The Huntress - Part 6

Behind him, there was a wise oxen that she had always thought Verdant to be. Overwhelmingly strong, calm, and thoughtful, but at times prone to a clumsiness, as if the being residing in his body was far larger than he.

Then there was the raven of the Blackthorns, the quiet and ever watchful Lasha Blackthorn. A woman that carried all the beauty of the night with her, even in the most intense lights of day.

Before both of them, he looked a giant. Before even the lioness of the dragon clan, Queen Asabel of the Pendragons, he looked not even the slightest bit inferior.

It was not mere appearance. The whole of the room seemed to give in their acknowledgement of him. That sigil that he wore on his surcoat, that image of the beast, and then all those other beasts that bowed to him – did they not understand the irony of it all, that she who was the huntress who pursued him?