Felicity leaned against the cold stone wall of the nearby alley, the faint hum of distant foreign noise mixing with the whisper of her thoughts. Her fingers absently traced the edge of her gown, still faintly tinged with dust from earlier. She tried to steady her breathing, but the memory of the kiss refused to leave.
It wasn't supposed to happen like that. She'd only meant to connect with him, to help unlock the memories buried deep within him. Yet when his lips met hers, the moment had ignited something unexpectedâan energy that coursed through her as fiercely as it had through him. She could still feel the heat of his hands on her waist, the way his breath had hitched before the kiss deepened.
But it was more than just the kiss. It was the flicker of recognition in his eyes when he spoke of his mother, of Merlin, of Camelot. She had seen itâthe brief crack in the walls he'd built around himself, even if he wouldn't admit it. For the first time, she felt a shred of hope.
Still, she frowned, frustration curling in her chest. How was she supposed to convince him of the truth when he dismissed her as some kind of medieval fanatic? He'd called her crazy, and maybe she couldn't blame him. Dropping someone into a life-altering revelation about their royal destiny wasn't exactly something one could do gently.
She sighed, brushing her auburn hair back from her face. There was no time to sulk. She needed to figure out her next moveâand fast. Gavin's memories were stirring, but if he walked away from her now, the path to bringing him back to Camelot would grow even more treacherous. Without him, the kingdom had no future.
Her hand moved instinctively to her sleeve, searching for her wand she'd used to disappearâthe one thing she couldn't afford to lose. But her fingers brushed against bare fabric. She froze, her breath catching.
The wand wasn't there.
Panic surged through her, and she frantically patted her other sleeve, then the folds of her gown. Nothing. Her wand was gone.
Felicity spun around, her gaze darting across the ground. Had she dropped it when she left Gavin? Her heart raced as the implications sank in. Without her wand, she had no way to cast even the simplest of spells. No way to guide Gavin further toward his memories. No way to defend herself if somethingâor someoneâfound her before she could complete her mission.
Her mind whirled as she retraced her steps, desperation clawing at her chest. She had been so focused on getting Gavin to remember who he was that she hadn't even noticed her wand was missing.
"Think, Felicity," she whispered to herself. She closed her eyes, trying to replay her movements. The arena. The kiss. His vehicle. Had she dropped it when she reached for Gavin while his head was leaning against the large wheel? If that were the case, it was still in that very awkward and uncomfortable vehicle.
The thought chilled her. If her wand had fallen into the wrong hands? No. She couldn't think like that. She had to find it, and quickly.
The faint scent of lilacs lingered in the air, a reminder of the connection she'd forged with Gavin only moments ago. She clenched her fists, forcing herself to breathe. The kiss had been a breakthroughâa small but significant step. She wouldn't let this setback stop her. Wand or no wand, she was determined to bring Gavin back to Camelot.
The alley was steeped in shadows, the sliver of moonlight barely enough to distinguish shapes on the ground. Felicity crouched low, her hands brushing against the rough pavement as she searched in vain for her wand. Her fingertips met only grit and stray scraps of paper, the emptiness tightening a knot in her chest.
Her breath puffed visibly in the chilly night air, and she shivered, pulling her arms around herself. The night seemed colder without her wandâa silly thought, perhaps, but it had always been a source of comfort as well as power. Now, with no way to cast even the simplest spell, she felt exposed and vulnerable.
She straightened, rubbing her hands up and down her arms for warmth. Where will I stay tonight? Without her wand, there was no quick solution, no easy shelter conjured by magic. Her options were bleak.
Her gaze drifted toward the faint outline of the arena in the distance, its towering structure bathed in moonlight. The arena was her best hope. If she could find a way inside, she could rest somewhere unseen, just for the night. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than wandering the streets.
Felicity chewed her bottom lip, weighing the risk. The place was likely locked, and if someone spotted her trying to get in, things could get complicated. She had already stirred enough trouble tonight. But as her eyes scanned the emptiness around the grounds, her determination grew.
