Fifteen Years Ago
“I won’t let you take her,” Fingal said.
“You won’t let me take my daughter back to her rightful home?” The fae warlord Riklar Dheediannil laughed incredulously, stirring the amusement of his followers with his wide grin and unfeeling gaze. “You’ve been thoroughly enchanted by her. A survival instinct. A good one. She takes after me.” He beamed at the girl—not with pride, but with opportunity.
Larsk seemed equally intrigued by Riona, as he had when he’d spied on them through the window earlier that day. Yet the boy’s expression dimmed as Riklar neared the girl. He cautiously slid from his seat and shadowed his father, preparing for whatever move the warlord would make next.
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