Carson
“Now, if I was a wounded faery Luna, where would I be?”
Scanning the individual homes on the outskirts, then the Main street buildings, I locate what’s likely the packhouse, and not far away, spot the illuminated sign of the Candlewood community hospital, its entrance guarded by a thin were patrol, undoubtedly the ones too weak or old for battle.
“Bingo. I just know you missed me, sweet fae. Get ready, princess, because Daddy’s come to take you home.” I flip the collar up on my duster with a grin and a pleased sigh, but when I attempt to port to the hospital, I find myself in the same spot I just left, bounced back by another dark magic barrier. “Of course.”
That f*****g crafty bastard. I’m developing a new respect for the Candlewood alpha—not much or a particularly polite one,
