Courting Fae Thieves and Crowns Artwork

Excerpt from Courting Fae Thieves and Crowns:

“Would you like to dance?”

My mouth opens to protest and insist that he dance with someone else. Someone with the potential to be his companion. Someone other than me. But he believes I am here for him, so I nod and take his hand and allow him to lead me to the center of the floor.

Another obstacle of the job.

He places a hand at my back and I rest my arm on his shoulder, then I take his other outstretched hand. Rion turns to the lute players and nods once, prompting the waltz to begin.

We fall silent and move around the ballroom. It’s been many decades since I’ve been to a revel or even danced, and this one is especially unique with its human influence. I find myself entering a dream-like state.

For a breath, I forget I dislike my dancing partner and the pomp of the creatures surrounding me. I let go of my life as a spy, a deceiver, and a thief. In this moment, I’m not swallowed by chaotic emotions. I’m swimming in the beauty around me. For the first time in days, calm assurance envelopes me, and a spark of joy flits in my chest.

Maybe the obstacles of this job aren’t so bad.

Stealing Fae Hearts and Secrets Artwork

Excerpt from Strealing Fae Hearts and Secrets:

“What did you want to tell me?”

I don’t push him away, so he moves his hand to wrap around my waist, pressing his palm and splayed fingers against the small of my back, just beneath the edge of my wings. They twitch, suddenly feeling hyper-aware of the closeness of his touch. Then, he releases my hand and wraps his other around me, too. The movement pulls my face closer to him as he lowers his.

“I’ve told you how I feel,” Rion says, ignoring my question and pressing his forehead against mine. He closes his eyes. “You know how I feel.”

“You did.” My heart hammers in my chest. “I do.”

“Tell me you still hate me like you always have,” he whispers. There’s a hint of agony around the edges. “Tell me you’ll never forgive me. Tell me… you don’t love me.”

“Rion I—” But my voice catches in my throat. I can’t say it. I can’t say I hate him, that I’ll never forgive him, or that I don’t love him because it’s a lie.

“Tell me you hate me.”

“I… can’t.”

His expression doesn’t change. “Tell me you’ll never forgive me.”

“I… can’t.”

“Tell me…” The prince inhales deeply, then exhales shakily. “You don’t love me.”

I close my eyes and release my own shaky breath. “I-I… can’t.”

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