Quintus Bonus Chapter - Fae and Crystal Thorns
Bonus Chapter for Book 1: Flame and Crystal Thorns
BEFORE
QUINTUS HAD NOTHING LEFT.
His knees dug into the soft soil beneath them. The pleasant chirps and scritches of the demorogs above brought him no pleasure. He’d grown fond of the sound, especially recently. Waking up to it felt like a fresh new day full of possibilities.
But now?
Now he had nothing. He couldn’t wake up to the sound of demorogs outside his window when he no longer had any windows. Now he had no home at all.
Tree roots splintered above the ground in broken piles. The tree trunks that had once formed the walls of his home now lay scattered across the mossy forest floor in chips of rotted wood.
Shriveled and faded leaves dropped over the decayed wood pieces. A rug made of mossy fibers bunched up against a large pile of decomposed timber and leaves.
Stretching out his fingers, he pulled the rug away. Maybe part of it had survived the destruction. Maybe he could keep the rug and use it again. It wouldn’t be the same as the magical trees that once formed his home, but it would be something.
But as he tugged the rug off the ground, he realized only a short square of it remained. It had only appeared bunched up because of the item underneath.
His eyes flew open. His heart skipped an entire beat.
A chunk of wood had survived. A small piece of his home now lay before him.
Trembling worked through his fingers as he ran them over the wood block. The small piece of rug must have protected it from the annihilation that claimed the rest of his trees.
The shaking in his fingers multiplied when he took the wood block into his hands. The chunk was mostly square and about as long and as thick as his forearm. It wouldn’t be big enough to craft several items from, but he would be able to craft at least one item from it. One item as special as the wood block itself.
No one else would understand how important it was, but then, he knew something about his home that no one else did. He had always called his home his first creation, the first thing he ever crafted.
In truth, he hadn’t crafted it at all. His hands had moved, his ideas had helped to mold it, but the magic hadn’t come from him.
The magic had come from Faerie itself. At first, he assumed that was just how it felt to use magic. But in talking to other fae, he quickly realized that while he could use magic, he didn’t have magic. Not like the other fae did anyway.
And even though fae couldn’t lie, he had always managed to phrase things in just the right way that no one ever learned how different he really was.
Faerie itself had given him the magic to build his home. Faerie itself had always been there for him when he had no one else.
It gave him shelter. It found him food. It gave him a way to hide his lack of magic. It even made him appear older than he should have.
According to Faerie rules, a fae did not become an adult until he discovered his magic. Quintus had lived longer than most of the fae he knew, and yet, he had been without magic for nearly all his life.
He had gotten so good at crafting that everyone assumed he used magic to do it. Whenever he did need magic, Faerie itself provided. His skill became so well known that he never had to say his greatest magic was in crafting. Other fae always said it for him. Faerie itself helped him open doors and craft magnificent items, lending him just enough magic whenever he needed it.
But then one day, his magic had come.
It filled him like a hot fire and a blast of sharp wind. Abilities coursed through him that he had only ever dreamed of before that. He could finally experience magic. It finally belonged to him and not to Faerie itself. The magic only came once he learned to do something he had long since forgotten or maybe had never known how to do at all.
To feel.
The ability to feel hadn’t come on its own. Just like the magic Faerie itself had given him when he needed it, his first feelings had sparked only after getting a little help. Help from a person.
A mortal girl with long blonde hair, pretty blue eyes, and a face that could stop his heart with a single smile.
The moment he first saw Chloe, his entire world changed. She barged into his life, forcing him to change and grow more than he was ready for. And even though the change had been frightening and unsettling, he always wanted more. More of it. More of her. For the first time ever, he finally felt alive.
And then she left.
She had said she never wanted to see him again.
His magic had stayed, but it wasn’t as good. It wasn’t as strong.
He gripped the wood block to his chest, breathing in its mossy, almost papery scent. Crackling energy still buzzed inside the wood that had once formed his home. Faerie had always given him help when he needed it. Somewhere deep in his gut, he knew this wood block had survived for a reason.
He would find something special to do with it. The wood chunk represented more than just a piece of his old home. It represented survival, of living even when he should have died.
