Mists of Velvet

long, elliptical—beautiful, and the mystery she saw in his eyes drew her in. “You know you can trust me, Rowan. I need that trust to be able to get inside your mind completely.”
    “I know I can trust you . . . but . . . I can’t let you in there. I . . . can’t.”
    Kissing her forehead, he soothed her fears. “It’s okay. It’s too soon yet. That’s all. Don’t worry, we’ll find a way around this.”
    Pressing her face into his neck, Rowan allowed herself to absorb Sayer’s heat and the safety he provided. He was a good friend, but obviously not good enough for Rowan to shed the memories of her body being abused by the caretaker of the orphanage where she had lived since the age of five.
    On the outside, she appeared to be a together type of woman; someone who had survived being raped as a teen, and was still able to heal and grow. And she had, in some respects. But in her mind, she hadn’t. She hid those memories, and the fears, from herself and others.
    Trembling as the memories came back, she held on tighter to Sayer. A month ago, if someone had told her she would find comfort and friendship in an immortal Selkie who practiced Enchantment magick, she would have laughed, then promptly called the psych ward for the poor, deluded individual. But now, it seemed almost normal.
    He held her for a while, allowing her to breathe in his calming scent. He smelled of the ocean—clean, salty; the aroma always brought her a measure of peace and calm.
    “You need to rest.”
    She wasn’t tired, but the opportunity to be alone was too much to resist, so she nodded and allowed Sayer to press her back onto the bed. She shuddered as his chest came down to hers. Suddenly she felt smothered, just as when she was sixteen and the caretaker had come up behind her and grabbed her, covering her mouth with his hand as he dragged her to the crypt below the church.
    Her breathing started to quicken, and her vision glazed. But Sayer moved away and reached for the blankets. “Sleep well.”
    The space he created made her breathe easier. No one knew, not even Mairi, her best friend, that she had not been able to allow herself to be with a man since that fateful afternoon. She had pretended she had gotten over it. She’d dated, but never once had she been able to allow a man to do more than kiss her. The relationships would then end swiftly, and she’d move on. Most of the men had been understanding, with the exception of Aaron. He’d turned into a stalker, and a horrifying one at that. He’d wanted something from her, but what?
    He was still out there, she thought. He was part of this prophecy, and the Dark Times that had come to the Otherworld. She was terrified he would find her. When she was alone at night, her room blanketed in darkness, Rowan prayed to the Fates she would never be found. So far, good karma had reigned. She’d been protected here in the court of the Sidhe king.
    The door inched open, and Mairi peeked around the corner. “I’m not disturbing you, am I?”
    “No. We’re done. I’m sorry, Mairi. We didn’t learn anything new about Carden.”
    Mairi’s expression was somber. “It’s okay, Rowan. Just rest. Bran will find Carden. I have someone here who wants to see you.”
    Rowan’s heart sped into overdrive. Keir. Her body lit up, anticipating a glimpse of the rough-hewn Shadow Wraith. He was huge—tall and broad, with a body that looked as if it could snap a person in two; the type she should be terrified of. But she wasn’t. Keir did things to her body she had never experienced before. And he’d never even touched her.
    “I’m up for visitors,” she said, suddenly more animated. Sayer sent her a cocky grin and gave her another quick kiss on the cheek.
    “Sleep well,” he murmured, with heavy emphasis on “sleep.” “And we’ll try this again later.”
    Rowan smiled as she watched him leave. Her expression immediately fell when Suriel walked in. “Hi.”
    He knew she was disappointed. She saw it in the way his face softened. “Expecting someone else?”
    “No.”
    But he knew she was lying.
    Sayer and Mairi took their leave. As the door to her room clicked closed, Suriel pointed to the bed. “May I?”
    “Certainly.”
    Rowan sat up in bed and watched Suriel. Her surroundings looked so normal that it was almost unbelievable that she was actually living in the Otherworld, and the man sitting at the foot of her bed was not a man at all, but a fallen angel.
    She shared a