“Why are you huddling, kitty? Come into the light. I want to take a good look at you.”
The magician’s voice turned out to be strong and deep. Morri flinched. But she pulled herself together and, trying not to show the confusion churning inside her, took a couple of steps forward.
The sorcerer had the build of a fighter, two short scars on his bull neck, and a tangle of half-transparent magic tattoos across his chest. He still didn’t move—he only stared, lazily and calmly.
“Good. Beautiful. Even better than I expected.”