Where the Light No Longer Follows (Blue Fairytales, #3)

by Wendy Heiss

After so long in her duty as a Reaper, Silene knew for certain that if love was all it took to save someone, they’d all be eternal.

“What can I say? I like sad, pretty girls who look at me like they wish nothing more but to bury my existence six feet under.”

Gabriel wondered—he wondered if she’d always sensed him, if she knew he’d always been watching her for years, for hundreds of them.

Gabriel had not once kneeled before anything or anyone, king nor queen, God or Goddess, but for whatever he’d done to deserve her hate, he wanted to kneel before her and beg.

He wanted to remember her. Everything about her. He wanted everything about her engraved on his skin, for the ink to take root on his bones, for them to feed into his marrow.

“There hasn’t been a moment ever since the first time I found you that I’ve looked away.”

“Anything, you could make anything out of nothing. You gave more life to things than I ever could. Simply by touching them. You were magnificent. The rarest thing I’d laid my eyes upon,” he

“I want to give you everything, Silene. Let me give you everything.”

“I hate that I have to look up at you every time I do so,” she lied. He stepped close to her, almost making her drop from her chair again when he got down to his knees right there at her feet. “Now talk to me.”

“You smell like heaven.” Ignoring the chill that chased down her limbs, she said, “Didn’t know the heavens had a smell.” “Mine does.”

“You haven’t said a single word. Why did you even bring me here?” “To stare at you and show you off.”

“You’re so beautiful, Silene. I wanted someone to think you’re mine. Anyone. Even if only briefly.”

“My taunting eidolon, my lovely apparition, my beautiful phantom,” he murmured as a tear fell against the glass frame. “How many more nights must I mourn you?”

Her little careful smile grew as she watched their hands join, it bloomed into a grin, and for the first time in his existence, he learned what spring felt like to humans.

“If I gave you a dream, any dream, what would you want to dream about?” he murmured, his eyes fluttering from sleep. “I will give it to you.” “Too late,” she whispered. “I got my dream.”