SAVED BY THE LYCAN KING
Marco leaned forward “Absolutely. I barely made it out of some forests. You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve seen—creatures that can shift between solid and shadow, entire villages built into the sides of cliffs, a tribe that lives under water and only rises on the lunar tide.”
I gasped. “You’re joking.”
He held a hand up, palm open. “May the Moon strike me down if I lie.”
I laughed again “Tell me everything.”
So he did. For the next fifteen minutes, Marco told us story after story about he was riding with desert caravans, sneaking past border guards, fighting off river banshees, sleeping under strange stars.
Every time I laughed, Ferris’s lips tightened just a little more.
“I still have the
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