Chapter 1:

My name is Robin Goodfellow. More commonly known as Puck – yes, the Puck – the original trickster of the faeries, the daring adventurer, the one who always seems to screw things up...

Yup, that's me. And as I flew away from my one and only happy ending, I couldn't help thinking that at least this time I screwed up my life, not someone else's. It was hard, though, moving away from the one thing I really wanted. Hard to think that the next time I saw Meghan and Ash, they were a package deal, and there was no hope for me. After the journey through dark forests and other places, most of which seemed to slip my mind the second I thought of them, I had become closer to Ash as a friend. I think he finally forgave me for… For past mistakes, and in return I was able to let Meghan go. Well, sort of. I still loved her. I always would, no matter what she thought of me. But she deserved, above everything, her happy ending – and that included a certain dark, Unseelie prince, not me. It was a piercing thought that made my chest ache (even as a bird) but I knew it was true.

The only reason I kept beating my glossy black raven wings was because I cared too much about both of them. Hah, look at that; Robin Goodfellow was going soft. Somehow I couldn't regret my decisions, though. I think I always secretly knew how it would turn out. Ash once said that he was cursed when it came to love, but he really has no idea.

I let out an anguished caw, spiralling down from the sky. All the things I'd messed up - especially the lives of those I'd loved – haunted me. Flashes of both Ariella and Meghan spiralled in my head, making it impossible to think straight. I had to land, to let myself calm down. I could lie; I could say I was fine, that life would go on. I suppose it wasn't completely untrue, because life would go on. I just didn't know whether or not I could manage to keep going with it in this state.

I tucked my wings, diving down through the air until I shed my feathers rapidly and became a faery again. I only barely registered I had landed in the Wyldwood, not pausing to care. I collapsed against a large tree, my eyes closed as the horrors of my past crashed down on me. A waterfall of images refused to stop, falling in front of my eyelids, not even slowing when they shut. Mistake after mistake popped up, taunting me. Voices blurred together, creating a swirl of chaos and hurt in my mind.

I don't know how long I stood there, mourning those of my past. I became a part of the forest; still and quiet. I wasn't sure how many other fey saw me. I didn't care, really, as I let my insides be torn apart by dark thoughts. If I didn't stop to let it all out I knew I wouldn't be able to move on. It was difficult mostly because I knew that now I was truly and utterly alone. Not even that damned cat was around. I was so used to being on some great mission, a quest to save the world, or a heart, or a soul, but now…? I was just Oberon's faithful (well, mostly) servant in the end with no hope for love. What a pathetically dramatic, tragic end to my story.

A sudden swish from the bushes in front of me forced the despair from my mind. I looked up warily, grabbing daggers from my boots. I was really not in the mood right now for fighting. I hoped my less-than-pleased expression alone might scare off whatever fey it was that insisted on annoying me. The bushes rustled again, however, louder this time. I stiffened, raising my daggers in front of my face. My demeanour changed in less than a second, going from heartbroken to attentive, then to deadly. I couldn't afford to mourn whilst something could possibly attack, no matter how much my insides ached. The instantaneous switch from pathetically emotional to pure fey was amazing. I couldn't help thinking, though, that whatever was moving around in the underbrush must be either extremely stupid - one did not simply wander the Wyldwood, bringing attention to oneself by rustling everything in the forest – or more powerful than me. Not even goblins were that stupid though, so the first option didn't look great.

I took a step towards the bushes, sticking my daggers out before me. My eyes scanned the places between the leaves and twigs, searching warily for a flash of something, anything-

And out of nowhere, a figure flung itself towards me with a loud shriek. I stepped nimbly out of the way and, acting on instinct, and twirled with a flourish of one dagger, bringing the weapon down towards whatever had attacked me. I barely stopped in time to register what exactly it was.

A girl no older than sixteen lay on the ground at my feet, whimpering slightly. I only barely stopped myself from running her through with my dagger. There were few things that startled me, but I had to admit, this one did. This girl was… Was human. A pure human, sitting right in front of me. A pure human girl wandering alone through the Wyldwood. Somehow, against all odds, she was still completely alive. The only thing registered in my mind was complete astonishment. Hey, ever need to get rid of some awful memories? A human girl flinging herself at you is sure to block them off for a bit. At least, it worked for me.

