Raven had walked across to the mainland again, enjoying her freedom. Screw the Danes, screw her family. If Tarben didn’t want her, Ranjord did. She was beneath her brother, Aegir, the king of Ranjord. SCREW THEM!
Following her thread, she wandered in, to Star Lake, to find her soulmate. To be honest, a one-night stand sounded nice. She was angry and she was fuming. The standoffish bitch, Émilie, was ignoring her again. Royalty should not be ignored.
The stark white male with antlers and green eyes surprised her. He was sitting there with a grin on his face-what a strange wolf. Nevertheless, she waltzed up to him. “Hello, I’m Raven. What’s your name? You look peppy.” With a wink and a hop, she perfectly cast the image of a flirtatious goof out for a stroll. Who actually said that? Yet, Raven could act, and she figured she’d sell it. She did it all the time in Tarben. She was nothing if not a very sugary bitch.
The lake was beautiful tonight. Raven hated beauty. What was it worth? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. She hated being here. It reminded her of what she wasn’t.

“I’m so powerful, I don’t need batteries to play!”