CHAPTER ONE
When he had first been given the assignment, Asher had loathed the idea of doing two at once in the same Quartaine. Not because he feared being caught by the authorities but rather because he had been looking forward to spending a little free time in the whore houses and gambling dens before completing his assignment. Now, having been given the additional file, he would have to limit his time.
He”d been eager to have a few days to himself, and now with the insistence of Violet, those days were gone. He had a deadline, and as much as he loved restraints in all forms, being that they tested him, this was one he could have done without.
He had arrived the night before and had left his things in his rooms, in their hidden vault, of course. Using the information provided, he had tracked his target quite easily to one of the local gambling dens that lay along the seafront.
The male had been unceremoniously tossed out not long after midnight.
Asher had tailed him from the rooftops above. Stopping only to piss up against a wall, the male made his way back to his lodgings on Cheapside.
Taking a position parallel to the male”s top-floor room, Asher sat and waited the male out. It didn’t take long; the male stumbled through his room for a moment before falling onto the bed and passing out within moments.
Asher’s plan was simple.
He had checked for warding and found none, so he would slip in, fulfill his assignment and slip out before dawn.
He had run various scenarios through his head before picking the most time effective, one that would still allow him a day to himself before beginning his second job. Sure, it wasn’t the few days he had originally planned, but it was better than nothing.
Allowing a little extra time to ensure the male was sound asleep, he evanesced the short distance to the ledge outside the male’s window. It was cracked open to allow what little breeze there was to filter through.
Many people falsely believed it was safe to leave their window open this high up. But then, most people would usually be low lives like the male inside. A male who did have something to fear and yet was too arrogant and oblivious to the danger.
Wasting no more time, Asher was inside the room and standing over the male in a matter of seconds. The male was either too arrogant to think he would need warding, or he had lost what money he had and was unable to purchase the service of a mage. Watching him, studying him. Either way, it allowed the assassin to evanesce right into the room.
Asher settled in a chair at the side of the bed and watched the sleeping male for a few moments. The assignment had been clear, the instructions on how this male was to suffer before his death plainly worded in black and white. In Asher’s mind, for the crime the male had committed, the instructions were too lenient.
Although angelic in appearance while he slept, the male was anything but that. He had courted the daughter of a wealthy merchant from the Spring Quartaine. For weeks he had worked from stolen glimpses at balls to calling on her and her family. He had wormed his way into her father’s good graces and earned an unchaperoned walk in the gardens. It was here he had first shown his true self to her.
He had overstepped, taking her offer of holding her hand much further. He pinned her to the trunk of a tree and forced a kiss on her. She had panicked, ordered him to leave, and he had laughed at her and told her no one would believe her. These meetings would continue under threat of tarnishing her name until she snapped.
She had been in her room, readying to settle for an afternoon nap, when one of the servants knocked on her door. She had a visitor. Upon entering the receiving chamber, she found her father and the depraved male shaking hands, both with wide grins. He had requested her hand in marriage, and her father had accepted. The young female finally fell apart.
She had accused the male, telling her father all the things he had done and said. He, of course, denied it. Instead, suggesting perhaps she had remembered wrong and made other excuses, such as he had been teasing her, testing her for he “...had no want of an immoral wife.” Her father believed him and told his daughter to speak carefully of her future intended.
A low growl emanated from Asher as he remembered how this thing in the bed had earned the treatment he was about to get. The sound drew a soft whimper from the sleeping male as if sensing his impending doom.
Asher carefully set his satchel on the floor at his feet and retrieved a vial and a cloth from it. Working quickly, Asher put a few drops of its contents onto the material before corking it once more and putting it back in his bag. The contents were potent, and although he had been forced to endure it in the Guild, he didn’t want to take any chances.
Part of his training as he grew up in the Guild was poisons. Ingestion, inhalation, or topical. Which would kill, which would maim, and which could be used, as was his intention now, to paralyze.
Having been exposed to them in training to help build a tolerance, this was Asher’s least favorite. The very idea of loss of function was in itself terrifying. He shuddered at the thought as he moved to the side of the bed and firmly clamped it down over the prone male’s mouth and nose.
Surprised eyes sprung open, fear shining from them, obvious even in the darkened room. He attempted to fight, to push the hand away from his face, but the toxin was already beginning to work. A brief flurry of his hands lost their fight and flopped lifelessly to his side. Only then did Asher lift the cloth and dump it in the wash bowl at the foot of the bed.
