When they reached the autumn border, he slowed and landed on his feet. Silvermist's laughter, filled with such joy, warmed a place in his chest that had never felt anything so strongly before. Never felt true happiness before. This place resided right around his heart. It ached but strangely enough didn't hurt. It felt like an addiction to be near her-he craved her. These feelings wee new and felt both frightening and mesmerizing. Reluctant to let these emotions fade away, he didn't rush to set her down. These feelings might fade the moment their physical contact broke.

When she stood and smiled up at him with such glorious brilliance, his chest tightened. His heart stumbled. Beautiful brown eyes drew him in. He fell, growing dizzy and drunk on her. This dainty, Bright Fairy enchanted every one of his senses. Her touch, where she had held on around his neck, had carressed as smooth as flower petals; his nose tickled with the salty sea scent of her hair; her laughter rang soft and melodeous; her porcelain beauty was blinding.

Her hand reached up and fingered the ends of his hair. "It's soft." Her smooth brow wrinkled ever so slightly, as if surprised.

Swallowing hard, he looked away, suddenly reminded of their differences. She should be frightened. He should make sure she stayed far away from such a dark fairy-an Alamur. He glanced at her.

A gentle smile touched her lips, and she combed her fingers through his thick strands. "It feels like...rabbit fur. The books say male fairy's hair feels like sparrow feathers." Her gaze met his eyes in question.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. Neverland, he had never hated the physical differences between himself and a Bright Fairy more than now. She would back away at any moment, with disgust or fear blossoming in her gorgeous eyes. Squaring his shoulders, he narrowed his eyes. It would hurt less to see her revulsion if he pushed away these emotions she evoked. He kept his tone clipped and impatient. "Bright Fairies. Alamur's hair matches the texture of the creature from whose scream of death created him."

She blinked. "You were born of a rabbit's scream of death?" A hint of horror glimmered in her eyes.

It was better this way-to have her revulsion. He could not make her happy as a mate. "The death of a human in a riot in the Middle East. He had no hair but wore a rabbit skin hat..." He shrugged. Maybe his indifference to the death of a human and animal would horrify her. With any sense and luck, she'd run and never look back.

Instead, she laid a hand on his chest.

A jolt of protectiveness for her shot through him. His heart hurt. Why didn't she run? Why did she stand there, alone with him and trusting he wouldn't slaughter her like an Alamur should? Breath caught in his throat, and he stood frozen. Dammit, he'd never been rendered helpless like this before.

Elegant fingers carressed his leather sash. "Do these hold weapons for battle?" She stepped closer and studied the empty holsters and loops.

Salty sea air filled his nostrils. A wave of peacefulness washed up. A vision of domestic life filled with companionship and love and peace, centered around this female, flashed through his mind. He immediately stepped back. Neverland, what was she doing? "They hold barbs, chains and weapons that Lord Milori does not want carried outside of battle." Rage bubbled up. How dare she point out their differences and act as if none of it mattered!

Tilting her head back, she searched his face. "You are a brave soldier. I've heard the tales of your fierce fighting in the wars. But the rumors are wrong that you wear this empty sash because you live for war. You wear this as a reminder, a symbol of the blood on your hands so you never forget." Her face fell with sorrow. "You are not an Alamur in any sense but heritage."

He startled. His heart raced. She had no right to forgive him for his horrific sins, to offer him a chance to start over. Grabbing her wrists, he held them just hard enough to cause discomfort without bruising. "Do not ever speak to me," he hissed. Thank the stars he wasn't any other Alamur. Anger caused most Alamurs to kill. He'd be damned if he'd spent all these centuries choking out instincts only to have them try to surface because of some stupid female. How dare she offer such kindness to a thing like him. With a powerful flap, he shot up to the clouds. The farther away he got, the more guilt nagged from leaving her stranded. He swooped down to hide in the trees and spotted her flying back toward summer. He'd follow to make sure she made it back safely, and then he'd never speak to her again. He'd leave the moment she neared summer. Flowery, warm scents of summer filled the air and it loomed just ahead. He'd wait to make sure she crossed the summer border. She crossed. He'd make sure she met up with other fairies before leaving. Then he'd erase her from his life. Then he would.

Author's Note: If you read the trilogy, you'll know this is the first time we've ever seen anything from Sleet's point of view. And you'll realize he has a far larger heart than anyone has ever given him credit for.

As we saw in the last lines, he-a fierce, lone wolf Captain in war and once a ruthless Alamur assassine (if you read the trilogy)-is incredibly moved by Silvermist. So much so that he has trouble letting her go.