The dust settled in the alleyway. The groans of the Redhart thugs had faded into unconscious silence.
Shaela remained on her knees, her breath hitched in her throat. She wasn't looking at the broken bodies of her tormentors. Her gaze was glued to the sky.
Floating there, bathed in the pale glow of the crescent moon, was a figure of otherworldly elegance.
The disguise was gone.
Long, silken hair the color of starlight cascaded down his back, shimmering with an ethereal luster. His skin was pale and flawless, contrasting sharply with the intricate, glowing moon tattoo etched onto his forehead. His eyes, no longer brown, were pools of liquid mercury that seemed to hold the ancient secrets of the night.
And framing that majestic face were two long, pointed ears that twitched slightly in the wind.
He looked divine. He looked dangerous.
"Beautiful..."
