Unlike Phyre and Phylix, who belonged to the Hunt from the moment they were adopted by The Rage, the same courtesy was not extended to me. I was a misfit, just like everyone else in the Hunt. I belonged. But I was so emotionally disconnected from them, I felt like an outsider.
Phylix tried so hard to be my friend, always walking up to me to strike up a conversation. But I just couldn’t be bothered. He wanted to talk and play, but all I was ever interested in was learning how to wield a sword.
Because if I could learn how to kill with a weapon, I could avenge my parents’ death.
“Revenge isn’t the answer, you know,” he’d told me. “It won’t bring them back.”
His sister scoffed, tossing her red hair behind her. She cocked her head to the side, eying me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. “You’re holding the hilt wrong.”
I crinkled my forehead, looking down at the sword in my hands. It was heavy, and I struggled to keep it aloft, so I had to choke up on the hilt so when I went to swing, I wouldn’t topple over.
She frowned, narrowing her eyes at me. “Let me show you,” she said.
She stepped closer to me, launching into an exasperated lesson on swordplay. The pair were only a year older than I, yet they’d both been trained with weapons since the Wilde Hunt’s valiant leader, the Rage, had adopted them.
Phyre trained with me every day after that, and her brother would watch us, offering tips when he saw fit. Bit by bit, my technique improved, and I became more confident with the blade.
Nearly two years later, I was already being sent on missions with the other members, usually as the lookout. Sent ahead of the others to scout the area before they arrived. The Rage wouldn’t allow us to actually take part in a fight. Said that children shouldn’t have to see what bloodshed looks like, or how it wrecks lives.
But he always looked at me with sympathy when he said it. Because he knew I’d already been exposed too much, much worse. I guess it was his way of protecting me, but it only ever made me feel more isolated.
Whenever I had a break from my training and scouting missions, I would take to the skies to clear my head. It was the only thing that ever provided me with a sense of solace and relief. No matter what was going on, I could always rely on the sky for a moment of calm. On particularly difficult days, I would stay up there for hours at a time, soaring above any worries that might plague me below.
As I soared high in the sky, I often flew over the human village. Through experience, I had learned how to fly at a great enough height so that my presence would remain undetected by the human eye. It pissed me off to see them all wandering about, living their quiet little lives as if they weren’t the entire reason I had to suffer every day.
Filled with rage, I descended from my usual high altitude in an attempt to scare the humans below and show them what power was truly like. I imagined cutting down all the men and women below me, stealing their lives the way my parents’ lives were stolen from me.
As I descended further into the village, my rage slowly dwindled. Everywhere I looked, I saw children walking alongside their mothers. They were holding hands and talking to each other, smiling as if they didn’t have a care in the world.
I paused mid-flight, watching them with tears in my eyes. Maybe Phylix had been right all along. If I murdered the humans the same way they’d done to my parents, to all the people in my village, I’d be leaving behind these children. And one day, maybe they would attack feyries in revenge as well. The vicious cycle of hate would never end.
Killing them would do far greater damage to my already jaded heart than any benefit it could possibly bring; the realization of this was almost too much for me to bear. I’d spent far too much of my life already prepared to avenge the death of my mother and father.
With a heavy heart, I shot up into the sky, leaving the small village behind me. Rain pelted down from the charcoal-colored clouds above as I felt my strength leaving me with my every move.
My mind raced with a chaotic mix of feelings that grew darker as the rain kept pouring. With my wings soaked from the downpour, I descended into the forest, looking for shelter and protection beneath the outstretched branches of its trees.
The scent of wet earth and decomposing leaves filled my nostrils as I drifted towards the shadows. With all my strength, I pulled myself into the thicket of foliage, praying it would protect me from the storm’s wrath.
I curled up tightly amongst the branches and leaves and closed my eyes against the sorrow that threatened to envelop me. As thunder rumbled in the distance, all I could feel was loneliness, an aching emptiness that no amount of revenge could ever fill.
The wind whistled through the trees as the thunder rumbled, and the sound lulled me. Shutting my eyes, I let myself drift into unconsciousness as I waited for the storm to pass.
