Eliza's hair was a brilliant shade of red-gold, and it hung in sweeping curls down her back. Tattoos that had not been there before whorled around her chest and down her bare arms beneath the sleeveless tunic she was wearing. Apparently, their absence was part of some glamour that was put on them in the mortal kingdoms. Callan didn’t quite understand it all. Weapons adorned her no matter where you looked. Her gray eyes studied him as she drew nearer. She was beautiful, yes, but also terrifying.
