Tin (Faeries of Oz, #1)

by Candace Robinson

“If you’re Dorothy,” he said carefully, “Where’s your little rat, Tutu?” Her eyes narrowed. “Toto.” “That’s what I said.”

He may not consider her a friend anymore, but she still considered him one as she remembered his smile to her, from long ago, once more.

“Once a villain dies, another always rises. Good doesn’t always conquer evil.

“Tell me who I need to kill, because I don’t think you did this to yourself.” He stiffened at her words. The thought of Dorothy killing anyone made him irrationally protective of her and her still-pure heart.

Dorothy bit down on her bottom lip and met his gaze. Instead of fear, Tin found sorrow. Pity, as it turned out, wasn’t the worst look he could receive.

Tin gripped the fabric over his chest. Something behind his breastbone cracked, shattered, exploded and a painful pounding suddenly assaulted him from the inside out. He gasped, his wide gaze locking onto Dorothy’s sleeping form. The raging pulse in his ears, the heavy thump thump thump beneath his ribs. His heart. It was back. Fuck!

“It’s yours,” he vowed. “You resurrected my heart when I thought it was gone forever, so its fate is yours. Rip it out and burn it to ash if that makes you happy. But know this: no matter how long you allow me to keep it, I will cherish this gift and use it to protect you.”

He embraced her back, and mumbled beautiful words at the crook of her neck, “You may use me however you wish.”

“My axe is yours, Thelia. My axe, my life, and my heart.” “I promise to take care of them,” she replied with tears glistening in her eyes. “Always.”