“I can’t force my mate to appear, Gareth.” I try to run a hand through my hair, but my silver crown stops me. How many times had I wished for my mate? Only the ancestors knew. But no winter realm high fae have felt the mate bond in 150 years, not since I defeated the necromancer and won the throne. Some dark magic took hold as I twisted my blade through his black heart, and none have been able to break it since.
