Prince Erilan is expected to do many things within Light Fae society. He is Captain of the Queen’s Guard, Queen Ivena’s advisor, and heir to the Light Fae throne. He’s always performed his duties -- royal and familial -- with unflinching loyalty. When he meets a Dark Fae scout, however, Erilan’s sense of duty wars with an unholy desire for the enigmatic Fae.
Lyren of House Kehru much prefers covertly spying from trees and shadows to jumping into the forays of the frontlines. He loves his job as a scout. Having far more magic than most of his Dark Fae brethren is a big plus. So when he’s ordered to do recon on the invisible borders of the Light Fae realm, he employs his magick to do just that. What he doesn’t count on is the insanely gorgeous Light Fae who nearly takes his head off with a sword.
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Glamour (Fae-ry Tales 3)
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Mychael Black
Something felt… off.
Lyren ducked behind a tree, hidden beneath his cloak and the shadows. This close to the Light Fae border, his glamour wouldn’t matter. Light Fae saw through such things with ease. He peered around the trunk, eyes narrowing. Nothing. He let out a quiet breath and turned toward the woods. If he could get far enough away --
Bright, razor-sharp steel rested at his throat. Lyren didn’t dare move a single muscle.
The sword’s owner emerged from Lyren’s right, cloaked but practically glowing. There was a damn good reason why they were called “Light Fae.” “Who are you?”
Lyren couldn’t see the Fae’s eyes, but that voice made every nerve in his body tingle. Fucking figured he’d go weak-kneed for the enemy. “Lyren,” he murmured, wary of the blade still pressed neatly against his neck. One swipe, and he’d bleed out on the forest floor.
“Of what House?”
Grimacing, Lyren debated whether or not to simply deny any affiliation. Technically, he could. No one in House Kehru knew his true lineage, not even the Chamber or the Leader. “The truth? Or what I tell the rest of the Dark Fae?”
For a moment, the swordsman didn’t speak. Then, much to Lyren’s surprise, the sword lowered. “Both.”
Grateful he could still nod, Lyren did so. “They think I’m part of House Kehru, and I let them believe it. In truth, I’m one of the last descendants of the true Dark Fae. My family were the founders of the entire race. I belong to no House.”
The hood fell, and Lyren thanked every god he knew of for the tree supporting him. Snow-white hair framed a masculine yet soft-featured face. Eyes the color of pale blue crystals met Lyren’s gaze and never wavered. Lips he wanted to kiss until he died just remained pressed together, taunting him. Gods. He knew Light Fae were beautiful, but this one…
“And why should I believe a word you say?”
The question snapped Lyren out of his lust-filled daze like ice-cold water dumped over his head. “You shouldn’t. Hell, I don’t believe anything Dark Fae tell me.”
The Light Fae blinked, then smirked. Lyren’s stomach flip-flopped. Gods, he had it bad, and he didn’t even know the swordsman’s name. The Light Fae sheathed his sword and drew out a length of shimmery rope. Smart man. Regular rope wouldn’t hold anyone with a modicum of magick.
“How long before you’re missed?”
Nodding, the Light Fae grabbed Lyren’s wrists and bound them across each other. Lyren did his best to ignore the way the Fae’s touch lingered on his skin, even after the Fae stepped back. Lyren inhaled softly as the Light Fae stood close, but, apparently, it wasn’t quiet enough.
“Something you wish to say?” the swordsman murmured.
Lyren swallowed and shook his head, praying to the gods that his cock wouldn’t get any harder than it already was. All he had to do was lean a little forward, and they’d kiss. But he didn’t dare. He was pretty damn sure the Fae would lead him into the Light Fae realm, which meant he’d be the wolf amongst countless bloodthirsty sheep.
The man chuckled and tugged the rope. “This way. Stay close.”