When I awoke, I was met with a strange warmth that enveloped me. It radiated near my feet, and I jolted forward in surprise, a thick coat slipping off my shoulders. When the fog of sleep cleared away, I noticed a crackling fire about a foot from where I was resting beneath a tree, its orange and yellow light illuminating the dark forest.
And then I saw him.
A figure hunched over the fire, shadows dancing around him as he stared blankly at the flames. His hands were stretched out in front of him, trying to absorb every bit of heat they could.
When he noticed that I was awake, he peered over at me and smiled.
“I thought you could use a fire,” he said warmly. “You looked a bit cold.”
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been asleep, or when the rain had stopped, but my feathers were no longer soaked. I stared at the person in front of me, trying to make out his features in the low light.
He was dressed in ragged and worn clothing. His hair was shaggy and draped over his face, but I could still make out the sharp lines of his features as he regarded me with a friendly smile.
When I remained silent, he heaved a heavy sigh. “So, do feyries not know English or—?”
I stiffened at his phrasing, my wings flaring out in surprise. Maybe he’d seen me flying over the village and had come to kill me. I surveyed him with caution, searching for the weapon he surely had hidden in his clothes. Surely, he hadn’t stumbled out into the forest without at least a knife for protection.
“You’re a human,” I said finally when I could find no weapon.
He smiled again, his eyes twinkling from the crackling fire. “My name is Julian,” he said, and pushed out his hand to me in a friendly gesture. I looked between his hand and his eyes, unsure of what to do.
In a gruff tone, I turned my head away from him. “I don’t associate myself with humans.”
Julian coughed, and I looked back at him. He had his hands over his belly, laughing. In a mocking tone, he repeated what I’d said. It made me crinkle my forehead. Humans were curious creatures.
“Usually, the way it works is I say my name, and you tell me yours.”
I snorted. “How stupid do you think I am?”
Julian’s smile vanished. “I don’t think you’re stupid. I was just trying to be friendly.”
“Then you’re the stupid one. You shouldn’t give your name out so freely. Cross the wrong kind of fey and they’ll use it to control you.”
Julian regarded me for a moment, his long lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. “Noted. Are you that sort of feyrie?”
The fire light danced over his face, highlighting his inquisitive expression. I shook my head, “No.”
He gestured at the vacant spot next to him. “That’s a shame. It would have been nice to know someone had a semblance of control over my life. Especially someone as handsome as you.”
His words caught me off guard. I blinked twice, trying to understand what he was saying. And his smile gave it away. Was he—flirting with me?
I cleared my throat and stood to my feet. He rose also, and we stood there for a moment, our eyes locked. I wanted to say something witty—something that would drive him away, but my mouth remained silent.
I turned to go, but his voice rang out through the air. “Wait! Please don’t go. It’s dark, and if I’m being honest, I’m afraid to be alone.”
Meeting his gaze, I groaned. My wings were still slightly damp, but dry enough that I could fly back to camp. Besides, I didn’t owe the human anything. He’d only built a fire and threw a coat over my shoulders.
But when I really thought about it, had he wanted to kill me, he could have easily already done it while I was asleep.
Frowning, I turned around and walked back to the fire. He beamed and sat down beside me, the leaves crinkling beneath him. We sat for a while, neither of us speaking, until he finally let out a deep sigh.
“I don’t know what I’m doing.”
I raised a brow in answer.
“It’s just,” he breathed, leaning back against his arms, his palms buried in the leaves. “I don’t belong anywhere. My parents don’t want me, and I feel like I’m just a lost soul wandering the world.”
I understood. Gods, did I. Most of my life I’d felt lost, like I didn’t quite belong anywhere.
“So, you ended up in the forest because?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “People get lost here all the time, so I guess I figured if I just disappeared, I’d find something meaningful.”
And maybe it was the sadness in his voice, or the way he looked into my eyes, but for a second, I saw myself in him. I understood what it was like to feel so lost and alone.
“I’m Kol,” I whispered, my lips curling into a smile.
Julian gave a wide, satisfied smile and then winked slyly, his brown eyes glimmering with mischief. “Oh, now you’ve gone and done it. I guess your name belongs to me now.”
I don’t know why, but I laughed. Something about him made me feel light, even in this dark forest.
