“She's mad, but she's magic. There's no lie in her fire.” ― Charles Bukowski
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Alastair stared at Emil, who was still sleeping, snoring loudly, without no care in the world. Alastair sighed. The stupid guy was lucky enough to sleep whenever he could.
Knave's chalice was empty by now. The owner of the tavern, who knew Emil's father, had graciously allowed them to spend the rest of the freaking night at one of the tables.
His mind was filled with what happened last night. The kisses. The fire. And then her anger when Emmett was beating the s**t out of him. Especially the way she had screamed at Emmett to get away from her mate.
"Mate. She is our mate. I should have known!"
Alastair didn't want to leave Arabella there, alone, but he had to get away from there... or it would have b
