Chapter 1

Living in New Orleans meant that the coming of Autumn was synonymous with the coming of Halloween. It was also a time filled with the Jewish High Holidays, witchy holidays, and fae holidays. This year, however, was more stressful than usual because I had to plan a wedding—actually, two weddings. There were rules about entering the realm of the fae, and I had human guests, so I had to have a ceremony here and one in Elphame.

I hated ceremonies.

I hated being the center of attention.

So I was, in typical avoidance tactics, ignoring my wedding planning until I absolutely positively had to deal with it.

Plus, I was restless since my magic had settled and my privacy was upended by tourists with phone cameras. I'd spent my entire life trying to hide who—and what—I was. Suddenly being unable to behead a monster without a reel of my actions on social media was creating a bubble of irritation that was starting to feel like it was festering.

Worse yet, I had no one to blame for it, no enemy to slay, no mystery to solve. It was simply a side effect of public interest in the blue-haired witch marrying the crown prince of Elphame.

I'd finished working out. Again. Now I'd tackle the wedding plans, at least some of them.

Since my apartment was a ground floor unit with questionable air conditioning and ventilation, I was wearing one of Eli's shirts and nothing else. Not exactly workout clothes or going out clothes or--

"Bonbon?" Eli walked into the bedroom.

I was surrounded by wedding catalogues and hand-drawn illustrations from Elphame. Dresses. So many twice-cursed dresses. I had rejected everything from what looked like mermaid tails to cartoon princess gowns I wasn't sure I could walk in without tripping.

"Why?" I gestured, glaring at the images. "I like trousers. I mean, I can deal with leggings and a tunic but—"

"We could go naked . . ."

That caught my attention. I looked up. He was still standing in the doorway of the bedroom, out of reach.

"Tell me more?"

"Tell you?" Eli started to remove his shirt, offered me what I used to think of as an innocent smile. I knew better now. There was nothing innocent about the formerly exiled faery prince currently stripping in our doorway. Wiley. Charming. Clever. Gorgeous.

"Show me more," I modified, taking a moment to admire him. The bare expanse of skin he was now exposing was dusky and taut over muscles, a reminder that he was an agile fighter and a tireless lover.

With a flick of my hand, all the catalogues and drawing went flying off the bed. A bit of plaster drifted to the ground as a pen stabbed the wall. My magic was a still a bit erratic since our bonding.

"My lovely witch," he murmured before I could apologize. "My warrior wife."

I watched as his shirt hit the ground. "More. . ."

"More explanation?" he teased. "Well, being naked would solve the dress decision for you, too, I suppose."

I looked back up to catch his gaze. His cut glass cheeks and nose were softened by a mouth that made me think of a courtesan's lips. "I can't imagine your uncle would approve of—"

"Bonbon?" Eli's hand passed over his chest and lingered at the top of his trousers.

My brain went completely silent. I met his gaze again with effort. Looking away from bare skin and taut abs required a lot of focus.

"I'd very much like to ravish you now, Geneviève," he announced, stepping closer and unfastening that first button. "Perhaps we could not discuss my family now?"

"Mmmmhmmm."

"Shall I take that as a yes?" Slowly, button by button, Eli unfastened his trousers. "To the not talking or the naked? Or the ravishing?"

In the next heartbeat, I'd crossed the room without thought. "Yes, Eli. Whatever you say. Whatever you want . . . yes."

"All I want is you, Geneviève."

I opened my mouth to attempt to reply, but Eli lowered his mouth to mine and saved me from the perpetual embarrassment over how much his words got to me. I'd rather kiss him than fumble at word. With my kisses, I could attempt to tell him just how much I loved him. With my touches, I could try to be eloquent.

I'd never have the constant pretty fae words to share, not like he did, so I set about telling him how I felt with my kisses and caresses.

A few hours later,I wasn't any more capable of speech, especially articulate and flowery words, but Eli understood me all the same. He whispered, "I love you too, Geneviève."

I sighed out loud this time. "No one else has ever . . . known me so easily."

He chuckled. "Easily? Oh, come now, divinity! I have dedicated literal years to the Study of Geneviève. Your silences, your expressions, your temper . . ." Eli pulled me closer into his embrace. "I surely have earned degrees in the tilt of your head or the curve of your lips, and I am not done. You are my enigma, my lifetime pursuit."

I flinched guiltily. "I didn't set out to be perplexing to you."

"You didn't set out with a single plan about me," Eli corrected. "But now, you are mine. Unto eternity. My prey caught in a snare . . ."

"Not prey," I muttered.

"And yet, you are captured, are you not?" Eli's words were light—but I heard the question he was truly asking. While I hadn't studied him for quite as long, I had begun to learn to listen to the silences in his statements and the questions he lobbed gently my way.

