Avery knew what protocol demanded. He knew that sacrificing a sliver of his identity had made him weaker, and he knew that he should be resting. It took a lot out of a fae sovereign to create a knight.
He was fully aware.
But he was much more aware of Selene…. He’d seen her through the knight’s eyes, standing tall and solitary, long bare legs exposed to the world, fine, shimmering hair brushing her cheeks in the softest breezes, unshed tears somewhere behind those unforgettable, ice blue eyes. He’d felt her aura through his knight’s perceptions, her depth and warmth and uncommon understanding of the world around her, her anger and indignation at the injustices in the mortal realm – her fire.
That had seared right through him with an intensity that literally took his breath away. He’d placed his hand to his heart as if he could quell her flames with his touch – anything to keep her from burning him alive in the magnificent inferno that was her spirit.
He’d been instantly hit with his own desire like a sledgehammer to his senses. Knocked defenseless. Just for a moment.
And then he was mobile.
There were ten thousand things wrong with the universe just then. There were always ten thousand things wrong with the universe. But in his own little world, in his own tiny existence, some of those things posed a direct threat to what little happiness he could glean from his immortal life.
He’d waited too long for this. He had been a solitary king for thousands of years. And the one woman who could bring that lonesome reign to an end was standing beside the river Thames, alone and innocent, unshielded, unprotected – vulnerable. In that moment, it would not have mattered whether he’d given his knight a sliver of his soul or the better portion of it. Nothing in the multiverse could have kept him from racing to her side.
- The Seelie King, by Heather Killough-Walden