Warrior Fae Trapped (Warrior Fae #1)(103)

Tears filled her eyes, and she pulled his head down, her kiss sweet but fervent. She clung to him and whispered against his lips, “I love you too. I will always choose you. Over everything.”

“I got you something.” He grabbed the package off the porch where he’d set it down earlier.

She peeled back the plain brown wrapping, pausing to wipe a tear from her cheek, and then gasped at the picture on the box. A silver frame, simple yet elegant.

“It’s engraved.” He pointed awkwardly at the top of the box.

Another tear slipped down her cheek from her shining eyes. She opened the flap and pulled out the inscribed frame: A mother’s happiness is like a beacon, lighting up the future but reflected also on the past in the guise of fond memories.

“The quote is by Honore de Balzac. I thought it fit. We can order a different one, though, if you have something else in mind.”

“No.” She shook with silent sobs. “It’s perfect, Devon.” She ran her thumb across the inscription. “It’s absolutely perfect.”

“That’s what I ordered in that shop you saw me in with Yasmine,” he explained, resting a hand on her waist so he could touch her. “I thought you might like a nice frame for your mother’s picture.”

She slipped the frame back in the box carefully, as though it were a priceless relic, and then wrapped her arms around his middle. “I love you. Thank you.”

He kissed her again and held her tightly. He’d never felt this way about anyone, and he knew, deep in his gut, that he never would again. He and Charity had traveled a hard road, but he was thankful for it. It had taught him about himself. About what he was capable of. About the ability to love another person.

He’d found the woman of his dreams, and he never wanted to let her go.

Besides, no fortune-teller was right all the time, not even Ms. Bristol.





Karen watched the young, headstrong alpha walk away. She sipped her martini again, completely spent. She hated when she had to deliver bad news.

“The Realm will be divided, and that young woman is the key. Her fate—all our fates—will rest on that young man’s ability to do the right thing. There aren’t many who would be strong enough, not given what he’ll be up against.”

Alder walked to the window and looked out. “He has amazing potential. Roger has always seen it. When the time is right, Devon will do what needs to be done. Roger has faith in him.”

Karen took another sip of her martini, and then turned it into a gulp. “I really wanted to tell him that the only way to get his happily ever after is to do as I said, but the mists forbade it. They’re a bunch of awful jackasses.”

“They clearly know the way to get the most favorable outcome.”

“Oh, don’t you take their side.” She collected up her cards. “I’ve done all I can do for them. For their journey. Tell Roger that she can wait until the next quarter ends, but no longer. And if she waits that long, Devon must be strong enough to help her balance her magic. If he’s not, she’ll die on the journey.”

“I’ve made the notes. I’ll make sure Roger understands the gravity of the situation.”

Karen nodded, then drained her glass. “I hear that woman is a remarkable cook. What’s for dinner?”





Want to see if Devon can get Charity to the Flush? Check out Warrior Fae Princess.

Turn the page for an excerpt.





Sign up to be the FIRST to know about book news. Plus get random anecdotes about K.F. Breene’s life, funny quips, and newsletter only bonus content.

Visit www.kfbreene.com/connect/newsletter to sign up.





Warrior Fae: Princess





Check out the next book in the Warrior Fae storyline:





Chapter 1



Steve hummed a little tune as he waited on the Brink side of the portal in the Southside of Chicago. He would get the rare opportunity of shepherding in the new guys Roger had sent to join Devon’s pack. Rough and fierce, these three shifters were called in when things got hairy. Given Charity was getting strong magical surges and needed to be rushed through the dangerous wilds to the Flush, a place in the Realm where a subset of fae lived, so she could get aid from what was hopefully her people, Devon was going to need experience in his numbers.

Speaking of Devon—Steve checked his watch — he and his pack were supposed to be there ten minutes ago. Their flight from Santa Cruz must’ve been delayed.

It wasn’t like Roger to trust Steve with authoritative duties. Hell, it wasn’t like Roger to trust Steve with anything besides fighting. The alpha liked to keep Steve on a tight leash where he could. Then again, maybe Roger thought Emery would keep things in line. The Rogue Natural would be leading them through the wilds, trying to sneak around the elves who were patrolling in large numbers. It would be a longer and slower route than most other ways, but that was why there wouldn’t be elves standing in the way. He knew the wilds of the Realm as well as anyone could. His knowledge made him indispensable. But his choice of company made Roger a little nervous.

Emery ran with a couple of magical chicks that could bring a grown man to tears. One of those chicks, a fire-starter with a joy of killing things, was shacking up with an elder vampire. Vlad’s buddy, to be precise. If they didn’t need his expertise so badly, no way would Roger use him.