Madison Faye

“You’re mine, Princess,” he growled. “All mine.”

I’d run off with her alright, and I’d found something I never thought I’d ever find again. And now I was running back to her.

The sword, still on my maniac downstroke, whacked him on the shoulder, making him grunt as the thing spun out of my hands and clattered to the ground.

I was suddenly very glad the thing wasn’t even remotely sharp.

“Hell of a welcome, Princess,” he growled.