The Disgraced Fae by Shari L. Tapscott EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Shari L. Tapscott
- Language: English
- Genre: New Adult & College Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
ELEANOR
I drop the rose, startled by the sudden bite of the thorn. The flower falls,
scattering deep pink petals on the stone walkway. As I stare at it, images
churn in the darkness that masks my past.
Slowly, I pull my eyes to my hand. Blood beads on my finger, triggering
a memory. A kitten and a boy. A secluded rose garden that was hidden
behind a hedge.
I don’t remember the boy’s name, nor do I recall what he looked like. I
don’t even know if he exists. Mrs. Hadasee said he’s a figment of my
imagination—a character leftover from stories I made up when I first came
to the orphanage. An imaginary friend, desperately needed.
I turn eighteen in a few weeks. I should have forgotten about him years
ago, but I hold him close, not caring that he wasn’t real. He’s the only
person who’s been with me for as long as I can remember—from the time
before the accident stole my memories.
But I don’t talk about him anymore—I haven’t since the doctor came to
speak to me when I was thirteen. He said it wasn’t normal for a girl my age
to believe in such things.
People begin to think you’re mad.
I’m just about to reach for the rose when a young man steps up behind
me and retrieves it from the ground. When he straightens, he offers it to me.
“Mind the thorns.”
I stare at him, startled—and not just because I didn’t hear him approach.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” I say.
The boys’ dormitory is on the west side of the orphanage grounds; the
girls’ is on the east. The central school building and the vegetable garden
are the only places we’re allowed to coexist, and only during lessons, our
scheduled chore hours, and planned social events. And this is none of those.
The young man looks up from the rose, his eyes capturing my attention.
They’re green, dark but deeply saturated, with golden flecks. It’s a summer
shade—the color of grape leaves backlit by the evening sun.
“I’m the new groundskeeper.” His voice is rough, like he hasn’t used it
for several hours.
“The groundskeeper?” I ask, taking him in.
He has coffee-colored hair, dark brows, and a shadow along his jaw.
He’s handsome—the kind of handsome we don’t usually see in this small
village. In fact, he’s the sort of man you look at twice just to make sure your
eyes didn’t deceive you the first time.
And now that I’m looking at him, I can’t convince myself to look away.
I quickly realize he’s too old to belong in the orphanage. He must be at least
twenty or older, several years past the age they evict us.
I slowly slide my small pair of scissors into my apron pocket, lowering
my eyes. “Please don’t report me to Mrs. Hadasee.”
I only have a few more weeks here. I’d hate to spend them reorganizing
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