Fae of the South (Court of Crown and Compass Book 3) by E. Hall (good books to read in english TXT) 📗

all too dense and unwieldy. It scares me. I’m not sure I want anything to do with it. Despite being surrounded by people like me, meeting Amelia, and having Tyrren here, dread carves me out.

Nonetheless, I sense the ribbons of magnetic energy I’ve tried to ignore since that fateful night pulling me slowly toward twelve o’clock.

I drift in and out of anxious sleep until shuffling comes from across the room. Amelia ghosts by, revealing the digital numbers on the clock. It’s a few minutes before midnight.

I sense she pauses by the window as if giving me the opportunity to join her. Headmistress Jurik outlined the rules, but I’ve never before had an issue breaking rules. Neither have I been told that being fae is okay.

After pulling on my boots, I follow Amelia through the opening and onto the damp ground.

Outside, the air is electric or maybe it’s just me—if we’re caught I’m definitely going to RIP. Sticking to the shadows, we make our way across campus.

We pass several buildings, including a crumbling down auditorium—vestiges of the boarding school for supernaturals.

Inside, a group of students huddles together. They nod at Amelia as we sit down in the circle. Words are spoken in hushed whispers. The lantern light dims and the lapping water off the nearby docks and the crickets mute. It’s as if we’re suddenly inside a secret place.

Amelia smirks. “Rune of concealment.”

I have no idea what she’s talking about and worry I just stepped into a cult. Other fae gather—many with lavender eyes. A vague memory carries me back to Brooklyn and the bookstore where I worked.

A strong hand locks on my shoulder. I force myself not to startle as a guy with shoulder-length hair helps me to my feet. A tattoo twines down his arm, a tribal design of black and red against his skin.

“Welcome, everyone, especially our newcomer.” A pair of obsidian eyes shine on me. He leans in and whispers into my ear as though inhaling me. “My name is Emeric and I’m here to help you, Leajka.”

No one ever uses my full name. The sound of it makes me shiver with delight and meet his gaze. I want to hear it again. I want to dive into his dark eyes. I want to do anything he asks. The earth tilts like our worlds are colliding. He pulls me close. I melt, giddy like a girl asked to prom by her crush. The riptide of embarrassment that flooded me about being fae finally recedes.

Everyone claps.

Our eyes lock again and the fraying corners of my mind drop into nothingness. I forget everything, who I am, my name, Diesel my dog when I was little, the snatches of songs that play on an endless reel in my head, and the slim line of the knife that haunts my neck.

This boy, whoever he is, is a gateway drug. I’m nothing but amber desire.

Emeric’s voice comes strong and sure. “You’re all here tonight because you know you don’t belong. You shouldn’t be locked up. You don’t belong in Terra. No, you’re all meant for something greater—dominion in Borea. The homeland.”

There’s a murmur of agreement.

His voice is like smoke over water, soothing, tempting. “You were taught to believe that your magic was to be kept hidden. That you’re bad, tainted. But you feel the explosiveness of it desperate to get out. Fae aren’t meant to suppress their magic. It’s dangerous. I believe in each of you. In your power. In your promise. But nothing is going to change unless we come together and rise up against those who want to restrain us, lock us away, and pretend that we don’t exist.”

The lantern flickers.

I’ve never been one to dismantle my chainmail of suspicion, jadedness, or spite, but something softens me. At Emeric’s words, warmth spreads from the inside out, assuring me, casting away my self-doubt. I feel like I belong.

Emeric goes on to talk about how fae and other supernaturals have been oppressed. How imprisoning us in jail and reform school is the latest in a long line of acts against us. He talks about the Rift, when the leaders of the Terra and Borea realms parted ways, leaving many in this realm to fend for themselves. He tells stories of families broken apart, fae who were made to live in hiding, fearing for their lives. He talks about fae being treated like criminals even though they couldn’t help their nature.

Part of me wants to argue, make my point that I’m a monster, but the more he talks, the more I find myself mesmerized and hanging onto his words, finding relief in finally hearing the truth.

“With demons on the loose, fae are emerging from hiding to defend themselves, their homes, and this land. But in doing so, they’re being made out to be the criminals.”

The rebel in me rallies. For so long I fought against myself. Maybe this is what I’ve been seeking all this time. People like me. With each word Emeric speaks, the fight rises inside.

“We’ll find a way to break free. We will show them what it means to be supernatural. We’ll destroy anyone who tries to stop us.” He holds my hand up as though we’ve already triumphed.

Against who? I don’t know.

Against what? The ongoing belief that I’m other, wrong, not worthy.

But am I dangerous? Yes. Yes, I am.

Emeric’s gaze lands on me as though he senses my thoughts.

What feels like a length of soft silk slips out from the center of my chest and spirals toward him. The broken and hollow parts of me since that terrible night almost four years ago fill in. The rollercoaster of emotions I’ve ridden for the last twenty-four hours vanishes. With this subtle shift, I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

I spot Amelia in the crowd, silhouetted by the glow of