It was Tristan. He'd come for me.
And boy, he didn't look happy.
His back arched defensively and his eyes filled with glowing anger. His fingers, a bit more chunky than a human's, were stretched in a hostile position as if about to attack. But when he caught my eye, his face and posture suddenly relaxed, almost like a whimpering dog. There was no anger in his eyes, only fear and hesitation.
"Step closer and she dies," said Gavran from behind.
Tristan looked back at him, lowering his strong chin, and his face and posture exploded with fury again.
Gavran pressed his lips against my ears. "Why didn't you tell me you invited your boyfriend to our party?" He asked me in a husky tone. Yet an edge of fright flickered in his voice. He was afraid of Tristan. Good.
"What are you exactly, thoug
