In theory, fays could live forever, but each spell they cast cost them a day of life. After three thousand years and more than twice as many spells, Rumpelstiltskin is dying. He knows it, he doesn’t even fear it. It just pisses him off – because there is a way for a fay to beat that fate, and somehow, he’d always believed he’d manage it. With less than a year left on earth, he’s given up hope. Three hundred spells. Three hundred days… Parents are supposed to be protective and all; as far as she can remember, Aria’s have used her. They’ve used her beauty, at first, entering her into as many pageants as possible, then, when her career as a designer took off, they used her name to further their own standing. She’d never imagined that they might push it that far, though. There’s no way out of her situation – her parents owe her captor too much for him to relinquish her. There’s nothing she can do. Unless a pile of gold somehow appears before morning…