Lullaby (The Fable Series, Book 2)

Chapter Thirty Eight

Wait.

My voice sounds hollow and distant, like it's coming from far away. Felix hovers over me, a darkness dawning in his eyes as I speak.

"Wait, Felix," I whisper. "This isn't... I can't do this."

His dark hair falls in front of his eyes, and he pushes it back as he nods, releasing me as he sits up, leaning his back against the trunk of the tree we lie beneath.

I stay on my back for a few moments, trying to catch my breath as I stare up at the canopy of brilliant bright red leaves overhead. As I watch, a single, delicate leaf drifts down, landing on my breast like a drop of blood.

Felix reaches for it with a faraway look in his eyes, his fingertips leaving echoes of prickling electricity where they brush my skin.

He holds the frail crimson leaf up into the silver moonlight. He seems to be studying it intently, and I watch him, wondering what he's thinking.

"I wouldn't have done anything," he says finally, without looking at me. "I know you're not ready for that."

My face turns bright red as I realize just what it is I thought he was going to do. What I thought we were going to do.

Omg. I only just had my first kiss a few minutes ago, and already I'm jumping ten steps ahead.

"Unlike the so-called angel, I don't have my mind permanently in the gutter," he says with a sneer, crushing the crimson leaf in his hand. It crumbles with a dry whisper, the crisp papery rustling of the leaf disintegrating in his hand, red fragments scattering on the moss.

At the mention of Alastaire, a memory takes hold of me.

On my first morning at the cabin, Alastaire showed me a photo of Felix with his arms around Zara Quinn, the super-famous pop starlet he's supposedly dating, if the press and the entire internet is to be believed.

Alastaire was warning me. Why?

"What's going on with you and Zara?' I blurt out, without really thinking.

Felix's hazel eyes widen in surprise; he purses his lips, looks like he's going to say something, then shakes his head.

He's silent for a moment, staring at the ground.

"It's not what you think," he says finally. "Or not what the tabloids think it is, anyway."

"Then what is it?" I ask.

He turns away, refusing to meet my eyes.

"Are you dating?" I ask. "Yes or no?"

Felix looks at me sharply, a pained look on his face.

"Stop Ash," he says, a hint of anger in his voice. "I can't talk about that."

"Why not?" I ask.

Felix just looks at me darkly, the pained expression replaced with his same old familiar glacial, unruffled mask.

"Would it kill you to trust me?" He asks coldly.

"Possibly," I respond, regretting it the moment I say it.

He sighs in frustration, balls his fist up and suddenly punches the ground, swearing as he does it.

"This is all I can tell you Ash," he says through gritted teeth. "You think I'm free. You think the others are free. We're not. We're slaves."

I'm about to ask what he means by that, but he raises his hand, silencing me.

"I don't have any answers," he says. "But I will. I need you to wait for me. One year, that's all I'm asking. You'll be safe here in Portland. Then I'll be back and I can tell you everything. You just have to trust me."