“Right now, I bet you are wondering who I am and why I am in your room, hmmm?” he laughed softly. It was always the same questions.
He settled once more beside the male. Titling his head, a soft wicked smile on his perfect lips. Asher reached out to brush a lock of disheveled hair from the male”s face. Even in this state, there really was no excuse for tardiness or looking unkempt.
“Well, Tannis...May I call you Tannis?”
One of the few things the male could move, his nostrils, flared like a panicked foal. His eyes, as moments before, were wide with fear, the sleep now well and truly gone from them. But he didn’t need to hear the male speak to witness his fear. The hues of deep purple with thick, inky threads of black hugged the male’s frame closely.
His aura screamed fear, even if his voice could not.
“I will take your silence for agreement. Thank you, Tannis.”
Tilting his head to the other side, Asher began to pop the buttons of the male”s shirt. Too drunk when he had arrived home, he had passed out fully clothed.
Asher was well versed in the removal of clothes from males or females; he cared not which. The form of both he found equally pleasing.
“I think we both know tonight is your last. But then, Tannis, this is the price you pay when you are a complete bastard to innocents. You were seen you know...” Asher’s smile dropped as he pulled the sides of the shirt apart to expose a pale, hairless chest.
Tannis’s throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly.
“Now, don’t get me wrong. I know I have blood on my hands. They are practically soaked in it, but you and I are not the same. You dear fellow, do it for fun.”
Asher paused. Brows pulled as if deep in thought before a small smirk pulled his lips, lifting his brows to ease the crease of his forehead.
“Ok, yes, you’ve got me there. I will find pleasure in taking your life. But it really isn’t the same thing, Tannis, so stop trying to make it so. Tsk tsk.”
The assassin ran a cool finger from the hollow of Tannis’s throat down to his navel and watched, confused, as the male’s aura flickered. The black swallowed briefly by the vibrant red. The sick fuck was getting aroused.
“You get pleasure from causing pain, having control, and taking what you want from people. Whereas I...” The assassin reached to his boot, pulling a blade from a sheath hidden in it.
His favorite blade.
He had named her Verity when Eli had gifted her to him. She was his anchor, his truth. With her in his hand, Asher had learned so much, gained knowledge, and, he hoped, brought light to the lies told, earning her regular participation in his assignments.
“I, Tannis, get pleasure taking you off the ever-turning wheel of life. Will I enjoy the act of bringing you pain? Not particularly, but it is a burden I shall carry willingly, knowing you will never hurt another female.”
Verity was a beautiful blade.
Her edges were forever sharp, never dulled from use, thanks to an enchantment Eli had one of the mages put on her. The standard length, eight inches, was held in a unique crossguard. Five protrusions pointed to the blade”s tip with a strange symbol of three intertwined loops on its sides. The handle, made from old oak, was always warm and welcoming, fitting perfectly in his palm. And crowning the dagger”s beauty was a rare and precious gem at the base of her hilt.
Verity was stunning, and she was perfect.
The sound of heavy breathing drew Asher’s attention from Verity. Tannis was experiencing his fight or flight. Neither did him any good as nearly every muscle in his body was paralyzed.
“You can try and fight it, my guy, but you will only succeed in it quickening the effect of the poisons you inhaled.” Asher raised his hand and slammed Verity’s blade into the headboard just by Tannis’s ear.
The male’s eyes flared wide, his chest began to rise and fall faster and faster as his body decided on a course of action...panic.
“Calm...sssh!”
His voice was soft, luring as if he was trying to coax a wounded animal to him. Asher pulled his satchel open and withdrew five strips of white cloth. He used four of them to secure the male’s arms above his head and his ankles to the footboard. By the time the assassin was finished, the male was displayed like an X, the fae rune symbolizing a gift. And a gift was what Asher was giving the gentle fae the male had broken.
Head tilted, Asher, stood at the foot of the bed looking down over the prone male. His brows pulled, lost in thought, “Now, what was I saying?”
He knew he would need to make the next move quickly. The herbs he had used to make the oil were great at what they did, but they had their limits, and time was one of them.
“Oh yes, now I remember...honestly, Tannis, it really is quite rude of you to distract me like that.”
Asher retrieved Verity; her wooden grip sat comfortably in his palm, her blade begging to be put to use. Or at least, that is how Asher imagined her as he leaned over the male.
