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She’s a mortal with no memories.
As her fae liege, he knows only that he must protect her.
But is he her hero . . . or her captor?
Salma
knows only her own name. She doesn’t even remember why she’s ill. Then a
fae lord who claims he knows her snatches her back to his manor, and
she learns that some things are more sinister than death. Like the Court
of Dusk where everyone seems to know more about her than she does and
nightfall is a deadly affair.
Adom’s book of truth tells him that the woman he doesn’t recognize is
a vital member of his household. But the Manor keeps its secrets well,
even from its own master. And even the Shadows seem to want the
beautiful, mortal nuisance he has pledged to protect.
As the threat of an invasion from night itself continues to mount,
Adom knows there will be consequences if he can’t protect her. And Salma
wonders if she can trust him to protect her from himself. Because
sometimes Adom isn't the begrudging, aloof fae he appears to be.
Sometimes he's someone— or perhaps something— else.
The beginning of a haunting, slow-burn, closed-door fae romance
with elements of Beauty & the Beast, Hades & Persephone, and
Egyptian mythology.
3. Romance with moderate romantic content (heavier kissing)
slow burn romance
forced proximity
amnesia
forbidden love
beauty and the beast vibes
gothic manor
broody fae lord
Grab your copy for 10% off
I can delay no longer and
must resign myself to my fate. Taking his hand, I ignore the strange
magic that emanates from him into my khet as he leads me to the open
part of the dining hall. The . . . dance floor.
In the center, Lord Adom turns to face me. Then his other hand wraps around my waist.
I go rigid under his touch.
“I will not hurt you,” he says, a dark glint in his eyes belying his words.
Chewing my lip, I stare at my limp hand. “I said I do not trust you.”
“Maybe so, but I still cannot lie.” His hand leaves my waist long enough to find my fingers and guide them to his shoulder.
“And you said dancing with a fae is dangerous.”
Lord Adom’s hand returns to my lower back, heating me through my bodice,
corset, and shift alike. Then he uses his touch to pull me closer to
myself. “I did.”
Trying not to stumble against him, I focus on centering myself. A hard feat when I only feel like orbiting him.
“The trick to dancing with a fae and leaving with your soul intact is
this.” He begins to sway to music I cannot hear, and I clumsily attempt
to keep up, resulting in my over-keeping up.
“Don’t get lost in the spell of the music, the dance, or your partner.”
“Then I shouldn’t dance with him to begin with. I should be . . . singing. Am I not your minstrel?”
“And you shall be, more often than not. But you still need to be prepared. Look into my eyes.”
I lift my chin to obey, and my gaze connects with his like the compass
needle finds the north. The longer I stare, the more drawn in I feel, as
though if I could just lean in a little closer, the stormy sea of his
eyes could sweep me away to a world more beautiful than this one . . .
Thunder booms, and I start before realizing I was hearing only a clearing of a throat.
Blinking rapidly, my vision clears, and I find myself looking at a frown.
“You fell under the enchantment faster than even I was anticipating.”
Adom clenches his jaw and looks at me like I am Pandora’s box itself,
nothing but trouble.
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