to be done. But this execution had ended the debate.
A troll, driving a horse-drawn cart, drew close to the porch. “That cursed family had wraith-blood and got what they deserved.” He spat and plied his whip again.
Some cheered the troll’s harsh words, while others booed and shouted protests against half-breed hate-speech.
And this was what caused Malik the most despair — that his realm was divided. A large number of his people hated wraiths with a passion because of the Invictus, while others believed that innocent wraiths, unaffected by Margetta the Ancient Fae, should be tolerated and accepted like any other realm-person. It was Margetta who turned wraiths into a killing force.
But as the troll and his cart disappeared down a side lane that led into the forest, Malik knew the time had come to make a significant change, and one he’d hoped to avoid. He would get the Sidhe Council to agree to a mandate, commanding the removal of every last half-breed to Swanicott Realm for all of Ashleaf. Swanicott had one of the few protected wraith colonies in the entire Nine Realms and the mastyr there had offered Malik the opportunity countless times to take in his endangered half-breeds.
The death of the twin elven boys had finally finished off his last resistance to relocation as a solution to the divide in his realm.
He basically had a terrorist organization working inside his realm, and he didn’t have the ability to uncover the principal organizers and bring them to justice. He’d never believed in relocation as a solution, nor did his vast number of supporters. But unless he saved the several thousand realm-folk who carried wraith-blood in their veins, he would face decades of exactly this kind of murder.
And there was one other issue that needed to be addressed.
Willow.
He thought about what he’d done just before dawn and how he’d let himself get distracted with his longings for Willow. Maybe if he hadn’t let his guard down and finished up his nightly patrols with a visit to her favorite pool, maybe something would have alerted him to the terrible events here in Birchingwood.
Maybe he’d been distracted, maybe not. But if there was the smallest chance his pursuit of Willow had interfered with his proper managing of Ashleaf, then he needed to find some way to end his obsession.
And just as these thoughts passed through his mind, suddenly, he felt Willow’s presence. In response, his heart started pounding hard in his chest.
Scanning the crowds clumped all along High Street, he finally caught sight of her at the edge of the forest. She had a soft glow around her that meant she’d covered herself in a fae charm, just as she did when she went shopping in the various villages.
And as had happened the first time he saw her at market day in Cherry Hollow, and every time he’d seen her since, he felt stunned by the sight of her. She wore a pair of jeans and a tank top against the warm September day, and her red wavy hair hung free about her shoulders.
She was so beautiful that something inside his brain started sending flashes of lightning that traveled to every part of his body. Some realm part of him knew her, recognized her as more than just a woman he wanted to take to bed. Was Miriam right? Did he need to take a serious look at what was really happening between himself and Willow?
He forced himself to take a breath, then another.
He started to contact her telepathically, when he felt her rapping against his mind. Again, the woman was powerful.
He allowed the communication. Hello, Willow.
Malik, we need to fix this. I need you to stop coming after me. I have important duties that your presence interferes with, and I can’t allow this to go on.
He was surprised, which reminded him that he really knew very little about this woman. But what duties was she referring to? He knew she was focused on something, but on what? And why did she live such a secretive life?
Still holding her gaze, he