Free The Hybrid by Lauren Shelton

have done
the same thing if I were curious about that sort of thing.”
He looked at the ground.
“So, how old are you?” Tru had to change the subject.
She felt horrible that she made him feel so sad, so helpless, and alone.
“Older
than
most
people.” He
smirked.
His pearly
white teeth were visible through the small sliver of space
between his lips.
Vague. Too vague, Tru thought.
He suddenly began to fidget.
“Then how old would you say people might think you
are?” To Tru, he looked about seventeen, her age, maybe
even eighteen. But would he stay looking that way for
much longer?
“I have not yet asked any⎯ people⎯ but if I were to
ask, I am almost certain they would say that I appear to
be seventeen human years old.”
I was right .
“But I have been alive much longer than that. One of
our years is about twenty of yours.” He crossed his arms
over his chest. “One night of mine, is twenty of yours.”
“So wait a minute,” Tru did the math quickly in her
head, her eyebrows curling on her forehead, “you’re telling me that you’re almost three hundred and fifty years
old?”
“Roughly.” He put a hand to his chin, as if he were doing the math himself. “I have lost track.”
Tru’s mouth fell open. She had expected him to say
something more realistic, that they didn’t keep track of
their years, or that he really was just seventeen years old.
Not three hundred and fifty.
He laughed quietly under his breath.
“Do you have any other siblings? I mean, other than
your brother?”
“No, it is just my brother and I. My father passed almost one hundred of your human years ago. My mother
left us shortly before that. I haven’t seen her since.” He
looked at Tru with his piercing eyes. She noticed that he
did not blink once as he spoke.
“What did your father die from?” Tru wondered what a
fairy could die from? And how long could a fairy live?
“He was murdered while he slumbered.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Tru wished instantly that she were
flexible enough to put her foot in her mouth. She seemed
to say exactly the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time.
“My father was the king of our colony. Death was inevitable. There is always someone looking to take power
away from authority.” He walked smoothly to the edge of
the trees. His head barely bobbed with each stride.
“So does that mean you’re the king now?” Tru watched
him as he made his way around the perimeter of the small
meadow. He didn’t look like a king, but that didn’t mean
that he didn’t look like he could be a leader some day.
“No.” He smiled as he stopped and stared at Tru. “I am
still currently just a prince. My brother is a year, one of
your human years, older than me. He is the king.” He
walked back toward her. “I love my brother. He is all I
have. But he has his rules, and he loves his rules.”
When he reached the spot in the meadow, less than a
foot away from where Tru was standing, his hand slowly
moved toward hers, resting at her side. She wanted to
reach for it, terribly. She wanted to feel the warmth of his
tan skin against hers once more. It was getting colder in
the open meadow, and the thought of this young man
warming her with just the single touch of his skin grew in
her mind. Tru’s heart began to beat faster in her chest,
each thump pounded in her head. She could feel her
cheeks beginning to blush again.
    Instantly, she felt her hand tingle. It was a sensation
that could not be forgotten. He held Tru’s hand in the air,
palm up, as he traced the lines in it with his index finger.
And as he began to speak again, he stared intently at her
hand.
    “If my brother knew I was talking to you again,” he
raised Tru’s hand to his chest and looked down into her
eyes “I,” he paused. Tru knew what he was thinking. She
probably would have paused too.
    Then, Tru sighed. “Your brother sounds, interesting.”
She hoped Edyn wouldn’t continue his sentence any further.
“He’s a good man.