Wyrn took on a fighter’s stance, waiting for the collision.

A warm body slammed into him, hugging him tight. Everything slowed after that, and he was careful to pull the princess near.

Tears soaked her face, and although he was shocked yet glad for the warm welcome, this wasn’t the time for it. With her clinging to him, he could not fight.

“Give her back,” Orm demanded.

The nymphs, along with the dagger, hung in the air, slowing in their approach.

Wyrn was careful in prying the princess away. It was hard getting her to stop trying to get close, but a firm hold on her hands did the trick. He kept his eyes on the bastards before him.

“This is my wife,” he said.

The princess let out a gasp, but Wyrn could do nothing to address it. At least she could hear him.

“And I’ve come for her.”

Two hands gripped his right, hanging on for dear life and he hated himself all over again. What had he almost done? Almost allowed?

Orm’s face was set in a scowl. Instead of addressing Wyrn, he asked the nymphs, “What is the meaning of this? You all heard her agreement. I don’t care if he’s even here to watch. I want what I came for.”

Both nymphs listened then turned in perfect unison to regard Wyrn with utter disdain.

“A bargain is a bargain,” the green nymph agreed.

All eyes directed at the princess who continued to pull Wyrn back.

Her words didn’t reach Wyrn but thankfully, the bastard nymphs answered.

“Then change the bargain then, princess. You need only change it and bind yourself here even longer as payment. That is what it means to syphon the earth’s magic. So, either get into that pool and wish yourself into what we agreed, thus giving you the power to negate this bargain, or you fulfill your end.”

Both nymphs flinched.

Orm was the one to let him know why by drawling, “What the hell do you mean and if you refuse? You think there’s any refusal here?”

The purple nymph zipped forward. “A refusal comes at a hefty price. I’m sure you want to keep everything you came with. Everything precious to you.”

Wyrn thought to look back at the princess; perhaps he could guess her answer. That was no longer an option when the nymphs converged yet again and charged.

It was weak and unwise, but Wyrn did what he’d always done when attacked—he dragged what he cared for close and gave the enemy his back.

Everything turned white, despite his closed eyes. The only sure thing he could hold onto was the princess. The world became cold then hot.

She still shivered.

There was a silence at first, and then utter panic broke lose.

“It was a trick,” the purple nymph marveled.

Wyrn opened his eyes and looked all around but could recognize nothing despite the clear voices coming toward him.

“What is this?” Orm demanded. “What have you done! Make her big again.”

The green nymph said, “We cannot. We cannot stand against his power.”

A scan of the strange world yielded no one. Wyrn then looked up and yelled, “The Living Goddess be damned!” He—they were small.

The princess held his mouth then said something, urging him to calm.

That much he could gather, and it had to be enough.

High above, both nymphs floated with something Wyrn had never seen. It was a strange object they gripped at the shoulder straps. When he recognized it, he felt at his back but took his hands down immediately.

“A fairy.” He looked at the princess, betrayal washing all over him once more. “You’re a fairy and now you’ve somehow turned me into one as well. Turn me back!”

She looked at him, jaw dropped as if he were stupid.

A foot came down and she yanked him clear.

Orm tried again.

Wyrn didn’t need her words to understand. They started running. He was incredibly fast, so quick he overtook her and had to run back and help her up.

“Why won’t you move!” Wyrn demanded. They needed to go but, in all directions, there was nothing but open sky.

Finally, he made up his mind. She was a fairy, so she could fly. And once they were somewhere safe, he’d figure out this spell, then give her a piece of his mind properly.

They were in motion again but this time the princess no longer ran with him. In fact, she planted her feet several times while shaking her head.

Wyrn wasn’t having it. Not with Orm struggling to capture them. And where the hell was Bonn and his blasted succubus? Why weren’t they keeping that naked pig at bay?

The edge of the floor neared and Wyrn interlocked his fingers with the princess’s and yanked her with him as he jumped.

His stomach dropped and he stifled a cry. They fell, or rather, plummeted without pause.

