Several whispered conversations came to a halt. Human females turned in their seats to look at him, but not Kate Kole. She paid him no attention as he chose the seat at her side and plastered on his most beautiful smile. “What did I miss?” he asked in a melodic, low voice. “A really boring chat about character-driven plots,” she answered after a moment without looking up. Her speaking voice was filled with the same sweet rasp as her singing voice, and Cress’s mind flooded with that song: “Daffodils sway and the golden sun sings, la, la, la, la…” It was a voice filled with curves and cracks and
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