“Why on earth would you have to hurt Gerick?” the high fae asked, still not moving her blade away.
“Because he is currently attempting to get to you,” the male said.
“Hmm,” Perizada purred. “Interesting.”
Myanin’s brow rose. “More interesting than your blade at my throat?”
“Possibly,” the high fae smirked. “You are only alive because Lilly says we can trust you. The second I have a single doubt about that, your flesh will know the sting of my blade, and it will be the last thing you ever feel.”
Myanin lowered her eyes. “I appreciate the opportunity to prove Queen Lilly correct.” She said the words calmly, but her magic was attempting to crawl from her body. What the ever-loving hell? Myanin’s magic was her own now as the Great Luna had removed all traces of Lyra, for which Myanin was
