This was madness. Absolute madness. Rafe didn’t know what had gotten into him, but he had no intention of stopping it. When he’d seen Bree walk through the archway of the Great Hall, her small hand tucked into Dagen’s arm, he’d been toast. The gown she’d chosen to wear was spectacular, but that hadn’t been what had caused his heart to ache. It was everything else about her. The way she’d thrown her shoulders back to face the terror of the Dark Fae head on. He’d seen the flicker of fear in her eyes when she’d seen exactly what kind of ball she was joining, but she hadn’t backed down.

She was strength and beauty, and he just couldn’t bring himself to say goodnight.

He would not get another chance to spend time with her like this. He knew it in his gut. Prince Taveon had been angry when Bree had shown up to the ball. He had to let it pass because Dagen had been the one to bring her, but Rafe knew the Prince would not let it happen again.

It would be training, training, and more training. And then it would be time for the battle.

Rafe breathed in through his nose. He didn’t want to think about what might happen after that.

He opened his arms wide, and Bree stepped in close to his body. She smelled so sweet, so fresh. Of lavender and something else. Something he thought sunshine might be. He’d never seen the sun himself, but he’d heard what it was like. Bright and yellow. Full of life.

That was Bree.

He wrapped his arms around her small waist and flapped his wings against the cool night air. They lifted from the balcony, and Bree let out a squeak of surprise, winding her arms tighter around Rafe’s neck. He tried to bite back the smile that threatened to spread across his face. He was enjoying her fright far too much. The more scared she became, the more she wanted to press her body closer to his.

But she had no reason to be afraid. Rafe would never let her fall, not in a million fae years. His affection for her had grown to the point where he could barely remember what it was like to not have her in his life.

He just wished things could be different.

He wished they had met under different circumstances.

He wished he could talk Taveon out of keeping her held against her will.

“You do not need to be afraid,” he murmured into her ear. She shivered in response and clung on tighter. He couldn’t help but smile. “I would never let go.”

“Yeah, well...” Bree’s voice was so soft that it almost got lost on the wind. “I think I’ll keep holding on myself just in case.”

And indeed, she pressed her body as tightly against his as she could, and Rafe’s mind began to go wild with thoughts he did his best to shake. Oh, how he wanted to kiss her. Oh, how he wanted to fly her straight back to her bed and do unspeakable things to her perfect body.

He had never felt these emotions, not in the entirety of his life.

But it was not Bree’s choice to be here, and she deserved more than that. There was only one place in this realm he could take her now. In the end, he knew that what happened next might pull her away from him completely, but he would sacrifice his own happiness if that meant she could have hers.

At least they would have this one night together. It was one Rafe would never forget for the rest of his life, no matter how many centuries passed by.