a future Ryn and me and a ring that means something entirely different.

  Oookay. Not ready to go there just yet!

  Ryn tips my chin up so he can look into my eyes. With a puzzled smile, he asks, “What was that about?”

  “Nothing. Never mind. You don’t need to know.” I wrap my hands around his neck and pull him close for another kiss. I forget about the world around me. It’s only the two of us. My fingers in his hair, his hands trailing down my back, the sparks on my tongue, my heart pounding in my ears. I only pull away because I need air.

  Ryn rests his forehead against mine. “Want to go for a walk?” he asks, sounding as breathless as I feel.

  “Yeah.” I need to calm my racing heart and the fire in my veins.

  I lace my fingers through his and slide off the wall. We climb down the side of the ruins and wander through the trees. Color, life, sounds, scents. Everything is back to the way it should be.

  “I have a suspicion,” Ryn says eventually.

  “Oh yeah?” I lift my hand, and a sprite with shimmering purple wings lands on my palm. She waves shyly at me, then flits away. “A suspicion about what?”

  “My mother. Your father.”

  I stare up at Ryn, puzzled. “Your mother? My father?” Then it clicks. I stop walking. “What? No. Why? Have you seen something?”

  Ryn shakes his head.

  “But you felt something?”

  “Maybe. I’m not sure. But she was far more upset than necessary when she discovered your father was actually alive all these years. And now that I think about it, after Reed died and my dad left, your dad started visiting us a lot more often than he used to.”

  “He did? I didn’t know that.”

  “Well, you and I weren’t exactly on speaking terms back then.”

  We start walking again. “So . . . you think they . . .”

  “I don’t know.”

  “That’s just weird.”

  “Yeah.”

  “We should talk about something else now,” I say.

  “Deal.” Ryn laughs. “Um . . . did you know the Unseelie Court has a king now?”

  “Oh yeah, I heard about that. King Savyon. Zell’s older brother.”

  “It’ll be strange having a king in one of the courts,” Ryn says. “So much of fae history has been ruled over by queens.”

  We reach a fallen tree. “Well, like you said, things have changed since The Destruction.”

  “Yeah.” We climb onto the tree trunk and jump down the other side. “Hey,” Ryn says, “look where we are.”

  I raise my eyes.
We’re standing near the old obstacle course. The one our mentors used to bring us out to during training. It’s scorched in places, but the ropes, nets, pool, wooden bars, and other obstacles are still here.

  “You know, we never did race this obstacle course against each other,” Ryn says.

  I wander over to the starting line. “You were always too scared to take me on. I am, after all, the supreme record holder of all time.”

  “By, like, a fraction of a second.”

  “Still counts.”

  Ryn stands on the starting line beside me. “I think we should see if that record still holds.”

  I tilt my head to the side. “Is that a challenge, Mr. Larkenwood?”

  “You bet your Sexy Pixie ass it is, Miss Fairdale.”

  With a grin I can’t suppress, I crouch down and get ready to jump. “Fifty silvers says I kick your ass.”

  I hear the smile in his voice. “You’re on.”

  ~ THE END ~

  If you enjoyed this book,

  please consider leaving a review online.

  Thank you.

  I am forever grateful to God for the imagination he’s given me, the abundant blessings he’s poured over me, and for being there every step of the way.

  My heartfelt thanks go to Kittie Howard for her superior editing skills. She can turn any clumsy sentence into eloquent prose! Kittie, you’ve been with me since the moment Vi first stepped onto the page. Thank you for sharing her journey with me.

  Thank you to Nicola Vermaak for once again waiting patiently for the very last version of the book. Your proofreading eyes are always a great help when I’ve read my work a gazillion times and all the words start to blur together! Thank you also to my beta readers for taking the time to read The Faerie War and provide valuable feedback.

  To everyone who’s followed Vi’s story since the beginning, to everyone who’s written reviews, to everyone who’s spread the word about my books, to everyone who’s left comments that give me warm, fuzzy feelings—THANK YOU, THANK YOU. You encourage and inspire me. And if you were one of the readers who finished The Faerie Prince with WHAT THE FREAK JUST HAPPENED written across your face, I hope you were satisfied with the ending Vi got!

  And to Kyle—thank you for putting up with all my early mornings, late nights, and never-ending “I’ll just be a few more minutes!” I love you. With all my heart.

  Rachel Morgan was born in South Africa and spent a large portion of her childhood living in a fantasy land of her own making. After completing a degree in genetics, she decided science wasn’t for her—after all, they didn’t approve of made-up facts. These days she spends much of her time immersed in fantasy land once more, writing fiction for young adults.

  Connect with Rachel online:

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  Sign up for Rachel’s author newsletter to receive updates about her books.

  Find out more about Creepy Hollow by visiting the Creepy Hollow website.

  Also by Rachel Morgan

  An A to Z of Creepy Hollow Fae

  The Faerie Guardian

  The Faerie Prince

  The Faerie War

  Table of Contents

  Part I: Violet

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Part II: Ryn

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Part III: Violet

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Part IV: Violet

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Table of Contents

  Part I: Violet

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Part II: Ryn

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Part III: Violet

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Part IV: Violet

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

 


 

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