The Black Wolf
“It was burning, I only helped!”
The fairy narrowed her eyes. “I can see how you help, with your mouth.”
I leaned toward Zevarion and whispered, “She’s got a temper. Almost as short-fused as that dwarf we met in the forest.”
He gave a low chuckle. “Don’t let her hear that.”
We settled onto the soft carpet, its fabric plush beneath us, as the fairy, still in her human form, approached with a small tray. She dropped warm pancakes onto wooden plates and poured steaming tea into clay cups that smelled faintly of mint and crushed berries.
Hot Chapters