Quill insists I stay inside the castle to watch over Isadora in case it gets bad. I huff at him, but ignore him, following him and his three other packmates outside the gates.
The guards are helping each other up from the grass, one guard having to be propped up against the other one, as his leg is twisted in an odd angle. And though I want to help heal him, I see three figures step closer to us, Mason in the center.
Mason looks different; his skin resembles more of himself instead of Fae, the whites of his eyes back to white. Though the ends of his hair is the only thing discolored, even the madness in his eyes has ceased.
Whatever Mason has done to break the addiction that he had with the Fae fruit, it worked. But yet he continues to work with them, as two Fae knights flank either side of him.
Mason is staring at Quill, then eyeing Cersei, Lip, and Xolo. When his eyes land on me, they become hard, a cold gaze taking over his expression.
