My voice trembles a little as I answer him. “I can’t decide if you’re bragging about your sexual prowess, or if you’re some kind of serial killer.”

He freezes. “Am I scaring you?”

“You’re not making me feel comfortable,” I tell him honestly, wondering if that’s the wrong move.

If he’s here to kill me, shouldn’t I be trying to sound more confident?

“Fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so distracted lately I think I might have forgotten basic fae manners.”

He clicks on a flashlight that lights up his face, and my breath catches. This man is undoubtedly the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Even though most people look creepy with a flashlight held up to their faces like that, he doesn’t. He looks like some kind of bad-boy angel. His hair is light brown, left a little long on top, and his eyes are blue. But not the pale blue of most fae, more like a dark blue the same shade as the depths of the ocean, a color I’ve never seen before in my life in a person’s eyes. The lines of his face are pleasant too, and his dark brows arch over expressive eyes.

I have to remind myself to breathe. I’ve never had this kind of instant attraction to anyone before. Certainly not a random man in a graveyard. It’s as unsettling as it is strangely appealing. I’ve been so bored playing the good little fae. This feels like something dangerous. Like something I’ve been craving with my whole being.

“I’m Rayne, by the way. Rayne Bloodmore.”

“Fuck,” I whisper, then press my knuckles to my mouth in embarrassment. Light fae don’t swear. But then, hadn’t he? Hadn’t Rayne, of one of the most powerful fae houses, just sworn?

“H-Hi,” I stutter out.

“And who are you?” he asks, suddenly turning the flashlight onto me.

“Mary Ann Hart, but I go by Ann. I mean, my friends call me Ann. Not that I have a lot of friends, or that the ones I’m friendly with know me well enough to know I hate the name Mary Ann.” I close my mouth, realizing I’m babbling.

“Ann.” He says my name in a breathless way, then comes closer.

The light is drawn away from my face, and then he’s inches from me. To my surprise, he reaches out and touches my face, cautiously, like he’s afraid I might break. And up close, under the moonlight, he’s even more handsome. I feel like I’m caught in a whirlwind, and there’s only him and I inside of it.

“I’m trying to do something,” he says, almost as if he’s in awe. “I want to change the world.”

I just stare, not sure how to answer.

“I want to focus on it completely. I don’t want any distractions. But then, you…”

“Me?”Is he feeling this strange connection to?

“You’re my mate. Aren’t you?”

I shake my head in denial. I’m only twenty-three. It’s too soon to find my mate. Maybe not for everyone, but it is for me. And my family isn’t all-powerful, like his. We’re barely royals. And what’s more, I’m not a pure-blood fae. There’s no way I’m the mate to Rayne Bloodmore.

And then, he leans forward and kisses me.

Whatever doubts I had fall away, and the spark that’s between us grows until it feels like it might consume me. His lips go from soft and gentle, like they’re testing my reaction, to hard and possessive. It isn’t like a light fae. They’re always gentle. Always smiling like painted dolls. But, no, Rayne doesn’t kiss me the way I’ve been kissed a hundred times before. His lips awaken a need inside of me that changes something deep in my soul.

When his tongue slips inside of my mouth, I moan. My hands clutch the front of his shirt, drawing him closer. One of his hands digs deeply into my long hair, while the other pulls my hip to him until I can feel the hard evidence of his arousal.

I’m a light fae. We move slowly. We date. We get to know each other.

But mates are different. I’ve heard that a million times. Even so, this isn’t what I expected. This need to have him here and now. To let the entire world burn if it means keeping him and I trapped in this moment forever.

And then he pulls back.

A whimper escapes my lips, and I stand on my tiptoes, offering him more.

He’s breathing hard. “This isn’t the time for a mate.”

And the way he says mate seems to echo through me. “For me either,” I tell him, still on my tiptoes, still wanting more.

He leans down and begins to kiss my neck, speaking softly. “I have so much to do. I can’t offer you everything you deserve right now. Love. Unconditionally. My full attention. My everything. Not yet. Not when I’m so close.”