Chapter
One
How do
you tell the man you’re dating you’re a faery?
You
don’t.
And I
didn’t. One sound reason: he might freak out. Secondly, he might
think I’m a Fruit Loop shy of a full bowl. I’d worked so hard to
convince him I’m not a run-of-the-mill nutcase, but sooner or
later, he needed to know the truth. Especially with Prince
Valerian’s hunters tracking my trail.
My name
is Aine Ravenbane. By my noble birthright, I am the destined queen
of the Court of Midnight. And the man who sat across the dinner
table is Jaime Walker. A human. Mortal. Also a homicide detective
for Hammond PD.
“ I made five-cheese lasagna tonight.” I took the pan from the
oven to let it cool for a couple of minutes before cutting
it.
Jaime was
frisky. He was terminally cute when he looked like that, but he was
quite a looker all around. Six-foot-one with a fit physique,
naturally sun-kissed skin, brown hair and brown eyes. A
good-natured smile perpetually etched on his lips. He loved my home
cooked meals, since his diet mainly consisted of ramen and packaged
macaroni and cheese before he met me. I don’t know how he kept his
athletic figure eating junk food all the time. Human metabolism
isn’t like faeries.
“ You made it from scratch?” he asked.
“ From scratch,” I echoed proudly. “Semolina flour noodle. Real
Romano cheese and San Marzano tomatoes for the sauce. I got the
recipe from Mrs. Ricci next door.” I drizzled the homemade
vinaigrette on the bed of lettuce and plated them. He was ready
with his fork and knife when I served him the salad. I poured him
some water, then cut the lasagna from the pan. He regarded me with
an appreciative look when I put the lasagna plate in front of
him.
He
abandoned the salad. It seemed he was never a big fan of rabbit
food. “Looks delicious. Thank you.”
I
preened. I wished I could make Jaime more excited about me than
some fattening Italian grease.
He took a
bite and closed his eyes.
Okay, the
man really loved my cooking.
When he
opened them, those big gorgeous eyes of his gazed at me with
adoration. “You don’t have to do this every night. I’m perfectly
happy with a grilled cheese sandwich or to order out.”
“ I wanted to. Plus it gives me something to do during the day.”
I settled next to him and dug in to my plate, watching him
eat.
Actually,
Jaime wasn’t really my lover. Yet. I was working on it. I had been
living in his white picket fence house in the heart of Hammond, a
small town in Indiana, for the past two months. I did his laundry,
cooked him dinner, took care of the yard and planted some pansies
in the flowerbed. I was pretty much doing a wife’s duty, except the
bed part. Even though he was only twenty-nine years old, Jaime was
an old-fashioned kind of guy. I didn’t know much about the story of
his life before, but it seemed Jaime preferred sex after both
parties had put a ring on each other’s finger. We faerykin
preferred sex after a nice hearty meal. To us, sex is a necessity.
Like breathing or eating. Humans had different rules apparently.
And in my case, I was a pent-up, ticking sex bomb ready to
explode.
You see,
I’m a virgin.
I’m only
twenty-three years old, still considered a youngling to my people.
When our kin reach their coming of age we go to a mating festival
in Faeryville, find a bedmate or two and fuck each other’s brains
out until morning. I couldn’t do that on account I was the heir of
the Court of Midnight’s throne and had been betrothed to Valerian
de Airemm since I was five. Valerian is my first cousin. He has
more than two hundred consorts in his harem, and he’s as mean as
hell. He’s also very beautiful with a tall, toned, imposing
stature. But since he was a dick that just made him a bigger dick.
Valerian was everything you’d expect from a fae lord. Arrogant.
Cold. Ambitious.
My king
father, Lugh Ravenbane, was murdered by an assassin when I was in
my mother’s womb. Rumor had it the killer
One
How do
you tell the man you’re dating you’re a faery?
You
don’t.
And I
didn’t. One sound reason: he might freak out. Secondly, he might
think I’m a Fruit Loop shy of a full bowl. I’d worked so hard to
convince him I’m not a run-of-the-mill nutcase, but sooner or
later, he needed to know the truth. Especially with Prince
Valerian’s hunters tracking my trail.
My name
is Aine Ravenbane. By my noble birthright, I am the destined queen
of the Court of Midnight. And the man who sat across the dinner
table is Jaime Walker. A human. Mortal. Also a homicide detective
for Hammond PD.
“ I made five-cheese lasagna tonight.” I took the pan from the
oven to let it cool for a couple of minutes before cutting
it.
Jaime was
frisky. He was terminally cute when he looked like that, but he was
quite a looker all around. Six-foot-one with a fit physique,
naturally sun-kissed skin, brown hair and brown eyes. A
good-natured smile perpetually etched on his lips. He loved my home
cooked meals, since his diet mainly consisted of ramen and packaged
macaroni and cheese before he met me. I don’t know how he kept his
athletic figure eating junk food all the time. Human metabolism
isn’t like faeries.
“ You made it from scratch?” he asked.
“ From scratch,” I echoed proudly. “Semolina flour noodle. Real
Romano cheese and San Marzano tomatoes for the sauce. I got the
recipe from Mrs. Ricci next door.” I drizzled the homemade
vinaigrette on the bed of lettuce and plated them. He was ready
with his fork and knife when I served him the salad. I poured him
some water, then cut the lasagna from the pan. He regarded me with
an appreciative look when I put the lasagna plate in front of
him.
He
abandoned the salad. It seemed he was never a big fan of rabbit
food. “Looks delicious. Thank you.”
I
preened. I wished I could make Jaime more excited about me than
some fattening Italian grease.
He took a
bite and closed his eyes.
Okay, the
man really loved my cooking.
When he
opened them, those big gorgeous eyes of his gazed at me with
adoration. “You don’t have to do this every night. I’m perfectly
happy with a grilled cheese sandwich or to order out.”
“ I wanted to. Plus it gives me something to do during the day.”
I settled next to him and dug in to my plate, watching him
eat.
Actually,
Jaime wasn’t really my lover. Yet. I was working on it. I had been
living in his white picket fence house in the heart of Hammond, a
small town in Indiana, for the past two months. I did his laundry,
cooked him dinner, took care of the yard and planted some pansies
in the flowerbed. I was pretty much doing a wife’s duty, except the
bed part. Even though he was only twenty-nine years old, Jaime was
an old-fashioned kind of guy. I didn’t know much about the story of
his life before, but it seemed Jaime preferred sex after both
parties had put a ring on each other’s finger. We faerykin
preferred sex after a nice hearty meal. To us, sex is a necessity.
Like breathing or eating. Humans had different rules apparently.
And in my case, I was a pent-up, ticking sex bomb ready to
explode.
You see,
I’m a virgin.
I’m only
twenty-three years old, still considered a youngling to my people.
When our kin reach their coming of age we go to a mating festival
in Faeryville, find a bedmate or two and fuck each other’s brains
out until morning. I couldn’t do that on account I was the heir of
the Court of Midnight’s throne and had been betrothed to Valerian
de Airemm since I was five. Valerian is my first cousin. He has
more than two hundred consorts in his harem, and he’s as mean as
hell. He’s also very beautiful with a tall, toned, imposing
stature. But since he was a dick that just made him a bigger dick.
Valerian was everything you’d expect from a fae lord. Arrogant.
Cold. Ambitious.
My king
father, Lugh Ravenbane, was murdered by an assassin when I was in
my mother’s womb. Rumor had it the killer
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