~Chapter 12~

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Chapter 12

 

{NOT EDITED aka beware}

 

 

"I think I got it all," Easton reported from behind the stall in which I had holed myself in for the past twenty minutes. We hadn't spoken and it gave me time to dwell on my thoughts and attept to formulate a practical reason for the pink wings currently donning my back.

Fairy wings by far are the most bewitching and meticulously constructed organs to ever exist. Yes, wings are organs and are just as important to the fae as the kidneys are to humans. You can live without one but it is best to have both because otherwise you will have to go on through life with ease. Wing transplants have happened but are still far too dangerous to happen on a regular occurance.

Fae wings are soft to touch and visually bright and white with transparency. Our wings have several seams that give a braided or twisted illusion that enhance the beauty and appearance of the set. Like fingerprints, no wing pattern is the same and with that, it is hard to decipher whose set is the most magical.

However, all my life I have been told that I don the most enigmatic and grand set of wings. My wings are the brightest and purest of white that glow when dusk falls upon them. My wings glitter with clear yet luminous fragments that fall with ease and are eventually collected to be used by the Iona Gardens fae, the only fairies left in the known world.

Oh wait, the proper word to use is had.

I had the brightest and purest of white wings. Now I have a set of pale pink wings fastened to my back which to be honest are very pretty but they scare me. I am scared as to why my already peculiar wings have all but changed and erected at such an odd time.

"Keeva?"

I swore inwardly and tried to conjour up a reasonable excuse to avoid conversation with Easton. No I am not mad at him or anything, it is just that he makes me jittery and I constantly feel drawn to him.

And I sort of want to run my fingers through his dark hair for fun. For fun.

I'm also thoroughly perplexed as to why Easton, a brooding werewolf with the rugged looks and deep voice that-- see there goes my brain. But why on Earth would he look at me with such intensity and lust. I'd be lying if I said he did not give me looks that insinuated that he liked me, not in a romantic way of course because that would be ridiculous. He's like twenty and I'm seventeen and let's not forget that we are different species. Things like that never work out in the fairytales my mother used to read. Never.

Uh, I don't even known why I am thinking about this.

"I know you can hear me Keeva."

Nope, not answering.

"Do I need to break this door down?"

Not going to break me Mr. Alpha.

"Seriously are you scared of me or something," he taunted.

I just know he has that devious smirk tugging at his lips.

"Keeva."

Jokes on you.

"Fine don't talk to me."

I grinned at my accomplishment. I win.

"I guess I'll just call a pack meeting and bring this so-called fairy dust with me."

I jumped up without haste and opened the stall door to find Easton looking back at me with an amused look. Within his hands he carried the now fairy dust filled jar that I myself found enchanting. I brought my eyes to his and squinted with annoyance.

"Well aren't you going to thank me for cleaning your mess," he teased. I took in my full surroundings to find that Easton has swept every inch of the bathroom and there was no dust to be found. Well, except for the few particles that had danced away while I was hiding from him in the stall. Nervously, I tugged my borrowed short-shorts down and stared at my bare feet. I felt Easton's eyeing me suspiciously. When I met his eyes, his brows were arched and i let out a weak smile.

"So," I started. "I guess you can give that to me now," I pointed to the jar, "and you can be on your way. Oh and thanks."

He looked at me increulously. "You aren't serious are you?"

I pouted, "why would I not be?"

"Jeez, I don't know. Maybe because I just stayed with you---"

"I never said you had to," I mumbled which he chose to ignore.

"And because you still need my help."

I scoffed, "Haha and why on Earth would I need your help?"

He looked at my like I was crazy, "seriously?"

I rolled my eyes, "yes seriously."

"Maybe because you have wings which you said were not meant to be seen by others," I blushed at his words especially when he flirtaciously wiggled his eyebrows. "And possibly because you claim they are not supposed to be that color."

I contemplated what he said and all in all, he was right. He may have seen my wings but I sure was not going to let any other male see them, especially any wolves who I have not been properly introduced to. "Fine." I said lightly.

"Fine, what?"

"Fine you can stay. But under two conditions."

"And what may they be?" Easton asked, jar in hand.

"First you must not discuss anything that has happened today to anyone. Especially that Beta of yours."

"Deal," he nodded. "What else?"

"I want to talk to your mother, alone." He looked at me as if I were joking but when my face refused to change from its serious placement he grimmaced.

"Why?"

"That is for me to know and only me."

"And if I refuse?"

"Let's just say we will have a repeat of what happened the night we meant."

His eyes shot up in rememberance as to when I knocked him out. He sobered up quickly and nodded, "fine."

He stuck his hand out for me to shake and I just stared at it. Making a deal with him made me feel giddy and uneasy all at the same time. "Well," he waited.

when i placed my hand in his, a spark ignited within my palm and wound its way to my toes making me shiver. My response earned me an intense look from Easton and I blushed in response. As if on cue, my wings began to flutter and I couldn't help but wonder why Easton always caused a response when we touched in even the most of innocent ways.

Easton Wilde, what are you doing to me?

 

----

I wish I could respond to all of you but my internet has been acting up making it hard to follow my news. With that said, thank you so much for the support of all kinds whether it is through voting, commenting or fanning. Anything and everything is taken to heart.

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~Mo

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