Wren immediately swung his legs over the side of the bed. He’d been intending to stand upright, to face the elder Blackthorn on similarly equal footing as opposed to having the man stare down his nose at him, but Wren almost immediately regretted the quick movement.

Pain laced through both his leg and arm and he slowly sunk back down on the bed. His breathing ragged, he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the pain away and promising himself he wouldn’t let his eyes start watering up in front of Ash’s father. He released a staggered breath as the pain subsided enough for him to look up and meet Mr. Blackthorn’s gaze again.

The older man stood with his arms crossed, but he was silent and did not seemed to be suffering from any sort of impatience. His expression was passive, almost bored. His stance and bearing reminded Wren so much of the man’s son that it was almost painful to look at the elder Blackthorn. He could easily imagine that this would be what Ash himself would look like in a few years… or a few centuries.

That sobering thought had him wondering how old Mr. Blackthorn was, how old Ash was – and most sobering of all – how long a fae’s life span was compared to a human’s?

“Are you quite done?” Mr. Blackthorn’s voice contained an edge of impatience that his expression hadn’t given away. Interrupted from his rather bleak thoughts, Wren gave his undivided attention to the elder Blackthorn.

“Yes, sir.” He said nervously. “Ah… what did you need with me?”

“I’ve become aware of the fact that my son seems to harbor some measure of affection for you.” Blackthorn said. “He hasn’t consummated the marriage, after all.”

Wren felt embarrassment heat his cheeks. “Ah, no… I-“

Blackthorn interrupted his frantic stammering.

“Ash spends a lot of time with you, and while I’m sure you and my son do not past the time discussing the weather, he has at least adhered to my command.” The auburn-haired man leveled his gaze on Wren. “If he didn’t hold any sort of affection for you, he would have taken his pleasure and left you to your fate.”

Wren remembered back to when he’d first met the Blackthorn’s, how they’d easily discussed his impending demise in the event of “consummation.” Wren tried to suppress the shiver that laced along his spine.

If the elder Blackthorn noticed his discomfit, the older man didn’t commit on it. Wren didn’t know if that were due to some sort of mercy or if the man just didn’t care. Wren suspected the latter.

“I made a deal with Ash that he could keep you as a pet.” Blackthorn said. “However, I realize he wouldn’t be pleased with that arrangement. Watching you grow old and waste away… the grief he would experience would distract him from his responsibilities as heir to the estates.” Blackwood said. “So, I’ve reached another decision, one that I haven’t told anyone, even Ash.”

“What do you mean?” Wren asked.

“I made a deal with my son, however unpleasant it may be, it is one option. But, I would like to make a deal with you as well.” Blackwood replied.

“A d-deal?” Wren stuttered.

“I think you would find this particular deal more fulfilling. Ash would as well.”

“Okay…” Wren said. He paused for a moment, then choosing his words carefully, he continued. “But, what are the terms? Of the deal, I mean?”

“You must have Enchanter’s blood somewhere in your bloodline, even if it’s only a smidgen’s worth, else you would have never been able to even perceive the marriage feast with the naked eye, much less make the pact.” Blackwood explained.

Wren’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Enchanter’s blood?”

“You can become a proper ‘bride’ and live a fae’s lifespan alongside my son as his consort, but you must first undergo a series of tests and pass them satisfactorily.”

“You mean, like in the fairytales?” Wren asked.

Mr. Blackthorn’s lips twitched, threatening a smile. The movement was almost imperceptible, but Wren was so used to Ash’s capacious expressions it seemed he’d trained himself to look for the merest change of emotion.

“Where do you think the stories come from?” Blackthorn asked.

Wren chewed his bottom lip thoughtfully. The deal seemed almost too good to be true. He was certain the tasks would be challenging, even nearly impossible, if fairytales were to be any sort of guide. But, a chance to remain by Ash’s side? Would Ash even want that? Want him, for the rest of a fae’s lifespan?

“And if I don’t succeed?” Wren dared to ask.

“Then, you go back to the human world and never see this place or Ash again.”