A faint ghostly miasma drifted around her, but there was nothing savage about it. She looked like some ghost fairy who had stepped out of the underworld itself.
She was Lydia Wraithmoor, the Ghost Clan Princess.
A black longsword rested in her hand. The aura pouring off her was vast as the sea, and she fixed Skylar with a cold stare. The killing force in her eyes was so sharp it was almost visible.
"You think you can touch him?" Lydia's voice came out cold enough to cut bone.
She spoke one word at a time. "Did you ask me first?"
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