“Stop it, Baelynn! You’re hurting him!” The male fae held her back with both arms, his rage furiously aimed at me as a guard of at least twelve fae males uniformed in blue and gold armor appeared out of the shadows. A royal guard of Issos. “Hurting him?” The one called Baelynn shouted, now holding Una by the shoulders and inspecting her with a fearsome expression. He visibly flinched when he saw her wings were gone. “We must get you home, sister,” he hissed quietly. Sister? My mind reeled. She was the royal princess of Issos, Tiarrialuna, the only daughter of Connall Hartstone, High King of
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