The Freak Is The Mate Of The Lycan
I called, expecting Thora or one of the servants.
Instead, Perla entered, her movements as graceful as ever. She looked ethereal in the afternoon light, dressed in a simple linen dress that somehow managed to make her look both approachable and untouchably elegant. Her hair was pinned up, revealing the sharp line of her jaw.
"I thought you might want company," Perla said, approaching the bassinet with the kind of reverence one might show toward a sacred altar.
"Ares said something about the ritual," I said, deciding to cut through pleasantries. "He made it sound like it might happen soon, which seems..."