became the embodiment of an angel of mercy as she crossed the battle scene. Her very presence parted the clouds, allowing the sun to shine through. Violence and chaos vanished in her wake, allowing beauty and color back into the dreary darkness he called life.
The light brush of her velvet soft skin against his sweat -dampened cheek tethered him back to a world where happiness yet remained. “Did you have another episode, my pet? Is there anything I can do?”
Damning the restraints of proper decorum , and the judgmental stares of those who passed by, Edgar gathered Lenore in his arms. Breathing in the scent of her sunshine-warmed skin, he attempted to steady his racing heart with a few cleansing breaths. “Yes, there is one thing,” he muttered against her silky tresses.
Tipping her face to his, she allowed him the pleasure of plunging into the adoration that sparkled from the deep violet tarns of her eyes. “Speak it, dearest, and if it lies within my power it shall be yours.”
Gathering both her hands in his, he brushed his lips across the back of one then the other. “ Before you came into my life I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow. I stood, lost deep in darkness. Wondering, fearing, doubting I would ever escape. Then, suddenly, a corner was turned and there you stood, a blaze of hopeful light before me. My love for you is more than love.”
“As is mine for you,” Lenore assured him, her voice heady with emotion.
“If my present existence with you is but a dream, it is one I never wish to rouse from.” Gulping in a breath like a man about to dive to the depths, Edgar dropped down on both knees. Completely at the mercy of she who owned his heart. “Be mine, my flower. Marry me. Let bells toll and my very spirit sing at our blessed union.”
The ring he dug from his pocket was far from extravagant. Even so, it gleamed with eternity’s spark.
Resolute devotion warmed the face of his beloved. Extending her hand, she allowed him to slip that uniting band on her finger. Before he could pull back, she caught his hand and pressed it over her heart. “Can you feel that? With every beat I love you more than the last.”
And he could feel it. That joyful telltale beating growing louder, louder, louder still every blissful moment.
11
Ridley
Having never changed midday before, Ireland battled the awkwardness of the situation by puffing her cheeks and casting her stare to the steps beneath her feet. She was painfully aware that people were walking on the sidewalk not twenty feet from where she fastened the coarse wool cloak around her neck and drew her hood, but couldn’t let their presence deter her.
Madness tipped its hat —as it always did—during the sensory extravaganza of her change. Ripe, prickling nerves alive with agonizing bliss over their heightened sensitivity. The hellish roar of the beast within rumbling through her as it stirred. Hoofbeats clapped against the pavement a moment before Regen made his regal entrance, skidding to a stop in front of her. His wide nostrils began expanding and contracting in eager expectation. Metal winged through the air, churning up the mingling scents of sunshine, horse, and leather, before she caught her circling axe and holstered it at her hip. Ireland treated the beautiful stallion to a soft muzzle scratching before she slid her scuffed black boot into the stirrup and hoisted herself astride. Threading the well-worn leather reins into the grooves of her waiting grasp, Ireland gently nudged Regen with her heels.
“ This could be your weirdest ride yet, buddy,” she warned, blowing her bangs from her eyes. “Is there an equestrian term for conspicuous? Because we could really— whoa !”
Immediately, the stallion stopped short. An abrupt act that almost sent Ireland flying over his head.
“No, not you! Keep going,” Ireland urged, her voice morphing into a high-pitched squawk as she turned her hand one way then the other in front
The light brush of her velvet soft skin against his sweat -dampened cheek tethered him back to a world where happiness yet remained. “Did you have another episode, my pet? Is there anything I can do?”
Damning the restraints of proper decorum , and the judgmental stares of those who passed by, Edgar gathered Lenore in his arms. Breathing in the scent of her sunshine-warmed skin, he attempted to steady his racing heart with a few cleansing breaths. “Yes, there is one thing,” he muttered against her silky tresses.
Tipping her face to his, she allowed him the pleasure of plunging into the adoration that sparkled from the deep violet tarns of her eyes. “Speak it, dearest, and if it lies within my power it shall be yours.”
Gathering both her hands in his, he brushed his lips across the back of one then the other. “ Before you came into my life I breathed an atmosphere of sorrow. I stood, lost deep in darkness. Wondering, fearing, doubting I would ever escape. Then, suddenly, a corner was turned and there you stood, a blaze of hopeful light before me. My love for you is more than love.”
“As is mine for you,” Lenore assured him, her voice heady with emotion.
“If my present existence with you is but a dream, it is one I never wish to rouse from.” Gulping in a breath like a man about to dive to the depths, Edgar dropped down on both knees. Completely at the mercy of she who owned his heart. “Be mine, my flower. Marry me. Let bells toll and my very spirit sing at our blessed union.”
The ring he dug from his pocket was far from extravagant. Even so, it gleamed with eternity’s spark.
Resolute devotion warmed the face of his beloved. Extending her hand, she allowed him to slip that uniting band on her finger. Before he could pull back, she caught his hand and pressed it over her heart. “Can you feel that? With every beat I love you more than the last.”
And he could feel it. That joyful telltale beating growing louder, louder, louder still every blissful moment.
11
Ridley
Having never changed midday before, Ireland battled the awkwardness of the situation by puffing her cheeks and casting her stare to the steps beneath her feet. She was painfully aware that people were walking on the sidewalk not twenty feet from where she fastened the coarse wool cloak around her neck and drew her hood, but couldn’t let their presence deter her.
Madness tipped its hat —as it always did—during the sensory extravaganza of her change. Ripe, prickling nerves alive with agonizing bliss over their heightened sensitivity. The hellish roar of the beast within rumbling through her as it stirred. Hoofbeats clapped against the pavement a moment before Regen made his regal entrance, skidding to a stop in front of her. His wide nostrils began expanding and contracting in eager expectation. Metal winged through the air, churning up the mingling scents of sunshine, horse, and leather, before she caught her circling axe and holstered it at her hip. Ireland treated the beautiful stallion to a soft muzzle scratching before she slid her scuffed black boot into the stirrup and hoisted herself astride. Threading the well-worn leather reins into the grooves of her waiting grasp, Ireland gently nudged Regen with her heels.
“ This could be your weirdest ride yet, buddy,” she warned, blowing her bangs from her eyes. “Is there an equestrian term for conspicuous? Because we could really— whoa !”
Immediately, the stallion stopped short. An abrupt act that almost sent Ireland flying over his head.
“No, not you! Keep going,” Ireland urged, her voice morphing into a high-pitched squawk as she turned her hand one way then the other in front
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