Fairy-Struck

I met him at the end of my sword.

Not the most romantic of introductions but it suited us. We're both warriors; he's a lord of the Wild Hunt of Fairy, and I'm an extinguisher—a psychic soldier trained from birth to protect our world from his kind. Attraction arced between us like lightning. I saw it in his eyes, watched them shift from frigid silver to molten metal. Despite all of that, I knew it could go nowhere. Fairies killed my mother and her death nearly destroyed my father. Then there's the fact that extinguishers don't date outside our society. A human would be bad enough, but a fairy? That's not just frowned upon, it's forbidden. We cannot be together. It's impossible. And that's fine. I've got bigger things to worry about. Like my new charge: a dryad who just informed us of a fairy plot to exterminate the human race. I'll focus on her and ignore the wild thrumming of my blood every time I look at him. I'm a professional; I can handle one arrogant, annoying, stubborn, dangerously sexy fairy hunter who won't stop staring at me as if I'm already his. I'm not one of his delicate, Fey ladies, longing to swoon into his arms. I carry an iron sword and iron is poison to Fairies. If he gets too close, he'll be the one swooning.