“Let’s begin, shall we? First things first, though.” Asher was fast, his movement a blur. One moment he was poised over the male; the next, Tannis’s head was tipped back, and Asher had inserted a needle-thin object into his neck just above where his throat bobbed.
The male attempted to scream, but the job was done.
“Now, the fun can really begin. We couldn’t have you making any sounds or crying out for help. So, that little pinch you just felt was this little beauty puncturing then slicing your vocal cords.”
Asher was pleased with how the assignment was going. If he kept to his schedule, he could be out before dawn and partaking in a little fun in Summer before his next assignment.
Wiping the long needle on one of the cloths restraining Tannis’s wrists, he set the unique blade on the table at the side of the bed. “So, no matter what I do to you, and no matter how much you try to scream...and you will try, I will make sure of it, but not a whimper will be heard beyond this room. But just to be sure, I will add a little something.”
His lids falling closed, Asher whispered a few words, the sound of each slurring into the other as he softly chanted. The air in the room grew heavy as pressure built in his ears. He had used a sound spell taught to him by Shanell, one of the Guild’s mages, in exchange for retrieving her locket from an ex.
Never wanting to take a risk where an assignment was concerned, Asher sealed the room so the walls would absorb the coming screams of Tannis. He didn’t want to be disturbed once beginning.
Asher stood over the bed, looking down at the body of the male. He had worked diligently to carry out the request of his employer. Make the death slow and painful, then leave him to take his last breath alone and afraid.
He had used Verity to place small, thin slices between his fingers and toes. Such cuts, although shallow and bloodless, caused great pain. Each slice was delivered upon reading a line from the letter the brave female had written. She knew the plans for the piece of shit who had hurt her, and she wanted him to know it.
When he had placed the piece of paper back in the bag, he pulled from it a long, thin, needle-like tool. Having tired of playing with his prey and having taken note of the setting of the moon, Asher ended his job by piercing the male’s lungs. Both of them, with the new tool. As the male gasped like a fish out of water, trying to down as much air as he could, Asher had ensured that with each greedy breath he took on board, less air, and more blood.
Bleeding into his lungs, the male would drown, and to complete his job, Asher needed to leave. He left the male with a pat to the cheek and a quick-witted jab, then climbed out the window.
He never left; he had to be sure no one entered the room and that the assignment had been completed. So just off to the side of the window, Asher leaned back and cast his eyes to the sky, admiring the beauty of the night.
Allowing a little extra time above what was needed, just to be sure, Asher climbed back in through the window and smiled as he noted the stillness of the male”s chest. It did not rise and fall; no breath was taken. He was dead.
One last check around the room assured him he had left nothing behind. After pulling the sheet up around the male, removing the restraints that held him, and pulling the family ring from his finger, Asher exited through the window for the last time.
Job completed; he placed his token of proof in the hidden pocket of his tunic. Work done, Asher was ready to play and never one to ignore the opportunity of a dramatic exit; he leaped from the roof and laughed gleefully as he fell.
A split second before hitting the ground with a splat, he evanesced.
Preening before the mirror, he couldn’t help but admire his own reflection. Standing proudly, a dashing black-haired, green-eyed male, Asher couldn’t help thinking about the one he was to engage with shortly. Were they another fae of exquisite taste, they too would find his seven-foot frame of strapping sexuality to be extremely attractive and tempting.
Leaning forward, he flashed a toothy grin and, while doing so, checked his teeth to ensure he had cleaned the remnants of dinner from them. It just wouldn’t do to go picking up a hot fae with spinach stuck in his teeth.
He shuddered at the thought.
With one last glance at his reflection, he pulled the hood of his cape up and turned quietly, tugging the door shut behind him before setting off on his way to the gambling den.
He had spent the past week in the room of the brothel facing the building. Asher’s motto was always, ‘If you have a job that needs to be done, always do it with a twist of fun.’ No better way to pass the time than between the legs of a buxom female or braced behind a firm-assed male.
He had noted just how many guards were stationed at the main doors, how often they changed, and at what times. He was also able to see all the other security the owner had in place, namely the wards on the second and third floors.
Not that they would be a problem.
The den attracted mixed patronage, merchants, locals, and gentry.
It wouldn’t be entirely unheard of for a Lord’s son or daughter to be seduced into the seedier side of most Quartaines, and it appeared there was no better place in Cliffell than the establishment he was on his way to.
