And there she was.
His beloved mate, Islinda, finally emerged from the dingy abode where his brother Valerie had kept her hidden. Aldric couldn't help but scoff at Islinda's logic—she had escaped him in search of freedom, only to find herself confined in Valerie's prison. And compared to his own spacious accommodations, this place was nothing more than a glorified shoebox.
Islinda must be blind if she found anything appealing about this place. It looked as though it had been designed by someone who had never heard of symmetry or good taste— an architectural equivalent of a headache-inducing eyesore. Aldric fumed inwardly at her choice, wondering how she could possibly stand it.
Despite Aldric's harsh assessment, the house was far from a dump; it was simply small, humble, and cozy. But then again, who could argue with the notoriously nefarious dark Fae prince?