Maybe it was my expression, or perhaps the fact that I had a dagger at her throat, but the human's eyes started to water. She was breathing heavily I realised, staring wide eyed at me. She was small for a human and thin, with an almost faery-like build. Her skin was pale and fair and smooth, in great contrast to her dark chocolate brown hair that hung down around her shoulders in loose curls. Her eyes, still trained on me in fear, were pale grey with just a tint of blue around the pupil. And though her eyes were scared, her almost too red lips were curved into a defiant snarl.

"Who the hell are you?" I asked once I knew she was no threat, standing in one fluid movement while simultaneously depositing both daggers back into my boots. There were several other questions I wanted answered as well, but that was definitely first. I still couldn't believe I was staring down at a human girl. Luckily the many years I spent as a fey kept my expression neutral.

"What's it to you?" the girl snapped, voice wavering slightly. I could tell I intimidated her – but who wouldn't be intimidated? I was Puck, after all. My smirk alone could send shivers down your spine. In fact, I was a bit surprised she hadn't screamed at me and begged for me to leave her alone or something equally as unnecessary.

"You're really not in a position to ask questions," my voice was hard, but a smirk splayed across my mouth. I was curious, I had to admit, as to how she had survived this long in the NeverNever. And why she wasn't crazy or something. And, of course, why fate should decide I be the lucky fey to stumble across her. And really, after everything with the half-summer Princess, I was able to believe just about anything.

"I don't know if I can trust you," the girl amended, slowly sitting up. I just noticed now that she was dressed in a fancy dark red gown, one you would see a fey in. It curved over her figure in a very complimenting way, the furls of the dress hanging off her in a way that looked both perfect and effortless. I almost had to force my eyes off her.

"I didn't kill you, did I?" I raised an eyebrow, crossing my arms over my chest. I continued to study the girl carefully, wondering if maybe she was a play thing for one of the courts. She was pretty, after all. Perhaps it was a game of the Unseelie – release the mortal girl and see what kills her first. That's exactly the sort of heartless thing they would do…

The girl stared at me, her bottom lip trembling slightly. "My name? My name is…" her face was blank for a second, as if she were concentrating on something. I guessed what she was going to do only a second before she did it.

The girl leapt up suddenly, turning tail and running away from me like a frightened deer. She was fast for a human, but really no match for a fey – especially when she was tripping over her own feet through the deep bushes of the Wyldwood. I caught up to her in no time, grabbing round her waist to halt her movement. Geez, what did she think I was? A satyr? Didn't she know she would have been attacked by now was it not for me? In fact, she should be thanking her lucky stars it was ME that found her and not a goblin or red cap clan!

She turned however, screaming, and started beating her hands against my chest as If I was some sort of hellion. "Let. Me. Go!"

I held on lightly, just enough that she couldn't squirm away. "Calm down, would you? Hedge wolves must have heard you by now," I sighed, frowning at the forest around us. It took an effort to ignore the odd tingles along my skin where she touched me. Maybe she was a fourth – even an eighth – of a fey? I was a little more than slightly captivated by her. Perhaps she was part nymph? Maybe I was wrong, when I first thought she was fully human. I could tell the majority of her was human, but what if she had just a bit of fey running through her blood? It could explain the weird feelings sitting in my chest. Er, and why she wasn't mad already.

"If you won't tell me who you are, at least tell my why you're here. You do know where you are, right?" I asked wearily, shoving my thoughts aside for the moment. The girl was still pushing against me feebly, trying to escape. She gave up with a sob, tucking her head in her hands. I almost wanted to let her run away, let her sort out her own problems. Maybe the old Puck would have. But after everything… I wasn't quite as willing to send the at-least-mostly-human to her sure death alone in the forest.

"Don't take me back," she finally whispered. "Not to that horrid place."