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August 8 - September 29, 2024
“Isn’t that what all human women wish for? A handsome faerie lord to wed and shower them with riches for the rest of their lives?”
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⌞giselle⌝
So unaware of the true extent of how broken and dark I was inside. How unfit I was to be clothed in white when my hands were so filthy.
“I’m thinking that I was a lonely, hopeless person, and I might have fallen in love with the first thing that showed me a hint of kindness and safety. And I’m thinking maybe he knew that—maybe not actively, but maybe he wanted to be that person for someone. And maybe that worked for who I was before. Maybe it doesn’t work for who—what I am now.”
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“To the people who look at the stars and wish, Rhys.” He picked up his glass, his gaze so piercing that I wondered why I had bothered blushing at all for Tarquin. Rhys clinked his glass against mine. “To the stars who listen—and the dreams that are answered.”
Mate. Rhysand was my mate. Not lover, not husband, but more than that. A bond so deep, so permanent that it was honored over all others. Rare, cherished. Not Tamlin’s mate. Rhysand’s.
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