Lord of Silver Ashes (Rowan Blood, #2)

by Kellen Graves

I have had these trinkets for some time. They come in pairs. When you touch one stone, its twin burns warm. Let’s use them during our agreement, to ensure the other person is always accounted for. ☼ as the beantighe-flower. ☾ as the master-fey. –Prince Master Cylvan dé Tuatha dé Danann.

Night Prince. (sídhe fey, wild). Spotted in yarrow fields and Danann House dormitories. Tall. Brod-shouldered. Long black hair. Horns (dragons?). More beautiful than leanan shees sidhes and daemons. Scary at first. Kind once he warms up to you. A thick skin that must be broken. Resoursefull. Top of his class. Smart and he knows it. Nipple-jewelrey. Well endowed. A soft mouth. Lovely to kiss. Plays the violin. Messy and cluttered. But still perfect.

“There are three ways to initiate the peak of the spell,” Saffron read aloud, still perched in the crook of Cylvan’s arm and using his horns as a bookrest. “It depends on our preferred method of emotional climax—sexual, physical, or metaphysical.” “That is definitely the most creative way you’ve asked me to fuck you.”