Wounded Kiss by Willow Winters

His chiseled jaw and silver gaze, I’ve only ever gotten a glimpse of, haunts both my nightmares and my dreams.

There’s a treaty between us and them; mere mortals and the ones who terrify but keep us safe. The contract demands that every year there’s an offering and this year I’ll walk across that stage presenting myself.
We have no idea what to expect if they choose someone, they haven’t in generations.
The only thing we know is that the ones they take belong to them forevermore. If chosen, you don’t come back, or so the story of the treaty goes.

Gather and present yourself.
This is the offering…
… and I… belong to him.