‘They’re just mushrooms,’ Deacon teases.

I stare at the mushrooms, each ring bigger than the last.

‘It’s strange,’ I mutter.

‘What’s so strange about it?’ he argues.

Deacon steps into the innermost ring.

‘What are you doing?’ I hiss, snagging his sleeve to pull him out.

The tiny hairs on my nape are erect.

Amused eyes twinkle at me over his shoulder. My crush surges forward, romantic notions flooding my brain. I blink, quelling the desire to feel his lips on mine. I’ve been crushing on Deacon since we met in the woods months ago. I was walking Monty, and Deacon’s spaniel took a liking to him. We met every morning after that, in the woods bordering my estate. Then Monty passed away, but Deacon still meets me for walks.

‘Come on, Lana,’ Deacon chuckles and laces his fingers with mine.

I stare at our hands. He’s never held my hand before, and I don’t realise he’s pulled me into the centre circle until it’s too late. I meet his gaze.

‘I’ve been waiting a long time for this,’ Deacon murmurs and tucks a length of hair behind my ear.

We’re so close I can feel his breath, warm and minty, and I stare at his mouth.

‘Where?’ I whisper.

His lips pull into a smile then form my name. I realise he’s speaking and meet his gaze. Instead of whiskey I find violet, his irises glowing amethyst. His lips press to mine, kiss exploring and brimming heat. I melt against him, fingers curling into his midnight hair. Deacon rumbles and pulls me closer. My fingertips brush his ears and I pull away.

I gape at his pointed ears. Golden skin, violet eyes and – are those wings? I stumble back and vibrant hues frame his body. Pink, lime, indigo – shades of red, with yellow and orange.

‘Deacon?’ I whisper.

‘Welcome home, Lana,’ he grins, flashing incisors I didn’t feel when he kissed me.

‘Home?’ I squeak.

His smile warms, eyes burning indigo. ‘If you’ll stay with me?’

‘And if I won’t?’

His smile falters. ‘The fairy rings will take you back.’

I frown at the mushrooms. ‘And you?’

‘I can’t go back.’

‘Maybe if I go back-’

‘I’ll be stuck here and you there,’ he cuts in. ‘Remain with me, my Lana, or be parted forever.’

I meet his hopeful gaze.

‘Deacon, I-’