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A sob catches in my chest.
This is just like the ending of that book, Unwilling Bride of the Seelie King, only it’s the man who has lost his life.
“Is this where I say I can’t continue without you?” My words come out choked. “That I wanted you from the moment I saw you on that footage I shot of you trashing my room?”
I pause, as though waiting for him to say something, but he remains still.
“Fuck, I even miss you as the hound.”
Clouds drift over the sun, casting us in gloom. A cool breeze sweeps over the surface of the lake, but my newly toughened skin doesn’t register the change in temperatures.
The next idea that tumbles through my head is ridiculous and only works in smutty fae romances. But I’ve run out of options.
It’s time to give the Boogie Man a true love’s kiss.
My wing bones twitch, although it’s hard to tell if that’s out of encouragement or embarrassment because these things only work in fiction.
“You probably can’t hear me, but I’m going to say it anyway,” I murmur, my fingers tracing his sharp cheekbone. “All my life, no one has ever seen me as special. I’ve never had anyone to call my own until you.”
My wings spread out, trying to cocoon the Boogie Man. I should be searching through forbidden texts, trying out spells, not confessing my feelings to someone whose soul has probably left this realm.
“Trapping you was beyond exciting, and every time you returned to stalk me, I felt special.”
I shift uncomfortably on the lily pad. “It wasn’t just because of the attention. You were charming when you wanted to be, beautiful, and mysterious. And you have this way with words.”
A bitter laugh bubbles from my chest. “Right now, I would give anything to hear you growl at me or threaten me with your claws.”
Tears gather in the corners of my eyes, turning my vision into a blur of black and white and green.
“I loved you as the hound. I knew you were meant to be mine, and when I banished you—”
My breath hitches.
That had been vicious, dangerous, insane.
“You came back from the other realm to save me from Norbert.” My voice breaks. “And even after the coven tried to sacrifice you and turn you into a dildo, even after facing down your wife’s corpse, you still saw me as my own person.”
I blink, loosening the tears. They flow down my cheeks and onto his unmoving lips.
“You forgave me,” I rasp. “You gave up your magic to keep me safe.”
The hand tracing his cheekbone slides down to his wet hair.
“I love you, Henry Curtmantle, Duke of Normandy, King Henry II of England. I loved you from the moment you appeared in my trap, I loved you when I thought you were my familiar, and the feelings I have for you now are beyond love.”
I place a kiss on his cold lips, only for my skin to tingle with the beginnings of tiny sparks.
Bloody hell.
Something’s happening.
He spasms once, twice, then coughs up a mouthful of water.
I draw back, my heart soaring, my wings folding backward to give him space.
He rolls to the side and pants. I rub gentle circles between his shoulder blades. As his breathing calms and his wings relax, I draw backward, my eyes wide.
Did I just perform necromancy?
