Chapter Five
––––––––
Morning broke soon enough, and before even bidding her good morrow, Selyf asked, “What shall we do about the ginger boy?”
“What do you mean?” she asked as she rubbed her eyes. When she sat up and the sheet fell to her waist, Selyf seemed to take no notice of her nudity. “What of him?”
“He cannot come with us,” he declared, still dressed in his alluring cassock.
Trysta had always been drawn to intellect, and there was no more appealing an intellectual than a fay magical. The one thing she’d forgotten about the solitary fae was that, when they did form bonds, they quite often grew jealous and possessive. Most fae, whether pure blood or mixed, never saw the appeal of the solitary intellect squirreled away in his lair, reading and writing manuscripts. When those few
