The Black Wolf
What if Zevarion wants to be free, but doesn’t know how to say it?
One morning, after he left for his usual hunting trip, a shimmer of golden dust twirled through the air in front of me. My pulse quickened.
Another fairy.
I rolled my eyes, snatching the nearest broom by the wall. “Say one more word about Zevarion or me and I swear, I’ll crush you with this broom,” I snapped.
The fairy flinched and fluttered backward, her wings trembling like fragile glass. “I’m not here to confuse you,” she said, her voice small, almost pleading. “I came with an easier way out for you.”
Hot Chapters