Images cluttered the pages, but one tattoo set her nerves on edge; inky black eyes surrounded by wings likes shadows coalescing. Mine. The thought, the need, the reaction was overpowering. Leslie looked up. "This one." she said. "I need this one. But the image is more than just tempting art, and it draws her into a world of shadows and desire- into the world of Faerie.

What are you going to do? What do you want to do?” she prompted. “I’m going to go try to help Niall. He’s not acting like himself, and I have a theory on what’s wrong,” he told her. “Then afterward I'm going to ask you to marry me.

Just be you-strong and honest. The rest falls into place if you do that. It always has. It always will. Remember that. No matter what happens over the . . . centuries ahead of you, remember to be honest with yourself. And if you fail, forgive yourself. You'll make mistakes. The whole world is new, and they have so many more years in the then you.

Sometimes being human sucks.

Can I join you at lunch?" She paused. "You have every other day." He laughed, a sound as musical as the chiming song of the lupine fey when they ran. "Yes. But you resented it every other day." "What makes you think I won't resent it today?" "Hope. It's what I live on.

Maybe the girl would get strong enough to withstand an ink exchange with one of the chosen faeries. If not, he could always give her to one of the weaker fey. It seemed a shame to waste a lovely broken toy.

The Summer King stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Can you offer me your fidelity? Your heart and your body and your companionship for eternity? Do you want my fidelity? Either love me or kiss me goodbye, my Summer Queen.