In the 17th Century, the ancient sprawl of Epping forest is bursting with magic and those who go unseen by human eyes: the elves who rule the summer court, and the goblins who rule the winter court. It is said that if a human catches the eye of one of the fey, they are either doomed or blessed. Contains the stories: Wulfren and the Warlock: When Wulfren wakes from a strange dream of a human captor with long silver hair, and grey eyes, his brothers tell him they rescued him from a warlock, and take Wulfren back home to the goblin king's palace. But Wulfren isn’t so sure the matter is that simple. Why was he missing so long? What are the strange dreams of the beautiful man with the silver hair? Dalliances with humans are severely frowned upon, especially by Wulfren’s father, but Wulfren is willing to risk the scorn of his family to find the human who haunts his dreams. Quiller and the Runaway Prince: After a hard winter, Quiller is sent deep into the forest on a family errand, and is surprised when a human stumbles into his path. Quiller swoops in to pester him, perhaps even eat him, but there is something special about the human: his scent is royal, though he protests that he is not, and soon Quiller finds himself agreeing to help the human with his troubles—in exchange for a kiss.

Goblins

A look of indignation drew his brows together. “You’re worried about me being old enough? How dare you!”


“He who dares.” I chuckled. “Don’t be so affronted, my pretty. I can’t tell how old you humans are, and I don’t want to do something wrong to you.”


The colour in his cheeks deepened. “I think you are assuming too much, sir! You said a kiss, nothing more.”


“Nothing more.” As long as I don’t get carried away.


“All right, I will. He shall be saved!”


Cashel huffed out a sigh. “Very well, then. I agree to your terms, sir. Quiller.”


A shiver broke over me as he said my name. The feathers in my hair quivered. “Good.” I spat into my right hand, and held it out to him. “Then let us shake on it, fair prince.”


He stared at my hand, indignant again. “You don’t expect me to—”


“Do you want to save that juke person or not?”


“Duke.” He sighed. “Yes, I do.”


Chapter 37