Arlo left Faryn and Cassian on a snow-covered hill outside of the city but still within Reyarney's borders. They had a clear view of the tracks at the bottom of the hill that the train would soon climb toward them.

         With their cloaks packed in their bags, they now wore jackets, Cassian's modified for his wings. His wings that were magnificently out.

         They stretched higher than his head and almost brushed the ground, stopping behind his calves. They were almost translucent but the silver and blue threaded throughout most of the wings made them stand visible against the city in the distance. What would they feel like? Were they smooth or would they be jagged like an uncut diamond? They were not what she would describe as thin and dainty like a dried leaf waiting to crumble. Delicate was the better word. Not that she would dare describe them as such to him. They were like caramelized sugar—not thin but not thick either—as if a little bit of force would cause them to snap, but that couldn't be the case otherwise he wouldn't have been able to fly with them both in Sleet City against the wind wanting to smash them into the rocks or the sea.

         It took her an absurd amount of time to realize Cassian had caught her staring. She expected him to be irritated, but instead his chest puffed out a little and a smirk played on his lips. She rolled her eyes. Stoking his ego was not something she wanted to contribute to in the slightest. After all, she hadn't been able to stop turning over their conversation from last night. She was twenty-two; she didn't have other powers. And petty and vindictive? That was not who she was. Even if she would very much like to see him tumble down this hill.

Shortly after Arlo had dropped them off, Peter had texted them that both he and Clíodhna had made it into the train car without any issues. Though it was only a matter of hours, maybe minutes, before Winter heard the Easter Bunny was leaving Reyarney.

She still didn't know how she felt about the Leprechaun. Clíodhna had been spying on them last night. Why did she want to help them when the danger was so high? Faryn and Cassian were fugitives, Peter a possible suspect. Desperation and necessity bonded them together. Associating with them was as good as damning yourself.

         Faryn adjusted her bag's strap where it rested on her shoulder, finally turning herself away from Cassian. At least he didn't make a comment about her staring.

         Snow had fallen on the tracks and waited to be melted by the heat of the train as it passed over head. What would it be like to control snow or wind or frost or ice?

         With her hand at her side, she turned it ever so slightly, in the hopes Cassian either wouldn't notice or wouldn't be able to tell what she was doing. She pictured the snow on the tracks moving toward the center of a beam to form a pile.

         She let out a deep breath, her breath curling in the air before her.

         Nothing. Nothing happened. Not even the wind blew to trick her into believing she had done something magical.

         The wind might as well have slapped her with as much as it felt like it was mocking her. She shouldn't feel disappointed. She didn't even want her family's power.

         But would it have been that awful to control some tiny part of winter? If only to be able to defend herself?

         She caught Cassian staring at her. He must have figured out what she had attempted. What if he was right? What if at her core she was petty and vindicative? Could he possibly know her that well or was she pathetically easy to read? Maybe that meant she was shallow.

         She scowled and angled herself away from him.

         She didn't like the idea that he might know her, or worse, she might know him. Knowing them, trusting them, calling them a friend was when Fae struck. For all she knew, Cassian's toleration of her was an act to get her to lower her guard. He'd had opportunity to kill her or to let her die, but none of that meant anything if he was a sadist, waiting for the moment it elicited the most pain for her and pleasure for him.

         She focused on the tracks where the snow had begun to tremble. It wasn't her doing though. In the distance the train appeared.

Reaching up, she removed her beanie, not wanting it to get whisked away by the wind.

         Cassian's eyes burned into her neck and hair where more white had appeared overnight. Some part of her liked that there was someone from whom she no longer needed to hide her real hair. She didn't feel the chest-aching need to hide this one visible part of her family that had stamped itself onto her.

         Snow crunched, and Cassian stepped alongside her. "I know it's not ideal."

         She frowned, dropping her gaze to where he held out his arms. It wouldn't be the first time he'd held her. But that was to save her life. Now she had to step into his arms.

         He'd be warm—not that it mattered. She wasn't even cold.

         It's not ideal. He didn't want to be that close to her either.

She braced a hand on his shoulder. He went taut under her palm, and as he looked at her, his nostrils flared. Right, her Elven scent was surely overwhelming him with her being this close. She must be the only one of the pair who found the other's scent somewhat—

         Her thoughts left her as his arm cupped her back, his hand splaying out along her. His pupils dilated, and her stomach tightened. She should step away. This could be the moment Cassian decided to be done with her.

         But she didn't want to. Though her heart beat faster with each thump, she liked it. Liked the way she could feel each finger of his press into a different part of her. And the way he was looking at her . . . the intensity of his eyes . . .

Maybe it wouldn't be so terrible to be Cassian's prey.

It was that thought that shook her free of her trance. She almost ripped herself away from him. She shouldn't want to know what it would be like to be hunted by him, to be pinned beneath him.

         Cassian bent down and slid his other arm underneath her legs, his hand gliding over the fabric of her pants. She clamped down on a moan. With no other preamble, he lifted her into his arms, and her hand flew up to grasp his other shoulder.

         Their eyes locked. His heart thudded against her arm. She had to trust him right now. After they were on the train, she could raise her guard again.

         Right now, she needed him. Arlo's plan hinged on Cassian.

         "Faryn—"

         The train blared its horn, and without another word, Cassian had launched them into the air within a few sweeps of his wings. Her grip on him tightened, and his fingers pressed harder into her. She needed to focus, to be ready, for when he would land on the train car. It was then she would have to fight against the wind and ice that would be waiting for them if she wished to make it to the flagged latch that Arlo's mice shifters had left for them.

         As Cassian drew them closer to the train, the wind turned vengeful, and it was immediately apparent Cassian was having difficulty flying against it.

         He pitched forward, angling them toward the train, and he held her tighter.

         A strip of green flag that was tied onto a latch near the middle of the eighth carriage flapped in the wind. The moment the Fata flew over the carriage, the wind barreled into them, sending them tumbling through the air as if they were nothing more than a leaf. His balance knocked away, they twisted in circles. He clutched her as she pressed into him. She squeezed her eyes shut as if that could stop the world from spinning. 

         Cassian hissed, and the world righted for a split second before they were forced farther back from the target like a billowed sail.

The wind seemed determined to prove she held no power of it.

Cassian beat his wings in quick but tired flaps, and his grip began loosening on Faryn. He drew them toward the roof of one of the carriages shimmering with ice. The instant his feet set down on the roof, he fell, and Faryn went flying from his arms.

She slammed into the ice slick roof and slid until she grasped a curved bronze handle. Gasping in a sharp burst of air, she looked up just in time to see Cassian as he slid over the end of the roof.

She screamed, thrusting out her hand. If there were ever a time you were going to work, do it now.

         But the wind did not bend to her will, and the Fata disappeared between the train cars.

I've made a couple of character aesthetic videos on TikTok. Are there any songs that make you think of a specific character?

Claus is now super close to 2,500 reads, so if it hits that before Wednesday, I'll again be posting a preview of the next chapter on my profile!