His assignment was clear.
Gain access to the den, seduce the owner, retrieve the lost wagers, and return them to the Guild. He had been confused at first, having been given such an easy task, but took it without question because, within the Guild, questions brought punishment. Members of the Guild were to do as they were told without question, and you most certainly were never allowed to turn down an assignment.
The inner circle of the Guild would receive requests from various Quartaines. The job required would be gauged and then assigned to the most suitable member.
For this particular job, the client had requested the wagers belonging to his son and any evidence of him frequenting the gambling hall be removed and destroyed. He was not to use his particular skill set to kill the owner. This was fine by Asher. It was something he did, but not something he enjoyed.
Asher had been tasked with bringing the evidence back to the Guild so they could see if there was anything among it that they could use against their client should they need a favor in the future. But so far, where the owner of the den was concerned, there was to be no trace of the family”s weakness left behind when the job was done.
Upon receiving the assignment, Asher had taken time to research the family, especially the reckless little Lordling who had caused them to reach out to the Guild. It seemed the gambling apple and desire for young females did not fall very far from the aristocratic tree.
After learning of the assaults, imprisonment, and abuse by the high-born family, it seemed to Asher that it would have been more beneficial to kill the Lord and his son. One less High Protector ass-kisser and his heir. That could only ever be a good thing. But unfortunately, that was not his assignment. He would not only be reprimanded for it, but he wouldn’t be credited within the Guild if the task wasn’t carried out as directed.
As Asher made his way along the cobbled street. He pulled the hood further over his head to cast his face into shadow. The action drew a soft sigh from his perfect lips. He couldn’t curb the thought of how much of a sin it was to hide such a glorious mane hair and handsome face, but then tonight was not about being noticed.
The complete opposite was true.
Even though he was currently in the Summer Quartaine and the sun had been glorious all day, he found the night always brought a chill. It wasn’t just this town either. It seemed the surprising change was befitting the whole of the Quartaine. Thankfully this meant the cloak he wore blended in with others around him, and he was able to pass as one of the locals in his Summer blue cloak, pants, and shirt.
Summer attire varied depending on gender within this Quartaine. While the sun was high, the males tended to wear very little and females even less. Not that Asher was one to complain about such things. Light fabrics, sheer or even none at all, were the attire of Summer. Only the children were modestly covered. Modest by Summer terms, at least.
The street leading to the gambling den owned by Darius DeVere was just up ahead. No one would guess an assassin walked among them as he made his way there. Passing males and the occasional female on the street, Asher gave a playful nod and an occasional teasing wink as he approached, looking like any other merchant visiting this part of town in search of a good time.
Cliffell was a bustling little seaside town on the north coast of the Summer Quartaine. It was a party town and usually where all the playthings of the rich were bought and sold.
Including people.
Slavery was lawful in Summer but not in the other three Quartaines; they abolished it after the War of Verboggin.
Just as he crossed the street and stepped up to the entrance of the den, the doors burst open, and out hustled three large males. Two of them gripping the third by the ass of his pants and his shoulders. He was a struggling mess of a male who looked battered and bruised from the tussle. Dumping him unceremoniously on the sidewalk, the bulkier of the two guards laughed.
“Last warning. Come back again, and you won’t be treated so nicely. Thieves get their hands cut off; you’re lucky Darius is in a good mood. Now fuck off!”
The guy lay moaning on the ground, and being the mindful fae that he was, Asher did what any good male minding their own business would do...he stepped over him. Dipping his head in greeting to the guards, he dropped the hood of his cloak and entered the building.
Stepping inside, the smell of mead, wine, and tobacco hit him. The place smelled as if it hadn’t been aired since its first day of business. Of course, he already knew the layout of the building. It was always good practice in his line of work to know the lay of the floor plans in case he needed to escape out the back door rather than the front.
Making his way down the long corridor, he drank in his surroundings. The wooden floor was clean, the walls were lined in a deep purple velvet, and the high ceiling was a shade to match the walls. Hanging above roughly every ten feet or so were pewter chandeliers decorated in crystals and dripping wax candles.
Making his way along the hallway, he passed various scenes through the open archways. One such entrance led into a bar area. A bard sat in the corner strumming his instrument, a soft luring little ode to his lost love filled the space. There were a few patrons by the bar and a few others in the alcove seating areas that lined the opposite wall.
