Tate leaned in, whispering in her ear, “Careful, Little Witch. We don’t know how your magic will work inside this cage.”
Jaelyn nodded at him, although her eyes remained on the dark faerie. Her voice was more breath than words, “How do you know my mother?” Staring at the man, the magic slowly died from her hands, its glow lessening as they relaxed at her sides.
The smile that grew on his lips looked awkward, as if the expression was new to him yet couldn’t help it from forming, melting away the austere mien. “I can’t believe it!” His eyes flooded over her whole form, as if taking her in for the first time, making Tate’s shoulders immediately bristle.
“She is both our mother,” Lincoln interceded, equally thrown by the devil’s attention to Jaelyn. “What is that to you?”
The man looked at
