The Tracker's Mate: Sunderverse (Mate Tracker Book 1) by Ingrid Seymour (an ebook reader TXT) 📗

I bounded up the steps that led to his heavy front door and pushed it open. A wooden chime clattered above me, and Yalgrun looked up from his spot behind the counter.

He came from an Elf-hame town called Bladuh and was one of the most intimidating-looking creatures I’d ever seen. At seven-foot tall, he had a body made out of tree branches and vines. They twisted into each other, forming a massive torso, neck, arms, and legs. The same continued over his face and formed two horns that stuck straight out of his head. He had entirely black eyes, two holes for a nose, and a mouth that sometimes clanked if he spoke without care.

But however intimidating he might appear, once he opened his mouth, you couldn’t help but love him.

“Toni Sunder,” Yalgrun said in his melodic baritone voice. “Your presence graces my humble shop.”

“Hello, Abin Cenael, how do you fare?”

“I fare splendidly. I hope you do as well.”

I shrugged. “I’ve been better but can’t complain.”

Yalgrun’s thick, ropy fingers lay interlaced on the wooden counter, which seemed to grow from the floor planks. He had four fingers on each hand, and I couldn’t help but count them each time I saw them. “Trouble brews in your realm, I hear.”

I frowned up at him. “Oh?”

“News reached us of the werewolf heir taken into captivity.”

Wow, news had traveled fast indeed. I wondered if that meant the Fae had something to do with the kidnapping.

I nodded. “Yeah, it’s unfortunate. I actually know him.”

Yalgrun scratched his head, making a sound like two pencils tapping together. “Truly?”

“Truly.”

His face creaked as he grimaced with regret. “I am so sorry to hear this.”

“Well, we hadn’t talked in a while, so...”

I let that hang, feeling awkward until I pulled a shopping list from my pocket and set it on the counter. “I’m running out of a few items, including Pixie dust.”

He took the note with incredible gentleness, which seemed at odds with his large fingers. “I got a new batch just yesterday.”

“Awesome.” Just the reason I loved shopping here. Always the freshest ingredients.

He set about gathering my items, humming and lumbering around his high shelves. He pushed around jars, wooden boxes, dissected branches, rocks, and corked bottles full of strange liquids. I wiggled my nose as if that would get rid of the million scents that filled the shop.

The chime clanked as another customer entered the shop. I glanced back and had to do a double-take. Fae individuals always left me in awe, but this time I was dumbstruck. I snapped my mouth shut, my teeth clicking, and forced myself to breathe before I passed out at the sight of the male who strolled in.

He was magnificent. A walking dream imagined by a skillful artist. He had a warrior’s body, broad, tall, and muscled in all the right places. Long, blue-black hair fell chest-high around him, graced with narrow braids kept in place by silver beads. A pattern of intricate tattoos ran down the right side of his face from his temple down to his neck, where it disappeared under a black, embroidered tunic. Pointed ears decorated with silver cuffs stuck out through his luscious locks.

And his face... oh, my God, his face. Everything about it was chiseled perfection. His straight nose, strong jaw, high cheekbones, and devastating lips. Thin eyebrows that rose at an impish angle framed a pair of serious, cobalt-blue eyes.

He bowed as he noticed me watching and waited by the door, large hands clasped in front of him. I had never wanted to be anything but human, but at that moment I would have sold my unborn children to be the kind of Fae this male could fall for.

Geez, grow up, Toni.

I shook myself and turned to Yalgrun, who still perused the shelves and, at last, came up with Rosalina’s puck stool, which I recognized by its black jar covered with a green cloth secured with twine.

Yalgrun lumbered back in my direction and noticed the newcomer. His large, black eyes widened to the size of apples, and he clumsily set his load on the polished counter, jars clinking precariously against each other.

“Prince Kalyll,” he said with a bow.

Prince? Kalyll?

If I had my facts straight, this was the Prince of the Seelie Fae. The eldest son of King Beathan Adanorin and Queen Eithne Adanorin.

Holy shit!

Did princes do their own shopping in Elf-hame? Judging by Yalgrun’s reaction, I didn’t think so.

“And you must be Yalgrun of Bladuh,” the Prince said with a quick smile and a beautiful deep voice.

“I am honored,” the shop owner bowed, his back creaking like an old door as his horns almost touched the counter. His head shifted from the Prince to me then back again. He didn’t seem to know what to do: finish filling the order of a lowly human or tend to his future king, even if he’d just shown up.

I decided to make things easier for him. “I can pack all of this while you see to your new customer.”

Yalgrun seemed relieved and moved down the counter to take Prince Kalyll’s order. While I wrapped my jars in brown paper and stuffed them in a cloth sack, I stole a few glances at the Prince’s profile. He murmured to Yalgrun, who quickly filled Kalyll’s order and got paid with several gold coins.

Before I even finished packing my items, the Prince walked out the door with a quick farewell. As I paid a stunned Yalgrun in my lame American dollars, he took the money absentmindedly.

“Prince Kalyll is a hottie, huh?” I said.

Yalgrun’s brow knitted together. “Hottie?”

“Um, never mind. Thanks for this.” I gestured toward the sack that now hung from my shoulder. “I’ll see you next month.”

“Well met.”

“Well met.” I gave him a small wave and left the shop.

I was walking back toward the exit point, thinking about Rosalina’s reaction when I told her I’d seen Prince Kalyll Adanorin when someone rushed me from the side, forcing me inside a narrow alleyway and sending me