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Prologue

Not a person, a creature, a curse could cast a shadow over the day.

Not a threat, a fear, a challenge.

He never understood the awkward emptiness that lingered in the corners of his soul, a deadened limbo of sorts. He never grasped why not a single eligible maiden caught his eye or made him yearn to capture her attention.

He held no title, had no fortune to speak of. No. His coin was made through hard work, shown in calloused hands and the bulk of his muscles. He had created a comfortable living for himself, but it wasn’t anything to croon over. Certainly, there were many wealthy, titled men who vied for the women of the season. However, he’d learned from his teenage years that despite all the teachings and societal understandings, sometimes women reverted to basic instincts.

To a comely appearance.

And so did men.

Mikhail had his share of the fairer sex when it came to marital options. Sadly, none appealed. None.

Until he crossed one particular woman’s path.

When his life finally made sense.

Anam cara.

Soul mates.

The minutes and hours without her near left him clawing through murky depths, cleared only with their reunion. His life held no meaning without her filling the void that plagued him for a lifetime. She filled him with love and light every waking moment, and thoughts of her suffused his sleeping mind with dreams of a grand future together.

None of that mattered.

His beloved sat at the wooden table in their kitchen, lost in thought as she peeled potatoes for their supper. A basket of fresh vegetables and herbs sat beside her. He stood in the doorway, taken by her beauty, as he often was. He’d never tire of the sight of her, with her thick black hair and creamy complexion. Her violet eyes framed by dark lashes and the gentle slope to her brows. She had no need for cosmetics. His beloved possessed a rare natural beauty he would never wish for her to alter.

But today, her rosy lips pursed in thought, a faint crease marred her otherwise smooth forehead. She wasn’t looking at the potato in her hand, but peeling it seemingly by memory. Her burden leeched into his consciousness, igniting a faint ache along his palm from the healing wound.

Their eternal promise to one another. The magic of the Fae binding their souls together.

Forever.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder if she regretted what transpired between them only a short time ago, as they made their vows.

“Little bird?”

She startled, the tip of the paring knife nicking her finger. A single drop of crimson rose from the wound, but the guiltthat flooded him on causing her pain was almost too much to bear. He hurried to her side, gathering her injured hand in the cradle of his and lifting her finger to his lips.

“I’m so sorry, beloved.”

Her lips curled in a serene smile, her eyes brimming with the love that filled his heart with each beat. “’Tis no fault of yours. I was lost in thought.”

“I hope you’re content with the events of—”

“Oh!” She waved a hand, lowering her gaze as a rosy flush deepened over her cheeks. “I hold no regret in my heart. Naught could dim the light you feed me.”

“It seemssomethingtries to smother the flames.” With the faint essence of a sweet coppery flavor on his lips from her blood, he lowered her hand and pulled a chair beside hers. “Do those men continue to bother you at the market? I told you I’d accompany you, but you insisted on going while I bathed.”

She laughed, a light, musical sound that was as gentle as she, and shook her head. Yet he caught the shadow of untruth in her eyes. His darling woman. She never wished to worry him.

If only she understood he worried about her constantly. It did not matter that she held magical powers. That she came from a line of Fae blood and he was mortal. He was her husband, her other half, and he would worry.

“Those at the market are no concern of mine. My heart belongs to you, my love, and only you.” She placed her soft hand over his and smiled, melting away the worry that left a subtle ache in his chest. “I’m not as weak as I appear.”

He chuckled. “I’m aware, but…” He couldn’t help it. It was in his nature to protect, and his beloved he would protect with his life. Lifting his hand to cup her cheek, he leaned close and whispered. “I will always worry when you’re not near. Worry that your magic failed or a man’s intentions were as evil as his soul, and I was not there to protect you.”