Eagene watched Alyssa sleep. The princess stirred restlessly every now and again, and she suspected that in Alyssa’s dreams, a werewolf chased the elven woman across the moors. Despite her regret and conscience, the plan had worked remarkably well.
She never suspected the elven king’s quiet fury would be so intimidating, nor did she guess Alyssa’s people would react with such blatant anger to her “abduction.” The king sent an army of his men to search for these “bandits,” but the roiling dark clouds turned into a thunderstorm less than an hour after dawn, as Alyssa predicted it would during their coach ride.
Elliandre was fiercely protective of her daughter in her reserved way, and Eagene admired this trait. Her own mother was never the “motherly type.” She was more concerned with her ow
