Excerpt: DawnKing

Elcon looked back at the Elder maid who watched him with all the grace of a doe, lost in her beauty. Never had he seen hair so glossy and black that it shone like an eberac’s wing. She seemed an exquisite gem, or a rare flower, one he might never find again. Her eyes, of palest blue, looked straight into his own, catching there so he could not, would not, look away. She turned and spoke to the guard and, without a backward glance, ran inside the Castle, leaving him bereft.

Spreil drew up beside Elcon and spoke. The sound of Spreil's voice ran over Elcon, but the words did not come clear. Elcon looked at Spreil in a sort of helpless confusion, for at sight of the dark-haired Elder flower - Princess Aewen as the guard had called her - his life had changed forever. Never had he desired anything as much as he desired another glance at her. He steeled himself, determined to find a way to meet again with Aewen, to feast on her beauty. She was an Elder and he a Kindren. It could never be more – but he would have that much.