AARYN
He was outside the market and just stepping onto the trail when the small voice rose behind him. "Aaryn, wait!"
He turned and his heart sank.
Pretty Gwyn, her cheeks slightly flushed, followed him, trotting across the space between them, her blond hair bouncing.
She had to have excused herself as soon as he'd turned to leave. Which meant Elreth knew he'd been there and hadn't come to talk to her.
Shit.
"Why are you leaving?" Gwyn said, slightly breathless as she slowed to stand next to him.
Gwyn was small for an Anima and barely reached his shoulder. She was strong, but she had no… spirit. No light. Aaryn didn't mind quiet females—sometimes, after too many hours with Elreth, he preferred them. But Gwyn lacked that spark that made his stomach clench.
He'd made a terrible mistake one night, a year ago, and mated with her after a feast. They'd both been drunk and she'd made the signals and he'd thought, why not?