It was late. The streets were silent. Surely no one was around to notice her.
Tucking a stray lock of auburn hair behind her ear, she stepped out of the alley and made her way toward the arena, her steps brisk but cautious. The gravel beneath her shoes crunched softly, and the sound echoed in the stillness. She hugged herself tighter as a gust of wind cut through her gown, chilling her to the bone.
When she reached the massive double doors of the arena, her fingers trailed along the handle. Locked, just as she had expected. Felicity sighed, her breath fogging in the cool air. Her gaze wandered upward, tracing the shape of the building, and she spotted a smaller side entrance farther down.
Her heart beat faster as she approached it. Her fingers trembled slightly as she gripped the handle. She gave it a tentative tug. Nothing. She frowned, then leaned her weight into it, trying again. The door didn't budge.
Frustration bubbled within her, but she pushed it down. There had to be another way. She stepped back, scanning the building for anything she might have overlooked. A low window caught her eye. It was slightly ajar, the glass reflecting the pale light of the moon.
Felicity smiled to herself, a spark of hope igniting within her. It wasn't the most graceful option, but it would do. She approached the window, her heart pounding as she glanced over her shoulder one last time to ensure no one was watching.
Closing her eyes, Felicity inhaled deeply, steadying herself. She needed to focus. She couldn't rely on her wand nowâshe'd have to tap into her inner power, the one thing she'd been trained to wield in desperate situations.
Her hands rested on her lap, trembling slightly as she whispered an incantation under her breath. The familiar words rolled off her tongue like a melody, soft and rhythmic, as she centered her thoughts.
She concentrated on the energy within her, visualizing it as a spark of light at her core. Slowly, she willed it to expand, to flow through her limbs and pulse outward. Her heart quickened, her chest rising and falling with controlled breaths.
"Come on," she murmured to herself, her voice barely audible. "Work this time."
The air around her seemed to shift, growing warmer, almost electric. A faint shimmer surrounded her, like golden dust caught in a beam of light. Her muscles tensed as the energy surged, and she bit her lip, concentrating harder. The transformation was always more difficult without her wand to guide it, but she knew it was possible. It had to be.
A tingling sensation spread across her back, starting between her shoulder blades and radiating outward. The feeling was both strange and familiar, like an itch she couldn't quite scratch. Then, with a soft hum, the shimmering glow behind her intensified, and she felt the weight of her wings unfurling.
She opened her eyes, glancing over her shoulder. A smile tugged at her lips as she saw the translucent wings, glowing faintly with an iridescent sheen. They fluttered softly, catching the dim light and scattering colors like a prism. She let out a shaky breath, relief washing over her.
Becoming a fairy always came with risks. Without her wand, the process left her drained, and she could never maintain the form for too long. But it would have to do for now.
The wings stretched and flapped gently, the faint hum of magic vibrating in her ears. She felt lighter, more alert, her senses sharpening as her fairy instincts took hold. This form would help her search for the wand and give her an edge if she encountered trouble.
Glancing toward the window she would climbed through, Felicity weighed her options. The arena might still hold answers, but the pull of the night sky called to her. In this form, she could cover more ground, scanning the area from above and retracing her steps to find her lost wand.
With a determined nod, she closed her eyes again, imagining herself smallerâmuch smaller, like a firefly. She crouched slightly, gathering her strength, and leapt into the air. Her wings caught the current effortlessly, lifting her higher and higher until she hovered just above the building.
The city stretched out before her, bathed in moonlight, its winding streets and shadowy alleys waiting to be explored. Felicity set her sights on the path she'd taken earlier, determination guiding her.
"Hang on, Gavin," she whispered. "We'll finish this. One way or another."
With a powerful flap of her wings, she soared into the night, the search for her wandâand the fate of Camelotâpropelling her forward.
