8
WYATT
“You first,” I said, ready to shift and attack this woman if she as much as looked the wrong way.
She stared at us, her gray-blue eyes shining like stone gems in the dim light. “My name is Ariella, and I’m an angel.”
I frowned. Angel? Never heard of that one before.
I took her in. She did look angelic with her too white skin, her bright eyes, and her long white-blond curls. Though the jeans pants, the beige sweater, and the brown boots didn’t really scream angel to me.
Beside me, Farrah took a sharp inhale. “Ariella, I’m Farrah, a Frost fae, and this is Wyatt, a werewolf,” she explained, her voice gentle and almost reverent. What the f**k? “We’re hiding here for the night, running from the fae who are forcing me to marry Prince Lark, the Shadow fae prince.”
“A forced marriag
