Severing My Alpha's Mark
Just then, the wind chime on the door jingled, and a tall, lean man walked in.
He was around thirty, with dark brown hair and piercing gray eyes. He wore simple travel clothes and carried a worn canvas backpack.
"Good evening," his voice was deep and magnetic, with a faint British accent. "I'm looking for some… particular herbs."
Margot stood up. "What do you need?"
"Moon-silver grass, dragon's blood resin, and… if possible, some seeds of the blue star-bloom," the man said, though his eyes kept glancing toward me.
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