Page 5 of Sugar Plum Fae
"Hardly," Roderick scoffed, his mind already racing with strategic countermeasures. But deep down, amidst the turmoil of his thoughts, he couldn't help but wonder what might happen if it did. If he dared kiss her in reality instead of in the relative safety of the dreamlands.
Banishing those traitorous thoughts, he stormed over to a map of Whitlock that hung on the wall, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the town. It was small and unassuming, yet the potential threat it posed to his realm if he lost it to the sunsidhe weighed heavily on him. He considered his options, his mind calculating each possible outcome.
"Ben Whitlock will need to know about this." Roderick reached for a quill and parchment. He scribbled a hasty note, his hand shaking with barely suppressed rage.
"Warn him about the sunsidhe," he instructed Nox, who took the scroll with a nod.
The moon illuminated the courtyard as Roderick stood at the window, his eyes fixed on the horizon. He could feel the cold seeping through the glass, but it was nothing compared tothe icy tendrils of anger wrapping around his heart. Candace's carriage, a confectionary delight pulled by unicorns, soared in the distance, its path traced by a trail of shimmering fairy dust.
"Of all the realms she could have chosen," he muttered, his breath fogging the windowpane. "Why Whitlock?"
"Perhaps she finds it... charming?" Nox ventured, its luminous eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Charming," Roderick snorted, rolling his eyes. “It is a small town. No more. No less. She’s looking to lessen my influence and broaden hers. I will not allow it. I’ll go down to Whitlock myself and toss her out on her pretty little ass.”
His conviction echoed through the dark chambers of his castle, a reminder that while the sun might rise, the night would always follow. And Roderick Stone, the god of nightmares and despair, would not be easily vanquished.
Chapter Two
Candace
Candance parked her carriage in Whitlock’s forest and left the unicorns to forage. Walking into town, she strolled down the lamp-lined lane. The townspeople paused to stare at her. Candace recognized their faces from her dreams—the baker, the blacksmith, the old widow who lived in the shoe. But instead of joy, she saw weariness and melancholy weighing down their spirits.
Intent on spreading her light during the dark solstice days, Candace waved and called holiday greetings. Lips tugged into smiles and eyes lit up, if only for a moment.
She vowed not to leave until the people of Whitlock rediscovered their own inner light again. She knew with patience and care, she could nurture their dreams once more. But as she continued through town, a nagging doubt crept in. Perhaps not all dreams wished to be found.
Candace caught sight of a brooding figure through the frosted glass of a quaint coffee shop: Roderick Stone, perched on a stool with the aloofness of a shadow in a sunlit glade.
She pushed open the door, a tinkling bell announcing her arrival to an otherwise silent audience. Roderick's eyes lifted, and for a moment, the world seemed suspended between their opposing energies.
"Leave Whitlock," he commanded, his voice a low rumble that clashed with the soft jingle of holiday tunes.
"It didn’t work in the dream, and it won’t work now."
"Your essence doesn't belong here."
"Seems to me that joy is exactly what this place needs."
"Your kind of joy burns in a town like this."
"Only if you're scared of a little warmth. But I guess that's your thing, isn't it? Keeping everyone cold and afraid."
Roderick's frown deepened, and the shadows in the room leaned in closer. "You think you can just waltz into my town and sprinkle your sugary fantasies over everything?"
"Better than sulking over bitter coffee." Her gaze drifted to his untouched cup. "Tell me, does it taste as joyless as you look?"
"Careful, sunsidhe." He rose, towering over her menacingly.
The air crackled with unsaid promises, each breath shared pulling them closer to an unknown precipice. They were going to kiss again. If she was honest, this was the real reason why she was here.
Candace leaned forward this time, her fingertips touching his broad shoulders, and stood up on her tiptoes to press her mouth against his. Her lips parted slightly to let in his tongue to dance with hers. A tingle ran down her spine as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. This was even better in real life than in the dream.
They kissed like they were at war, battling for dominance. Sunshine and shadow swirled around them. Candace couldn’t breathe, didn’t want to breathe. She just wanted to keep tasting his mouth on hers. His hard body pressed her into the counter. She was losing herself to the pleasure of his harsh caresses.
But just as their passion was reaching a point of no return, a clatter of plates shattered the moment. They pulled apart, panting, their lips swollen. Their eyes locked in a mix of desire and frustration. The café owner stared at them wide-eyed. "Sorry, folks. Butterfingers," he stammered before scurrying to clean up the mess.
Candace took a shaky step away, her cheeks flushed and heart racing. Roderick's gaze bore into her, his chest rising andfalling with ragged breaths. The intensity between them was undeniable, but so was the chasm of their differences.