One glance at her terrified expression told him something far too late, she couldn’t—wouldn’t fly.

In her fall, she yelled several silently colorful words at him. The ones he understood stung.

Something slammed into them, something soft. Wyrn was reluctant but let her go in order for them to both cling to whatever this was.

Blue feathers greeted him in all directions. A bird.

He pulled himself up to sit atop it and yanked the princess with him. They sat face to face, straddling the thing. Wyrn wanted to grip the animal but the woman clinging to him for dear life wouldn’t allow it. So, he held her in return, praying neither of them would fall off.

Flying. They were flying. The world looked tiny below them. More than once, Wyrn fought back a retch. When they finally jerked to a landing sometime later, the princess still cussed, albeit with her face in his neck, her hands beating down on his chest.

Her lips moving against his collar was all to indicate to him that she wasn’t done letting him know how she felt.

They should leave the bird, he knew, but…she was here, and she was holding him, and tears stung his eyes.

There was no end to her silent crying.

Finally, the bird picked its head up and turned it toward them. “Off,” it said.

Wyrn took insult at the tone. “All right. All right. I’m going. No need to say it like that.”

There was a nest below, so Wyrn jumped down into it and held up his hands for the princess’s naked frame. She slipped into his grip and hugged him with all her might.

At first hesitant, Wyrn returned the hold. It was strange with the wings at her back. He settled for wrapping his arms around her waist.

They remained like that for ages, ignoring the loud forest which was alive with chatter and panic.

It took a lifetime for her to let him go, not that he minded all that much. He’d come with a speech ready. He’d come with a ‘well go on then, I don’t need you’ reply prepared. He hadn’t come expecting kisses after kisses all along his throat then chin then finally his mouth. After their foreheads met, she took a step back then slapped him with every bit of strength in her.

Head hung, Wyrn didn’t dare move. His hair was up in her favorite style of a braid down the middle, giving her perfect access for her strike. It was only the one, but his face throbbed and burned. Bad enough he was stark naked, forced into Fae form, who knew where, utterly in a free-fall emotionally.

But to have her strike him, and not even know why, he let out a defeated sigh.

It was stupid and irrational, but he marched to the edge of the nest and decided to climb down.

A hand clawed at his arm, but he didn’t care. He was over onto the branch when he made the mistake of regarding her to see the terror spread across her face.

What was he expecting? What had he thought this was?

Now everything made sense and Wyrn felt like a fool. Mother had released the prince and didn’t want to rescue the princess. And now he saw why. She was a fairy. A terrible fairy who’d done this to him out of spite and he’d been dumb enough to let her.

She watched him in fear, but he returned defiance to her. He’d find his way home, even this small. He’d find his mother and beg her forgiveness. He’d apologize to his family for this fiasco, assuming any of them made it out of that tower alive, and then he’d never, ever, ever think of this woman again.

He didn’t say it to her. Why not let her suffer in silence as well? But she read his intentions loud and clear.

As soon as he slipped from her grip, she swung her left leg over the nest then her right and tried to jump down.

Living on the land for his entire life made Wyrn the stronger one physically. He debated leaving her but then realized how stupid that debate was. She was a damn fairy; she could fly away.

With a gentle hop, she jumped off the nest but not steadily. He nearly rushed back to her when she wobbled. Getting down was his first plan but he waited for her to balance before he thought of the meanest thing he could say before doing so.

“Damn fairy,” was all he could manage.

It made her freeze. They looked at one another for some time. Her expression held pain, and not the emotional kind. It was why he decided to check that she hadn’t stepped on a sharp end of the branch.

Two feet, red and raw, greeted him.

The iron burn didn’t concern him as much as the gashes. He approached her, drawn in by what he saw.

She opened her mouth to say something ultimately useless—he couldn’t hear it—but he swung her around to examine her wings.

One of the four was cut clean through.

Wyrn’s knees started to shake. He wasn’t sure why or when, but his legs gave out and he collapsed on the branch, powerless to grab hold when he slipped off and fell from the tree.