The Fae King's Dream (Between Dawn and Dusk #2) - Jamie Schlosser Page 0,139

possessive growl in his voice makes me tingle in all the right places. When he says forever, he means it.

Mistaking my silence for anxiousness, he lovingly taps my chin. “It’ll be a piece of pie. First, I’ll escort you up those stairs and walk you down the aisle. When we get to my father, we’ll join hands as he says a few words in the Old Fae language. Then we’ll exchange our objects of commitment.”

My hand goes to my whistle. Soon, it’ll be his, and his will be mine. “And then?”

“Then I’ll kiss you.” He lowers his head, putting his lips so close to mine I can feel his breath.

“Before it’s over?”

“Yes.”

My toes curl in my slippers, like they’re trying to crawl forward and close the distance between us. “What’s after that?”

“Wedding vows. It’s the same line for all fated mates. I’ve never said the words out loud before.”

“Tell me.”

“If I do and you say it back, our hearts will assume it’s a promise. We’ll basically be married before we get to the altar.”

I’m actually a fan of that idea. “That’s okay.”

Gripping the nape of my neck, he presses our foreheads together. “From dawn ‘til dusk, from dusk ‘til dawn, I’ll never love another.” He releases a shuddering breath, as if it felt amazing to recite the words. “Now you say it.”

Pleasure waves flow from his soul to mine as I repeat the promise. I feel the oath wrap around my heart like armor, but it doesn’t feel heavy. It’s pure happiness.

I’ve never been more myself. More secure. More loved.

“Then what happens?” I whisper, staring into my favorite shade of green.

Damon smirks, and he finally presses his mouth to mine before answering, “We go home, have lots of babies, and live happily ever after.”

Whitley

Three years later

I fight a shiver as I pull my cloak tighter around my body. Cold doesn’t bother me anymore. Since transitioning to fae, living in the Dream Realm feels like the perfect spring day, even though it snows for three quarters of the year.

But standing in the place where I’d probably be buried if I’d died leaves me with a bone-deep chill. I’m on one side of my mom’s casket, and my parents’ most recent anniversary picture is on the other, along with several family photos we’d taken. One at Christmas when I was five. A state fair trip when I was thirteen. My high school graduation.

“Who’s that?” Kallum asks for the twentieth time.

The answer? A guy my dad used to work with, but I can’t remember his name.

I gently hush my son and sift my fingers through his reddish-blond hair.

Damon smiles at me as he bounces our two-year-old in his arms. “They can’t hear us on this side of the portal.”

Gazing at the two closed caskets, I nod. “I know, but the ceremony’s starting soon.”

Plus, that’s been Kallum’s favorite question for three weeks, and I don’t have the energy for it today. We probably should’ve left him back at the castle with Silas and Tehya. Funerals aren’t exactly entertainment for toddlers, but this is his only chance to see some of his relatives, even if he might not remember it later.

We’ve got a good view. Staying true to his word, Damon scouted the outdoor area a couple months ago. AKA about four hours ago on Earth. The spot he picked for the portal is on the end of the first row of blue-velvet-covered folding chairs. From here, I can see the entire crowd and the funeral director at his podium.

I had no idea so many people were going to show up.

I recognize some of my friends from high school. My third-grade teacher. Even my boss from the aquatic center is here. There aren’t enough seats for everyone, and some stragglers end up standing at the back.

Tissues get pulled out of purses and pockets, and I hear sniffles as a few people dab at their tears.

It’s hard to imagine how fresh this tragedy is for all of them. For me, it’s been three years. I’ve had time to grieve, to mourn the loss of my parents. I still feel a twinge when I think about them, but having my own family helps me to feel whole and healed.

“There’s Aunt Silvia.” I point out my dad’s older sister’s salt and pepper hair. “And her husband Leo.”

Seeing them brings back a lot of memories. I’d gone to their wedding the year before the crash. My father had walked his sister down the aisle. She’d been well into her