A little further down the hall was a room bathed in an alluring red glow. Even without seeing the mass of grinding bodies on the large round bed in the center of the room, the smell of sex would have given away the purpose of this particular room. Along each wall were little alcoves draped in sheer fabric should any of the patrons feel shy or wish to hide who they were with.
It appeared Asher hadn’t been given the full extent of what this establishment was. It was apparent that Darius DeVere’s place of business was a place where you could lose more than just your coin and perhaps walk out with something more than you bargained for.
There was talk that fae could not contract sexually transmitted diseases, unlike the humans in the northern continents, but that was false.
Moving further along the corridor, Asher reflected on what he had been told about this place. Figuring the rooms he had been told of on the upper floors were for those seeking carnal pleasures and Lorn, a fae name used when one didn”t want to call on a specific god of one of the Quartaines, knew what else. Not storage like he had been informed.
He was approaching the end of the corridor where another archway opened into the biggest of the rooms he had seen so far. Stepping through, Asher made a mental note that on his next visit to Summer, he would stop in with the informant who had given him information on DeVere’s place of business. The fae needed a little reminder as to why it was a bad idea to sell false information or half-truths.
This room was bathed in candlelight, an oddity with the lanterns that were so often used by those of all the Quartaines. There were no windows to let in natural light making it difficult to tell the time of day. A thing Asher noticed most gambling halls seemed to do. It helped disorientate those playing and distract them from the time so they would feel no need to rush off and therefore stay and lose more coins.
The only other way in or out was a doorway behind the bar on the other side of the room. The walls, a dark navy, almost black, seemed to swallow some of the light in the room, leaving a sullen, muted atmosphere. Dotted throughout were small round tables that could seat up to five people. Four players and the house dealer.
Only two tables were currently in play, but then it was only early evening, and there was still time for those with a full pocket to come and have it drained.
Moving to the heavy oak bar sitting against the back wall, Asher pulled out a rickety stool and perched on the edge as he waited for the barkeep to notice.
“What’s your poison?”
“A glass of your finest wine would be a great start.” Asher was too busy taking in his surroundings, noting where the guards were inconspicuously stationed around the room and how many there were, to pay much attention to the owner of the gruff voice.
“Ohhhh, our finest, huh?” His tone was mocking. “We only have one type, so that will be what you will be getting, and you will be liking it.” The heavy-set, bearded, green-haired male with deep-set green eyes and pale skin suddenly leaped and disappeared behind the bar.
The sound of wood scraping on the stone floor drew Asher’s attention, and curiosity got the better of him as he found himself leaning over the narrow wooden ledge to see the bar male was, in fact, a male of small stature.
Unheard of in any of the Quartaines.
Given his coloring, height, and accent, the male had to be from the Tuvaran continent, and the only reason they would be here in the Quartaines was on slave ships. They weren’t much to look at by fae standards, but they were like worker bees.
Tuvaran males were generally used to working in the mines. What they may have lacked in height, they made up for in sheer strength and brute force. Some were also used in the Pits of Astair, yet another form of entertainment in the Summer Quartaine. A fighting arena used as the main form of entertainment in this particular Quartaine.
Many enslaved found their way there when they had outlived their usefulness with the homes or places of work where they had been purchased to serve. They would be used in the opening of the games to rile up the crowds. Originally pitted against the Nargoul, large reptilian creatures bred in the Summer lands originally as exotic pets, but after mauling a few of their handlers, they were moved to the pits. On the run-up to game days, they were usually starved, so regardless if the Tuvaran’s were armed to the teeth, it only prolonged their death. Because that was inevitable.
The Summer Quartaine looked warm and welcoming to all who brushed the surface, but just below that semblance of proprietary, the real heart of these lands beat.
No one understood why each Quartaine birthed people with particular looks. It was just accepted, and you could sometimes tell which Quartaine a person came from on their looks alone. Mixing the blood of each Quart was frowned upon but not nearly as uncommon as it once was.
Summer people were beautiful, tall, graceful, and blessed with golden, lush blonde hair that haloed healthy honey-toned skin. But it was their eyes many found the most captivating. Summer-born residents had the most captivating mix of blue-green, a rival to that of the ocean skirting their land. They were natural warriors and sailors. Many a deadly mix of beautiful and unforgiving.
