Slave To The Archangel
Alyssa
The entire walk through the forest got my stomach in knots. I'm nauseous thinking about having to face Fabian again. I haven't had time to practice my magic, and it bothers me that the prophecy spoke of me having two mates, while in reality, I'm only bonded to one.
"Man, these acorns are killing my feet," Sleepy complains. He is walking behind me, muttering at everything he steps on.
No shoes are covering Sleepy's feet—the fairy is in some battle for power against the angel, which means he is refusing to be in fairy form. Men can be so ridiculous. It's as if Sleepy believes I would look at him differently if he sat on my shoulder.
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