“Her magic is manifesting?” Mom’s eyes got wide. “Oh, he said that might happen—your father, I mean. He said if your true form was revealed and you found out who you are, you’d be in danger, Emma.”
“Who am I then?” I asked, bewildered. Was I some lost fairy princess? That sounded crazy, even in my own head. “Who am I?” I repeated.
Mom threw up her hands.
“Honestly, Emma—I don’t know. Your father wouldn’t say. He just brought you to me and begged me to watch you until it was safe for him to come get you.”
“So he just handed you a baby and you agreed to raise me on the spot?” I asked flatly. “Why would you do that, Mom?”
“Emma…” She pinched the bridge of her nose with the hand not holding the cigarette—a habit she had when she was feeling stressed. “I never told you this, but I was married before your father brought you to me. It was…a messy time in my life. I wanted a baby—so badly—but I could never have one. It’s why my husband left me.”
“So you took me just because you wanted a baby?” I asked, frowning.
“I guess…” She sighed and gave me a pleading look. “I took one look at you and just…fell in love.”
“Perhaps an affection spell,” Lachlan murmured, looking at my mom speculatively.
I rounded on him.
“Are you saying my mom only loves me because someone put a spell on her?” I demanded.
“Don’t get mad, little one.” He raised his hands in a “don’t shoot” gesture. “The spell is temporary. Your father probably did a scrying spell to find the most appropriate human to leave you with and then placed a short-term affection spell on your mother, knowing that by the time it wore off, she would have genuine love for you, which grows over time.”
“There wasn’t any spell.” Mom frowned stubbornly. “I wanted a baby and then here came this handsome stranger offering to give me one—it was as simple as that.”
“And you raised me all these years just because you wanted a kid?” I asked. It still seemed kind of hard to believe.
“I didn’t just want a kid—I wanted you, Emma.” My mother looked at me pleadingly. “Please, honey—try to understand. I know I should have told you about being adopted, but I didn’t want to put you in danger. And besides, I liked thinking of you as just mine.” She sighed and shook her head as she took in my new appearance. “But look at you now! There’s no hiding the fact that you’re different.”
“I know,” I said ruefully, looking down at my new self. “But Mom, you still haven’t really told me anything except that I’m adopted. Who is my real father? Where is he? Am I Fae—from the Fairy Realm? I mean I must be—right?”
To my dismay, she shook her head.
“I’m sorry, Emma, but I don’t know much about your real background. Your father only told me that you needed to stay hidden from some very powerful people. And he also said that he would provide for your education when the time came.”
I snapped my fingers excitedly.
“He must be the one paying for my scholarship to Nocturne Academy!”
I had always wondered about my mysterious benefactor—wondered why anyone would pay the exorbitant fees to send a drab little nobody like me to such an expensive supernatural school. Now it all made sense!
“So you don’t know Emma’s true lineage?” Bran asked, frowning.
“Or her family’s magical background?” Lachlan added.
Mom shook her head.
“I’m afraid not.” She frowned, studying the two of them for the first time. “And who are you two anyway? You look a lot like Emma’s father did. You have that…” She waved her cigarette in the air, as though searching for the right words. “That movie star look about you.”
Lachlan frowned.
“Movie star?”
“I think she means you’re ridiculously gorgeous,” I said dryly. “Both of you.”
“You think we’re gorgeous?” Lachlan raised his eyebrows. He shot Bran a grin. “Did you hear that, old friend?”
“I most certainly did.” Bran grinned back.
I felt my face getting hot.
“You know what I mean,” I said, glaring at the two of them. “So stop grinning like that! All fairies are good looking—it’s just part of being Fae, I guess.”
“You should know, Emma, since you are now the fairest of us all,” Bran said, suddenly serious again.
“I am not!” I exclaimed. “I’m just…different.” I looked at my mom. “You said I look just like my dad—did he have purple eyes like mine?”
“They were purple, all right…” She frowned, leaning forward to look at my new eyes more closely. “Just like yours. But his hair was blond—not black. And his face was like yours—so perfectly shaped.” She smiled and sighed. “He was the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”
She’d said that so many times when I was growing up, but now her words took on a whole new meaning. I had always thought it was strange that my mom seemed to bear no animosity towards the man who had impregnated her and then run off when I was still just a baby. But now it was clear why she wasn’t mad—he hadn’t impregnated her—he’d given her the baby she always wanted to raise.