Silver Eyes, Golden Mark!

e angry fists. Avalora pressed her palm against the shutters, trying to keep them shut, but a strange

whispered. The glow brightened. A cold shiver ran down her spine, sharp enough to steal her breath. For twenty-two years, the mark had been nothing but a silent curse her moth

ed past her window. Avalora's breath hitched. She grabbed a knife from the table-not that it would help against whatever could make t

ora s

nightmare. Eyes like molten silver locked onto hers. She couldn't move. She couldn't speak. She couldn't even breathe. He stepped forward, the shadows curling around his boots like they

t a laugh, but too dark to be amused. "You think hiding it changes what you are?" She swallowed hard. "What am I?" He stepped closer, slow and controlled. Predatory. "Dangerous. To them. To yourself." Then, so

ething deep. His hand lifted, reaching for her wrist. She should've flinched. Should've screamed. Should've run. Instead, her breath caug

ammered. "The one what?" He grabbed her arm, not gently, but not cruelly either-like someone holding on to the only thing stopping them from falling apart. His silver eyes glowed. "The one I w

er like forbidden fire. "Rion," he said softly. "Prince of the Fallen Court." Then he