* * * *
Gavin shoved his books into his bag with more force than necessary, the sound of the zipper cutting through the low hum of conversation in the nearly empty classroom. His professors' words from the day echoed faintly in his mind, but none of it had stuck. Not a single lecture, not one page of notes. His thoughts had been a tangled mess all day, circling back to Felicity, the kiss, and the strange visions that had gripped him the night before.
He ran a hand through his hair as he stepped out into the cool late afternoon air. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the campus. Students moved in clusters, their laughter and chatter grating on his already-frayed nerves. He sighed, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading for the parking lot.
Why couldn't I focus? he thought bitterly. He knew whyâbecause his head was still spinning from everything Felicity had said. Prince of Camelot. Merlin. Memories that felt more real than any dream he'd ever had. It was insane, all of it. And yet, no matter how hard he tried to dismiss it, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something there. Something real.
By the time he reached the parking lot, his temples were throbbing, and his patience was worn thin. All he wanted was to go home, grab a beer, and forget about the maddening woman who had somehow upended his life in the span of a single evening.
But as he rounded the corner and his truck came into view, he froze.
Felicity stood next to the driver's side door, her auburn hair catching the light as the breeze toyed with the loose curls. She was wearing the same medieval gown as the night before, the deep green fabric flowing gracefully to the ground. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and she tilted her head slightly when she saw him, a soft, knowing smile tugging at her lips.
For a moment, he just stared, his chest tightening. She looked completely out of place hereâlike a character ripped from a storybook and dropped into the middle of his modern, ordinary world. But there she was, calm and composed, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
His stomach twisted. She's not real, he told himself, though even he couldn't believe it anymore. The lilac scent he'd smelled in his truck the night before seemed to cling to the air around her now, faint but unmistakable.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice harsher than he intended as he approached her.
Felicity's smile didn't waver. "You left school early, didn't you?" she said, her tone light but pointed.
"That's none of your business," he shot back, though he knew she was right. He had bolted from his last class the moment the professor's droning became unbearable.
She stepped closer, and he instinctively took a step back, his heart racing for reasons he didn't want to analyze.
"I told you we weren't done, Gavin," she said softly. "You may not believe me yet, but I'm not giving up. You're important, more important than you realize. And whether you like it or not, you and I have unfinished business."
He tightened his jaw. He opened his mouth to fire back, but the words died on his tongue. Instead, he gestured sharply at her gown. "And what's with the dress? Are you just trying to make people think I'm crazy?"
Felicity shrugged, unbothered by his irritation. "I told you who I am. This is who I've always been. I'm not here to blend in, GavinâI'm here to help you remember."
He stared at her, a mix of anger and confusion swirling inside him. She looked so calm, so sure of herself, while he felt like the ground beneath him was crumbling.
"Look," he said finally, his voice quieter but no less strained. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but I don't have time for this. I've got enough on my plate without you showing up and talking about... Camelot."
Her expression softened, and she took another step closer. "I know you're confused. I know this is hard to believe. But Gavin, deep down, you feel it, don't you? That this isn't just a game. That everything I've told you is the truth."
He shook his head, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "No. I don't feel anything. All I feel is tired. I've got school, a job, and a life that doesn't involve... whatever this is."
Her eyes searched his, filled with quiet determination. "You can try to deny it," she said softly, "but you cannot run from who you are."
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. Gavin finally broke eye contact, muttering under his breath as he unlocked the truck.
"Just stay out of my way, Felicity," he said as he climbed into the driver's seat. "I don't have time for this."
But as he started the engine, he couldn't help glancing at her through the window. She stood there, unflinching, her gown rippling in the wind, and for the first time, he felt a flicker of doubt about everything he thought he knew.
Gavin gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white as the engine roared to life. He glanced at Felicity again, standing just outside his truck, her delicate features illuminated by the fading sunlight. Despite everythingâthe gown, the strange claims, the whirlwind of confusion she had brought into his lifeâthere was something about her expression that tugged at his conscience.
