You had been running for days now. Barely escaping the mating ceremony forced upon you. If the fates were to be believed that man was your perfect match, but you didn’t much believe in fate…The camp you’ve made is nestled deep in the mountains, flame dances along your finger tips, a symbol of your Fae house. A slight crunch makes it’s way to your pointed ears, you clutch your dagger. “Are you done running?” An alluring voice sounds around you. Shadows swirl at his approach.