In this excerpt we are introduced to Phelan, the King of the Fairies.
Three days ago, Phelan had felt mild concern when he had noticed a few leaves on the central oak tree were curling up and going brown around the edges. Today, he felt a gut-wrenching unease when some actually detached themselves from the ancient oak and floated to the ground. This was different. There was something wrong with the magic. He could feel its instability.
He didn’t want people to notice the poor health of the tree, because they might start questioning his leadership – his authority. He had had to work hard to obtain his position as King of the Fae.
Within his fist he clenched a gnarled wand. What it was made from he couldn’t tell, but it was a twisted malevolent thing that oozed power. He had to admit it had changed him over the centuries. His hair had darkened from a honey blonde to an ebony black, his crystal-blue eyes now gleamed a dark indigo making pupil and iris almost indistinguishable. Plus, the bone structure of his face had become more pronounced leaving him with chiseled cheekbones and a broad jawline. He looked hard and dangerous, but breathtakingly handsome – peering into a looking glass was never a hardship for Phelan.
Stay tuned for more!