The Dark Fairy King

Then, suddenly, the most irritating person in existence made his entrance—Devran.

Not surprising, really. These woods were his domain. His stench of sticky magic practically oozed from the earth itself.

I exhaled sharply, willing the night to hurry up. Dusk dragged on like a stubborn child refusing to go to bed. My magic was already fraying at the edges, dangerously low. But, well... it was just Devran. After all the times I’d shooed him away, he might as well have been a nuisance of nature—like a pesky pigeon. I didn’t need magic to deal with him.

"Oh, hey, Devran," I greeted, the politeness forced, as I lazily bit into my chicken skewer, not bothering to rise.

Scarlette shot me a curious glance before taking a subtle step back. She must have sensed it too—whatever was about to happen—or maybe she was just better at pretending than I gave her credit for. Love Fairies are naturally scared of Dark Fairies, after all.

Devran strutted forward, that infuriating smirk of his in place, but there was something sharper in his eyes this time—something... darker. He wasn’t here for a casual chat.

"Well, well," he said, his voice oozing amusement. "If it isn’t the most miserable duo in the woods."

I clenched my jaw, resisting the urge to snap.

Scarlette’s gaze flickered between the two of us. She must have been trying to figure out who this menace was, but I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to say about him. I wasn’t even sure how much I knew about him, and that was a problem in itself.

"Poor Veravos," he mocked, his voice slow and deliberate, savoring every syllable. "Looks like after all these centuries I’ve found your weakness."

I barely missed a beat. "An extrovert?" I deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

He didn’t laugh. Shame. I thought that was a good one.