After carefully tucking the wood block into his magical pocket, he took out his sketchbook and pencil. Even amidst the rubble of his broken home, the objects brought comfort.
The soft cover of the sketchbook fit perfectly in his hands. Its familiar scent of parchment and leather grounded him when nothing else could. The sound of his pencil gliding across the smooth paper surface put his mind into a focused sort of trance. Like many of his crafted projects, his fingers started drawing even before he fully formed a specific idea in his mind.
Maybe he couldn't control what had happened, but he could do what he had always done when circumstances knocked him down. He could craft.
His fingers gripped the pencil at different angles depending on how light or dark he wanted the lines. It helped that he had already sketched and crafted an object like this before. Now his fingers already innately knew the correct proportions.
The end sketch had the potential to become a stunning and magical end product. He ran a finger over the drawing while wearing a slight frown. The block of wood he had found wouldn't be big enough. He'd have to supplement it with lumber from another tree, but he could still do it.
He could make the harp that now graced the page of his sketchbook. He'd put carvings of ink pots and feather quills into its pillar. Hopefully, it could work as a peace offering.
The design was perfect for a certain mortal girl who loved to read, one who could make music like he had never heard before. Her music may have started on harp strings, but it always ended somewhere deep in his heart long after the last note had been played.
Yes, Chloe liked harps. She could play even better than her older sister. If he presented her with a harp with a pillar made from the most magical of all Faerie trees, would she perhaps forgive him?
Quintus had nothing left, except that small block of wood. Could it be that the small chunk was all he needed?
Maybe, just maybe, he’d get to see her again someday. He’d make it right between them. He’d fix the mistake that drove them apart.
Then maybe he’d be able to admit to the parts of his past he’d always buried. Maybe then he could tell her who had destroyed his home.
And why.
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About Flame and Crystal Thorns
Quintus needs a mortal. Specifically, he needs Chloe. Mortals with iron weapons are destroying Faerie, and only she can stop them. She knows the realm, she has a sister to save, and she's the only one who can withstand their poisonous flames.
But she refuses to return. She claims to have a life in the mortal realm, healing common sicknesses and batting her eyelashes at human men. She doesn't understand the danger, the urgency. She doesn't remember the connection they once shared.
He will have to convince her, even if it means dragging her back to Faerie himself. He will protect her, of course, but he won't let her stubbornness be the downfall of his entire world.
Flame and Crystal Thorns is the captivating first book in the Fae and Crystal Thorns fantasy romance series. If you love grumpy heroes, forced proximity, and a world of immersive magic, you'll love Kay L. Moody's enchanting read. Choose which way to read and begin your adventure today.
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ "Everything I had hoped this fae fantasy book would be. The love interest had me swooning!"
All About Quintus
Quintus is the epitome of a broody, arrogant fae warrior. He's tall, impossibly handsome, and convinced Chloe is the only one who can save his world. He's demanding and frustrating, but beneath the surface is a fierce protector who is undeniably drawn to the mortal he once knew.
If you live for banter, forced proximity, the "I hate you, but I can't stop thinking about you" dynamic, and slow burn tension, then this series is for you!
⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ "Beautifully written romantasy and such a fun read."
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A: Yes! This series has a medieval feel with lots of magic, an immersive Faerie world, and enough swoon-worthy romantic scenes to keep you kicking your feet and giggling to yourself.
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The Grumpy Fae Warrior
He will have her, or he will have nothing.
Quintus has one mission: drag Chloe back to Faerie, whether she likes it or not. A mortal army is using iron to poison his realm and capture his people. Only Chloe, a mortal who knows their world, can get close enough to stop them.
But she's stubborn. She claims to prefer her dusty apothecary and the company of simple human men. She has conveniently forgotten the spark between them, the connection he has never been able to forget.
He doesn't have time to for her blushing or her defiance. He has a world to save, and if she won't come willingly, he'll simply remind her of what's at stake, and that includes her own family.
Craving a broody fae warrior who will do anything to protect what's his? Start the series and meet your new obsession today!
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