IT HAD BEEN A fitful night’s sleep, but at least this time, it wasn’t because of banshees screeching outside his window, scaring the beejeebus out of him. This time, it was because of how Misha had simply walked away from him, not even giving him a chance to explain. And the look on her face, her demeanor, the anger that seemed to fill her—none of it was the Misha he remembered. That Misha was full of life, adventure; she took risks; she dared to love when others would have forbidden it. That Misha had guts.
This Misha seemed almost defeated, her countenance grim, the look in her eyes lost. Yet, she was the same in all other ways. Her bright blond hair, her soft blue eyes. How could that be? It had been almost seven centuries. She should have been reincarnated into another body like he wa
