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July 27 - July 30, 2023
Anfar, come to my aid, tell her she is misjudging me.” “I think she is judging you just fine.”
“Take my hand, little witch.” She hesitated. “Just dinner?” “If you wish.”
“Am I now a backstabbing liar?” Valroy’s tone dropped to a low growl. “That remains to be seen.”
She should not find his company enjoyable. She should not yearn for his touch. His laugh. His smile.
“Why so dour, little witch?” A wing talon grabbed the back of her chair and dragged her a foot closer to him. “I hate to see you so very glum.”
“Yes. Until you cheer up. I dislike wherever your thoughts traveled, and I will continue to distract you”—he
“I dislike you very deeply.” “No. I do not believe you do.”
She was alive. And she was here.
She was so warm and soft. She had been beautiful as a mortal, but now, as a fae? He found the overwhelming need to touch her. He kissed her jawline.
“I want to lay you down in a field of grass and flowers,” he murmured, his words only for her. “I want to kiss every inch of your naked body and make good on my threat to count every single freckle you own.” He tightened his grasp on her thigh, just a little. “I want to bring you pleasure like you have never known. I will make you feel as though you are amongst the stars. You will feel such bliss, Abigail…that is all I want from you.”
Who was he to beg for affection? Who was he to ask for such a thing? He felt like a pauper, hands outstretched, begging for a scrap. “Kiss me…please.”
He leaned into her touch, just the smallest amount, letting his eyes slide half shut.
“I simply want you here beside me.”
“May I have that kiss from you, Abigail?”
All the smug darkness had left him, and what she saw in its place was only…affection. True affection.
He leaned into her touch, his eyes slipping shut in turn, as if he were starved for the sensation.
“I find your sadness hurts me as if it were my own. Your death…I thought a piece of me died with you that day, and I would never get it back.”
“Kiss me, Abigail. Please. No tricks. No deals. No trades. Just a kiss.”
When he reached out to her, she crawled into his embrace, laid her head upon those blue ink markings of his, and shut her eyes.
That he was doomed to be here beside her, no matter the course, or else he might as well be dead in the ground. I love her. By the stars, I love her. And I am terrified of what that means.
To see him watching her. Sapphire eyes were lidded, and his expression was still serene.
He smiled at her. “Don’t let me stop you.” There was so much warmth in those words, she did not know what to do.
You give me those large, sad, doe eyes…and I will give you anything you ask for.” He tutted. “How evil. How perfectly manipulative of you.”
“You are too sweet.” He laughed and bent his head to kiss her cheek. “I will rot my teeth with you.”
“What?” “Marveling at you, that is all.”
“Can I trust you?” “Trust me?” He huffed. “Of course you can trust me!”
He nodded once, as if he truly understood. And that broke her heart even further.
“I could think of few better ways to spend my time.” As he led her away, she was beginning to realize…neither could she.
Something glittered in his eyes. Something deeper than affection. It made her face grow even hotter.
He could kiss her until the stars blinked away and died. He could drown himself in her, drink his fill of her, and still be needy for more.
“Do you surrender?” Her reply was breathless. “Yes.”
I will protect you. I will love you. I will set the sky aflame for you. But I cannot change who I am. I cannot change what I was made to be. Not even for you. And my heart will shatter to pieces for it.
Abigail was…happy. There was peace in his embrace.
Love. He truly did love her. And gods above, below, and all the ones in between, she was beginning to feel the same.
This leads me to two conclusions. Either my mother made you Unseelie in disguise, or you, my darling, sweet, wonderful, savory, treacherous little Seelie witch, are up to something.”
He was smiling up at her, sapphire eyes glittering in happiness and, well, love.
I will do my best to see you hate me. Does that please you?”
“You will be my queen, or I shall be dead. You must decide which it is you want. For I cannot—I shall not—live without you, Abigail.” He tightened an arm around her. “And I am quite pleased to say you shall have no say in the matter, dear witch.”
For if he died…he might take her with him.
The goat gave you a chance to right your wrongs, and you ran and hid like a spoiled brat.”
Perhaps she was just as naïve as they all claimed her to be.
Darkness had come. And the darkness was angry.
Both parties had come for war. And it was her fault.
“I do not hate the wolf because it eats the sheep.”
His army. He had been willing to fight for her.
“Did you think I would ever let you go? The woman I loved died once before my eyes. I was not about to let it happen twice.”
“Foolish girl…you could have asked for ten thousand years, and I would have given it to you.”
“You are a fool, Abigail Moore.”
He was her hunter, but he was also, in the strangest possible way, her safety.
He would have his crown, his queen, and his war.
