A Discovery of Secrets and Fate (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 2)

His speed and strength.

The magical elements, for sure, as well as the fact he’s not intimidated by the fae—including their queen—at all.

“Hello,” I hear a man say, and my eyes pop open.

Standing before me is—yet again—another gorgeous fae. He’s uniquely dressed but not overly ostentatious in any way. In Los Angeles or New York, he wouldn’t get a second look.

Leather pants of a deep plum with shoes that resemble Doc Martens of the same color. Or maybe they have Doc Martens in Faere. He wears a plain black crewneck shirt under a long, tailed jacket of the same plum leather, but with patches of black suede haphazardly placed. The lapels are done in a deeper plum velvet. All in all, it’s a dashing outfit that would totally rock the red carpet at the Oscars.

But his clothing is moot. It’s the man within the clothes who interests me because I need not but a moment to discern this must be the prince, Pykalias. Same midnight hair as his mother and sister, along with the pale blue eyes. Their facial features are the same, except his are obviously more masculine. He’s tall, broad-shouldered and fits his suit very, very well.

Also… his tone is polite.

“Hello,” I return a little distractedly because the word demi-god keeps knocking around inside my head.

“You must be the human the entire castle is buzzing about,” he surmises. He doesn’t say “human” as if it’s a curse word and instead smiles at me. “I’m Pykalias, but my friends call me Pyke.”

“Finley,” I reply, not sure if I should extend my hand to him or not. We’re not friends, nor do I think we ever will be, but since he offered the name Pyke to me, that’s what I’ll use so as not to offend.

He takes the decision away as with a flip of his hand, it seems I no more than blink before the chair I’m sitting on is gone and instead, I’m sitting on a plush loveseat in the same exact spot. Beside me, Pyke sits angled toward me, one arm extended across the back of the sofa so his fingers are but inches from my shoulder. He props a booted ankle on his knee.

Nodding his head toward the door, he asks, “Carrick in there with the queen?”

“And your sister,” I mutter, casting a glance at the door.

Pyke chuckles. “Deandra has it bad for Carrick. Has always had too grand of notions when it comes to him.”

“So they… haven’t been together?” I ask, just laying it out there.

“Oh, they’ve been together,” he replies with a wink. “But just on a few visits over the centuries. Nothing serious for him, that’s for sure.”

My head reels.

Over the centuries.

Carrick is centuries old. My lifetime will pass in the space of a deep breath for him. I understand now why he looks at me the way he does, and why he’s not happy to be thrust into this prophecy with me. I’m truly beneath his efforts, but, then again, he’s being offered Ascension if he helps me and we’re successful.

Whatever Ascension means.

Pyke so casually tossing out an inference that Carrick is centuries old means he assumes I know what Carrick is. He has no idea I just found out and the implications are staggering, but I smooth out my features and tuck it away for future thought.

“Care to tell me why you two are here in Faere to save me the time of hearing it from my mother or sister?” he asks genially.

I narrow my eyes. “Why are you being nice to me? I have it on good authority fae hate humans. I’ve seen it firsthand since arriving here, and I have had my life threatened on more than one occasion.”

Pykalias smiles in understanding. “As with any society, you have those that hold on to old biases and prejudice, and then there are those who evolve and become more progressive.”

“And you are?” I prod.

“Evolution is my middle name, baby,” he replies with a laugh, and crap… it’s a sexy laugh, too.

I remember when I first learned about fae and endeavored to research them on my own through Google. All I kept finding were thousands of romance books written about fae, and I remember thinking to myself, how in the world could any woman find anything even slightly appealing about a fae.

Now I get it.

His engaging personality, movie-star good looks, and just a tiny bit of devil in him would make most any woman swoon at his feet.

Not me though.

“How did you get to be so evolved?” I ask.

“That would take an exceptionally long time to explain. Since I’ve heard word you and Carrick will be staying the night and there will be a grand party, I would very much like to entertain you with that story.”

Groaning, I don’t bother to hold the sound in. “We’ll have to stay the night?”