Rhyson
The little bird didn’t say a word during the car ride, and her face was completely blank as my men led her up to the hotel room. It was only a fifteen-minute ride from the hotel—Kork’s idea, in case I didn’t show up to the ball.
Already, my phone was blowing up, but I ignored it. Someone would distract Kork eventually. I wasn’t sure why I felt compelled to take the redhead from the ball. Mostly it was an excuse to not go in, but it didn’t take long to hear what happened. Larson had claimed his wife, and it wasn’t the spurned redhead.
She was lovely. Petite for a wolf, with a small heart-shaped face and red hair mixed with gold. Freckles dotted the bridge of her nose, but there was no other indication that she spent much time in the sun. Her skin was creamy and smooth.
Beauty was