"I'm happily ensnared," I agreed. Despite being anti-relationship, I'd been stealthily courted and bonded to the prince, but as he had reminded me regularly, he'd never said he was merely a bar owner. He'd also never said he had chosen an exile from his people to stay in New Orleans as my friend while plotting to wear down my resistance to the romance he'd wanted from me.

The fae might not lie, but they weren't always forthright.

Now Eli and I were fae-bonded. It was more permanent, none of this "until death" business. Our lives were connected on a heartbeat-by-heartbeat level. If I died, he died. If he died, I died.

Don't even get me started on how much panic that responsibility caused me. It was right though. We were right. And as sappy as it felt, I admitted, "Being bonded to you is the most natural thing I've ever done. I'd rather be with you in a grave than here without you. My pulse is yours, and I wouldn't want it any other way."

"And she says she has no pretty words for me," he murmured, lifting one of my hands to his lips and kissing my wrist at the pulse point.

I cleared my throat, determined to have this conversation. "So you know that avoiding wedding planning isn't cold feet, right?"

"I do." Eli watched me in a way that made me feel like I was a treasure he'd defend, a cause he'd uphold, and a gift he'd cherish.

"I just hate being the center of attention in a crowd," I tried to explain. "And in my defense, I had planned to go over some details with you tonight. Honestly. But then you came home and . . ."

"Bonbon, you were already half-naked when I came home," he pointed out. "It seemed foolish not to join you."

"It's hot, and the apartment was humid."

"Getting naked was simply practical then," he agreed with a laugh.

"Exactly. That's me. Practical. And maybe I was hoping you'd be home soon. I feel like any minutes without you are too long lately." I looked up at him, and he answered with another kiss.

"Bonbon? I adore your appetite," he reassured me when he pulled away.

Lately, I was fairly sure the only reason we hadn't been arrested for public indecency was that people were too stunned to react when we'd been caught in public. Well, that and the fact that I was witch enough to baffle them with a quick spell long enough to get away, typically with our clothes in hand, although I'd lost at least two pairs of boots this past month.

Tonight, we were inside. See? I could be practical. Meeting at my apartment tended to mean we were less likely to get caught naked in public, and the tourists were flooding the city as they did every year in October. Nowhere celebrated as often or as vigorously as New Orleanians did.

"What's your plan for the rest of the night?" Eli stretched as if he were some great cat.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the fae man who'd plagued my dreams for years. He stared at me as I watched him. Like every faery, he was not shy. He definitely had no reason to be. His lips curved into a smile that said he was well aware of how he looked sprawled out in our sea-blue sheets. His hair—currently coming unbound--could pass for the dark strands of plenty of middle eastern men, but it fell longer than most human men wore theirs.

"Wedding stuff . . .?" I sighed as I caught his gaze. I could see stars, eternity, a universe hidden in the dark braid that twisted across the pillow. Mine. All mine. I still had moments of panic that someone or something would tear us apart. I'd never really dared to believe that I could be this happy, that I'd find a person who accepted me as I was—fangs and all.

"You're far away from me, Geneviève."

I slid closer, so I was half draped over him. "Better?"

"Yes, but I meant inside your thoughts, love." He kissed the inside of my wrist. "Trouble with the ‘wedding stuff'? I could help."

"No, I was thinking about you."

"Mmmm, tell me more." Eli's eyes glittered in a different sort of interest, a seemingly impossible trait, but I realized it was simply another way to communicate for the fae. My own vision had shifted when we bonded. There were layers to sights, sounds, tastes, and scents that I hadn't know existed, even with my heritage. And touch . . . Eli's skin against mine was a pleasure that I would've called impossible before our bonding.

"Marriage. How it changes everything . . ." I trailed my hand over his stomach. "I'm sorry I wasted all that time running."

"Eh. I like a chase." He pulled me on top of him for a kiss that left me straddling him. Again. He stared up at me and added, "And I have won the prize I desperately wanted. . ."

When I straightened and sat upright, I was breathless at the love in his expression. It wasn't an overstatement to say that I was certain that I was the luckiest woman—of any species, dead or living—in either world. Love is always a gift, and compatibility is precious.

"Faery struck," I whispered as his hands gripped my hips.

"Likewise."

"You can't be! I'm—"

"Fae-bound? As am I, Geneviève. So, whatever could this be? Am I bewitched? Bespelled? Ensorcelled? Addicted?" His teasing laughter made me start to giggle.

A part of me was mortified that I was even capable of giggling. I was a witch, a necromancer, and the last sight before the death of many a monster. A half-witch half-draugr with spells and weapons ought not giggle!

But the rest of me reveled in feeling safe enough to laugh. Eli was my haven, and I'd do anything in my power to keep this feeling, this man, this love.

"I love you," I murmured, holding his gaze.

"Likewise."

"Show me, bonbon." I grinned as his hands tightened on my hips, leaving marks that I'd remember for the next few days.

Both my words and my giggles faded into moans and demands as my beloved did just that.