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“You know what’s worse than fearing you’ll never be loved?” He stood and cracked his neck. “Knowing you never will.”
It was exactly at that point, as she began drifting off to sleep that was spurred by sheer exhaustion, that Abigail came to a conclusion. Loving someone did not preclude wishing to punch them in the face.
“I would not ask you to be anything but what you are. I love you more than I can put into words, my little witch. My Seelie. My queen. My adversary. If I want you to love me as I truly am, how could I do anything but give you the same respect?”
“No!” He rounded on her, his wings spreading wide with a crack. “I will love whatever crawls out of this place, broken in soul as it may be. I will love you, no matter what becomes of you. No matter the shape the Morrigan gives you, or what the gods might task you with. Be you worms, or flies, or trees, my heart is yours.”
“My little witch…my Seelie Queen. No matter what we shall endure. No matter what becomes of us. My sunlight. My glowing blossoms. My living heart. I will not stop until I defeat you. And I will relish every moment I fail. I love you.”
