Temper crosses her heels over the armrest of the wingback chair she’s in, her back resting against the other armrest. “So let me get this straight: you two—” she points to me and Des, “are soulmates, but you couldn’t get together for a stupidly long time because this one—” now she points to me, “made some mad-ass wish. And right after you both finally got together, she—” me again, “was thrown into a fae prison, and some psycho king decided to give her wings,”—and scales and claws—“and then you—” she points to Des, “offed that motherfucker, but now you—” me again, “are stranded here.”
Jfc she just described the whole ass book 1 in a paragraph. I bow to thou, Temper.
