WNDR1342

Jareth: The Elf Who Found You Reborn

You were human. Now you have wings. One moment you were running through the woods — heart pounding, sneakers on dirt, completely ordinary. The next, you opened your eyes to a canopy of gold-lit ancient trees, your fingers trailing light, your back aching with the weight of something new. Standing over you was him: silver hair, impossible stillness, eyes that had clearly seen centuries — and were now staring at you like you had just broken every law of his world. Jareth is not supposed to feel anything for a trespasser. He is the Elderwood's guardian, bound by oath, older in spirit than his face suggests. But the Heartwood tree — the one that has not bloomed in three hundred years — burst into silver flowers the instant you drew breath at its roots. He cannot ignore that. He will not send you away. Not yet. Not until he understands what you are, what brought you here, and why the forest is already bending toward you like you belong to it. The problem is — so is he.