She didn't look smug or defiant. She looked... lonely.
He sighed, leaning his forehead briefly against the steering wheel. Why do I care? She wasn't some random crazy person. She knew thingsâthings she shouldn't know about him or his past. And no matter how much he wanted to pretend otherwise, there was a sincerity in her voice that he couldn't ignore.
Suddenly, his mother's words popped into his head, things she'd told him numerous times. You must be kind to everyone, regardless of their station in life. You have the heart of a king, and so you must love everyone without being judgmental.
With a groan, Gavin turned off the engine and stepped out of the truck. Felicity's gaze met his, curious but unshaken, as he approached her.
"Do you have anywhere to stay?" he asked, his voice rougher than he intended.
Her eyes widened slightly, but she shook her head. "No," she said softly. "But I shall manage. I always do."
Her words hit him harder than he expected. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of guilt settle in his chest. She'll manage? The way she was dressed, she'd stick out like a zit on a smooth face, and the idea of her wandering the streets alone in that gownâvulnerable and completely out of placeâmade him feel like an even bigger jerk.
"Get in," he said abruptly, jerking his head toward the passenger side of the truck.
Her brows furrowed. "Pardon me?"
"I said get in," he repeated, less harshly this time. "I'll take you back to my apartment. Just for tonight. You can figure out whatever it is you need to do for tomorrow."
Felicity hesitated, her green eyes searching his face for a long moment. Then, with a small nod, she moved toward the passenger door. Gavin climbed back into the driver's seat, waiting as she carefully gathered the flowing fabric of her gown and slid inside.
As he drove, silence filled the cab of the truck. He kept his eyes fixed on the road, but his thoughts churned relentlessly.
"What made you change your mind?" she asked softly, breaking the quiet.
Gavin exhaled sharply. "You're dressed like you just walked off a medieval film set, Felicity. If I leave you out here, someone's going to call the copsâor worse. You wouldn't make it through the night without ending up on the news."
He thought about mentioning what his mother had told him, but he quickly decided against it.
Her lips quirked up in a small smile, but she didn't respond.
He clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the warmth of her presence beside him. The scent of lilacs lingered in the air again, and he caught himself breathing it in before shaking his head. Focus, Gavin.
When they arrived at his apartment complex, Gavin parked the truck. They exited in silence and walked up to the door. Using his key, he opened the front door and allowed her inside first before following and closing the door. "Look, my place isn't much, but it's safe."
Slowly, she moved around the living room and peeked into the kitchen. When she turned toward him, her eyes were wide. "You live here?"
"Of course. I'm not the type of person who just walks into someone else's house and takes over, you know." Perhaps he shouldn't have been so rude. He blamed it on feeling confused and tired. "You can stay in the living room. I'll grab some blankets for the couch."
She nodded graciously. "Thank you, Gavin. I know you don't trust me, but I appreciate your kindness."
He rolled his eyes. "Don't get used to it."
Gavin felt another wave of discomfort. His place was a small, one-bedroom unit, and while it wasn't a total mess, it wasn't exactly presentable either. He tossed his keys on the counter and gestured toward the couch.
"That's where you'll sleep for the night," he said, heading to the closet to grab some spare blankets and a pillow.
When he returned, Felicity was already seated on the couch, her hands resting in her lap as she looked around curiously. She didn't say anything about the mismatched furniture or the pile of unopened mail on the coffee table, and for some reason, that made Gavin relax a little.
"Where did you sleep last night?" he asked, suddenly wondering if she was homeless.
"Oh, I flitted from one place to another." A blush covered her cheeks. "But I made it through the night."
He handed her the blankets. "Here. If you need anything, don't... I don't know, don't go digging through my stuff. Just knock on my door and ask."
Felicity smiled, her eyes warm. "I won't touch anything. You have my word."
He nodded, retreating to his bedroom. But as he closed the door behind him, he couldn't shake the feeling that his life had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.