Spring was another Quart with warmer skin tones. Dark hair was common and usually in beautiful shades of brown. Their eyes, like those of Summer, were their crowning feature. Brown eyes ringed with sage green, the earthy tones bleeding together.
Autumn contained lighter skin tones, freckles tended to decorate their porcelain skin, and their hair was often red or burgundy. Even if an individual had brown hair, there tended to be a red undertone in the strands. Their eyes were beautiful shades of greens and blues.
Lastly, the Winter Quartaine. Its people had mainly shades of darker hair. Browns to ebonies, the shades weren’t as consistent. Their skin, however, was the palest of all the Quarts. The sun’s rays were generally watered down by the snow-ladened clouds, and the freezing temperatures required its subjects to hide in layers of clothing.
Asher had never given it much thought, but looking back at his training, he guessed it was the reason they were taught to glamor at the Guild. Using the slightest amount of his magical ability, he could blend in with any court. A much used and appreciated tool for an assassin such as himself.
The sound of a cork popping free from a bottle drew his wandering mind back once more. Standing before him, the Tuvaran male poured a glass of ruby-red liquid and pushed it along the counter to his waiting palm.
“Paying now or starting a tab?”
This barkeep was a man of few words. Blunt and to the point.
A small smile tugged Asher’s lips as he picked up the glass. “A tab, I’m good for it. I just offloaded a pile of silk, so I am more than able to meet it at the end of the evening.”
The abrasive male grunted, and after taking Asher’s name, Levi Doleman, an alias, of course. He pinned the tab to the bar above the drawer he stored the coin in.
Over the course of the evening, as he watched the comings and goings of those who sat at the tables, Asher had downed two more glasses. He watched the house dealers, those who played on behalf of the owner against patrons and noted their tells. He watched one table, happy that he could play without bringing attention to himself. When the table that was surrounded by three well-dressed males called out, looking for a fourth player, Asher stepped up and offered to join them.
The male opposite him looked a picture of decorum, yet after observing for so long, Asher was confident the male was counting the cards. Smart enough to play it safe and lose the odd hand, he hadn’t drawn the attention of either the guards in the room or the dealer at the table.
The fellow to Asher’s right had cards up his sleeve, and he was pretty sure the Counter had caught on to that using his own system of scamming the game.
The only two who appeared to be playing fairly were Asher and the gentle fae on his left, who, like Asher, was losing coin hand over fist to the other two as well as the dealer.
After taking time to learn as much as he could and being seen to have played the last of his coin, Asher laid his cards face down on the table.
“Gentlemen, as fun as this has been, I fear you have emptied my pockets. So, as much as I would love to stay and allow you to take more, I fear that short of selling my soul, I will have to bow out.”
The two cheating males chuckled.
Asher made to push up from the seat when a large, yet gentle hand rested upon his shoulder. “Far be it for us to stop your fun when it is only beginning. I am sure with just a little wager from the owner of this fine establishment, you would be able to recoup your losses. What do you say?”
Asher tilted his head to follow the sound of the alluring voice.
At his side stood one of the most handsome males he had ever seen. Hair the darkest shade of midnight blue, skin a deliciously glowing warm honey, and the eyes that held Asher’s own were the palest gray with little flecks of gold creating a halo around the iris. The most unique he’d ever seen seemed to sparkle as his full lips parted slightly, tugging into a playful, seductive smirk.
Darius DeVere was breathtaking.
The description Asher had been given of the male at his side was dull in comparison, for it would be hard to find words to describe this male’s beauty.
“With such a confident, handsome male prompting me to continue, how could I refuse?”
Flirting for the assassin came as natural as breathing. Many in the Guild had to be trained, and for some, the effort was mighty. For Asher, the ability to charm and beguile those he wished to either bed or kill, often both, was easy. He would joke with his friends in the Guild; he considered it his last act of benevolence before his assignment departed this earthly existence for the fade.
The other males at the table paid no mind to Asher and Darius other than the intimidation Darius brought. They ignored the obvious flirting, not that anyone in the Quartaines would think anything of it. Love was never limited with the fae. You loved who you loved, and that was that.
Leaning against the chair, his hip brushing Asher’s shoulder, Darius DeVere moved his hand in a gentle flirting caress over the bare skin of his neck. His fingertips barely kissed the skin. It was just enough to cause a tingly shock of current to race down Asher’s spine and hit his cock.
So Asher wasn’t the only male wanting to play tonight it appeared.