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quickly.
God, Gentle laughed. I love dreams.
Ronan shared his laughter. I m a faerie, my Gentle. Dreams and daylight hold little
restrictions upon me either way. He panted and bent to lick and nip along the delicate shell of
Gentle s ear. I could do the same while you were wide awake, I assure you.
The breath teasing his ear had Gentle grinding against Ronan again, unable to control
himself. The excited fluids leaking from both of them slipped down their lengths and made each
motion slick and smooth, easing the way for more.
God, I love magic.
Ronan laughed again, the bubbling sound trailing invisible fingers up Gentle s spine. He
arched his back, pressing harder against the Fae.
Cool lips sought Gentle s again, and he could do little but follow where they bade him.
He d belonged to Ronan since he was a child. Gentle loved his captive prince; he d loved him
even before he knew what that word could mean. Now, as an adult man, he lusted after him as
well.
God, I love you, he breathed into that strange mouth.
It was as if he d flipped a switch. Ronan pulled away, his ambient coolness turning truly
cold, his eyes downcast.
Ronan? Gentle asked quietly. Their clothes were on them once again, and he flinched
at the harsh feeling of cloth against his oversensitive skin.
I also love you, gentle human. It is why I must let you go.
Gentle s heart hit his stomach in one sickening drop. He opened his mouth to protest, but
found his lips quickly covered by one insistent finger.
I will watch over you as long as my life allows; however, you need to forget me. You
must live on as you were meant to.
I was meant to be with you!
The changing blue eyes were sad. Oh no, my beloved human. As is the habit of my kind,
I have stolen you from your life. Even caged as I am, I have managed to steal you away, and this
was so very wrong of me.
I don t mind, Gentle insisted.
Ronan smiled wistfully. I know. And for that I love you even more. Now however, it is
time to wake up.
Gentle sat up in bed, Ronan s name on his lips and an uncomfortable wetness in his jeans.
But Ronan wasn t there. He drew his knees to his chest and laid his head in his hands, trying to
feel normal again. He couldn t though. He didn t remember how.
I wanted you to steal me away, he sighed.
* * * *
Blue, shifting orbs opened slowly to take in the bars above him, the planking above them.
His prison, and he was alone. Once again he lay trapped in his childlike form. Dull, human hair
stuck to the wood beneath him by his own dried blood and tears. His hands ached less from the
beating they d taken trying to protect his face and more from the knowledge that they d held his
human, even in a dream. His heart ached with a more bitter knowledge.
He d done the right thing. For the first time in his dealings with the human race, he had
acted for the enhancement of one of their short lives. Finally, six hundred years after seeing that
woman and her child, he truly understood that deep and lasting emotion called love. When he d
first met Gentle, he d thought he knew the emotion well. He had been so very blind.
It had taken six hundred years to learn something humans had a bare hundred, if that, to
comprehend. And yet we think ourselves so far above them in our emotionless ivory towers.
He shook his head at his own folly.
Closing his eyes, he opened his consciousness in a new place. His human was upset,
pacing and staring out of the window. So alone, but if Ronan had learned anything in all of his
years, he had learned how well a human heart could heal after being broken, given time. He d
done the noble thing.
And a moment later, he watched in wonderment as Gentle returned that noble act with a
gesture of his own.
Ah Gentle, Gentle, my joy, my light.
Chapter Six
The tree outside of Gentle s window blew in the summer wind, claw-like branches
reaching toward him where he sat on his windowsill, watching the last faint colors of sunset fade
into black. He was grounded. It was demeaning.
He scratched Chance behind the ears without looking down at him. All of his attention
was focused out at the world, toward the carnival. A deep urgency had been building inside of
him. Something he d dreamed? Something he d imagined? He couldn t say anymore.
The branches became hands in his mind, beckoning him to jump to them.
There are different levels of crazy, he told no one in particular. I haven t reached that
one yet.
Still&
It wasn t too far to jump, and his parents room was on the other side of the house, so
there was no chance they could see him.
Gentle s heart raced at the thought. Since he d gotten out of the institute, he d done little
to disrespect his mother s wishes. Not taking his pills was the height of his rebellion. This he
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