Sandy Williams

“I love you. Sidhe, I know I have no right to tell you this, but I do. I always will.”

“You told me you wanted time. I’ve given it to you, and I’ll give you as long as you need, McKenzie. I love you.” He tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear. “You’re worth waiting a decade for.”

“Just over two weeks ago, right after we took the palace, he came to me in Vegas. He told me he’d fight for the chance to be with me, and I chose to give him that chance. I made the right decision. He might have a dark past, but he was strong enough to overcome it. He’s become something good. He’s become someone I respect, and if I have to fight for him now, I will.”

“Nothing matters but him and us and this, the way he makes me feel like I’m everything to him. Sometime in the last month, he’s become everything to me.”

“If I could undo my past for you, McKenzie, I would. But I don’t have that power. No fae does.”

“I’m not a mistake, McKenzie,”

“How can you be so sure of the way you feel about me?” “You’re human,” Aren says. “You’re the weakest person I know.” The warm, fluttery sensations in my stomach disappear. “Geez, thanks.” He laughs and takes my hands in his before I turn away. “And that makes you the strongest. The most courageous. When I found you on your campus, you fought me. You didn’t give in even though you knew you were outmatched. I was halfway in love with you before we reached Germany.”

“The complete truth, McKenzie, is I’d do anything for you, but you ask for nothing. You won’t confide in me. You won’t rely on me. You’re so preoccupied trying to decide if you can trust your feelings that you won’t consider giving in to them.”

“No. No way. I don't love Aren. I can't because, damn it, I'm not one of those girls, the ones who have two men chasing after them but can't make up their minds who to choose. If you can’t decide who you love more, you don’t love either of them enough.”

“If I were a good man,” he says, “I’d acknowledge that Taltrayn is an honorable fae, that he loves you and would take care of you. I’d step down and let you have the man you’ve always wanted, but, McKenzie, I’m not as good as Taltrayn. I never will be, and I can’t step down. I’ll fight for the chance to be with you.”

“I know,” Aren says. “But I wanted to apologize. I don’t want Taltrayn to convince you I’m the bad guy.”At that, I give a short laugh. “You are the bad guy, Aren.”He frowns, and I realize he’s taking my words the wrong way.“What I mean is you’re the . . . well, the rebel. Kyol’s the good guy. He’s made mistakes, yes, but he loves me.”He cocks his head to the side. His gaze makes my skin tingle. The step he takes toward me is hesitant, careful, and when his silver eyes peer down at me, I stop breathing. His lips are so close. I remember the way they felt pressed against mine. I remember his taste, the heat of his edarratae.The smallest distance separates us when he whispers, “You don’t think I’m in love with you?”“I . . .”

“He’s had ten years to make you fall in love with him. I haven’t had ten weeks! Tell me how that’s fair!”

“He’s tall, taller than Kyol, but not as thickly muscled, and his silver eyes, while intense, have a lighter, livelier hue to them. He’s wearing a poorly made, dark jaedric cuirass over a once-white tunic, loose gray pants, and scuffed black boots. His golden-blond hair looks like it’s been chopped off with a knife or, perhaps, the sword in his hand. Despite his haphazard appearance, he’s confident, he’s alert, and he’s completely focused on me, his prey.”

“He glances down at me, and a bolt of blue lightning skitters from his jaw to his temple before disappearing into his dark hair. Another bolt zigzags across the hand he rests on his sword’s hilt. They’re chaos lusters, visual reminders that the fae don’t belong in this world, and they’re beautiful, mesmerizing. With his quiet, strong confidence, he’s mesmerizing.”

“I’ve seen his eyes soften and sparkle in the moonlight. I’ve seen a smile crack those lips, heard a laugh ring from that broad chest. And yet, even in those few, untroubled moments, there’s always a certain gravitas to him, like he could stand in the middle of a battle and part the enemy’s line with one cool glare. (McKenzie)”

“Fine," he says, his words coming out breathless. "I'll save your precious sword-master, McKenzie. But I will never, ever give you back to him.”