Pride goeth before the fall....but you've already fallen, haven't you?

It was the only way he knew to protect the court, the faery, and the only mortal who'd ever mattered to him.

And he was gone before she could think clearly enough to explain that her yes was a Yes, I'll marry you.

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.

Seth gave her that: a private space to believe in the illusion of normalcy.

They've been stealing mortals away for centuries, but they can't have you.

She stepped closer to one of the statues. It looked wide-eyed, almost afraid as she reached out her hand. One of the women reached out and snatched Aislinn's still uplifted hand. "No." The women spoke all at once, not to her or to Keenan, but softly-as if to themselves-in a sibilant whisper. "He's ours. Fair exchange. Not yours to interfere.