He wasn’t wrong. By the end of the night, I did belong to him. More than just my name, but my entire being. We stayed up all night — huddled against the ever-dimming light of the fire—talking.
Well, Julian did most of the talking. I just listened. He told me of his family, how he was the second born of twelve siblings, and how he’d practically raised his younger siblings as his own since he was five. He’d long since craved adventure, but that he’d been forced into the fields the moment he’d turned thirteen. Still a child, yet forced to work grueling hours just to support his family.
“It took me five years to stand up to my parents. Tell them that I didn’t want the life they’d handed me. I wanted more.” Julian laughed, his smile not quite meeting his eyes. “And as you might expect, it did not go over well. And so, here I am. What about you, Kol? What’s your story?”
I snorted. Not even Phyre and the others knew my story. So why did I suddenly want to reveal it all to him? This puny little human?
I hated humans. And yet…
Staring back into fire-lit eyes, I let him break down the brick wall I’d thrown up for years and told him everything. And when I finished, he brushed away the tears that strolled down my cheeks.
When dawn broke, I watched the sunlight bathe his hair in golden hues. Curls of brown hair framed his face as he smiled up at me, and I could feel my heart melting.
Julian noticed my lingering gaze, and his smile widened. “So, the Wilde Hunt. Any chance they’re recruiting?”
I snickered, my brows knit together. “Recruiting humans? Doubtful. It’s not like you have any useful skills.”
His back straightened, like I’d offended him, though his grin said otherwise, hinting of a challenge.
“I’ll have you know, I’m an excellent fighter.”
I couldn’t help myself. “Is that so? Show me what you can do, human. If you last longer than two seconds, I’ll consider bringing you back to the Hunt.”
Julian considered me for a moment, staring at my wings that I’d stretched out, challenging him. Finally, he nodded. “Jules.”
I cocked my brow in confusion.
“It’s Jules, not human. That’s demeaning.”
I smiled at his answer. “But you are one, are you not?”
Julian’s eyes glimmered, the sunlight capturing the amber flecks hidden there. “Have it your way, feyrie. Hand to hand only, no weapons and no magick.”
I held both hands out, palms up. “I’m a sylph,” I told him plainly. “I have no magick.”
He scoffed, eying my wings yet again and trying to calculate his first move. Julian lunged towards me with a roundhouse kick, aiming at my mid-section. I sidestepped him quickly in response and countered with a punch to his jaw before he had time to take another step forward.
He stumbled backwards but kept his balance. His eyes met mine, and he gave me a curt nod. I’d impressed him.
“Not bad,” he said, cracking his knuckles as if to signal the start of round two. He was an experienced fighter, and it showed in the way his body moved - lithely yet powerfully. He came at me again with a flurry of punches, landing a few before I launched myself back with my wings.
Before long, the avoidance became a sort of game. A dance of sorts. He would strike and I would drift in the wind, letting the wind between my feathers cushion me. Beads of sweat rippled down his chin, and I found myself appreciating the beauty of his movements.
I held up a hand. “Well,” I said with a grin.
Julian’s body relaxed, though he was still panting heavily. “Well?”
“You didn’t exactly get many lasting punches in.”
He bent over, arms on his hips, trying to catch his breath. “You cheated. Wings.”
In a flash, I moved with a breakneck speed to my sword that I’d left propped against the tree. I pressed the blade to his throat and pinned him where he stood against it.
“You could at least buy me dinner first,” he breathed.
I laughed. “You think you’re going to win me over with smiles and charm? You must be dreaming.”
Julian snickered, his face softening in a smile. He moved his hands to my own, still gripping the sword hilt tightly between us.
“That depends,” he said, eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint.
“On what?”
He dug his hands into the hilt of my sword, eyes closed in a reverent prayer to the gods, and he twisted his body so that it spun rapidly between us. Before I could react, my sword was already out of my hands and in his. With one arm wrapped around me like an iron vice and the other hand firmly clutching my weapon, he had complete control over both of us.
“If you can keep up with me.” He tapped the blade against my chest, a smirk playing at his lips.
I raised an eyebrow, pushing the blade away from me and taking a step back.
“Alright,” I said, “Consider me impressed, Jules.”