Page 29 of Tempting the Fae Lord
But since he’s shown no sign of reciprocation, I shove the longing deep inside where it belongs and try to settle for his company. His time. His conversations.
That will have to be enough.
Though I can’t help but notice he’s never had a partner here. No lovers come and go from his bedchambers. No letters exchanged with a mysterious long-distance paramour. So maybe, someday…
He interrupts my meandering. “I suppose you want to know what happened.”
“You suppose correctly.”
“And I suppose you won’t let me retire until I tell you.”
“Right again.”
“Come along, then. My study is more comfortable.”
I’m delighted he’s going to give up the story without a fight, but I try not to act that way as I scurry along behind him.
We sit in twin armchairs on either side of a small end table. An emerald-green glass lamp flickers between us, casting dancing lights on his freshly washed face.
It’s odd to see him in anything besides his usual all black attire, but he looks comfortable enough in my plain brown breeches and cream cotton shirt. If anything, the light fabric makes his ebony hair even more lustrous.
“I shall tell you the whole of it if you promise to hold your questions until the end.”
“Of course.”
What follows is terrifying.
Also exciting.
It’s excitingly terrifying.
A mysterious fae-souled sorcerer, a powerful bone caller, and a legion of corpses raised to stop Ezra. And he beat them back all by himself to escape with the new baby through the gate.
Wow. This is the stuff of bedtime stories, not real life.
But if Ezra says it happened, it happened.
“You defeated an entire army.” The unrestrained awe in my voice is only slightly embarrassing.
“Not defeated. Were you listening, Mooncalf?”
I ignore the little barb.
“I never laid eyes on the fae sorceress, and the death mage got away before I could kill him. Skinny thing. Young. Dark hair. Far too much power for his own good.”
“Yeah, but all those risen dead you fought.”
“The brainless undead fall easily. The problem comes in the wall of flesh they create between me and the true threat.”
“Why did they fight you to begin with?”
“Why does anyone grasp at power? Greed. Envy. Desire. The sorceress wants passage through the gate, which I will never allow, and so she threatens with her undead hoards.”
“What happens now?”
“I must go back. Speak with the guardians on the other side. Unravel the threads of whatever plot is afoot before danger falls on the fae-souled there.”
“Not alone!”
