“What does that mean?” he breathed.
Khyvette stared into his eyes and realized they weren’t black at all. How could she have missed it? They were the purple of ripe berries in moonlight, of twilit mingled shadows between the Oldmoon and the Bloodmoon, of royalty and doom and love.
She made her choice. She’d made it long ago. She had wanted this her whole life, wanted before she’d understood what wanting was.
Before she could reply, it happened. Khyvette’s body went rigid. Another voice called to her, reaching across time and space. It was a javelin of command, spearing her soul with such force that she nearly collapsed.
COME TO ME!
Her eyes went wide and her ears flattened. She straightened and hissed, baring her fangs and spreading her wings. The mortals drew back. She knew how terri
