Lorien POV

Her answer still surprised me. “It’s been ages since we had a refugee cross the border,” she said, as if I were some oddity to be catalogued.

“I’m not a refugee. I’m with my mate.” I kept my voice steady.

“But you’re not marked.”

“Why does everyone keep asking that? It’s nobody’s business.” I wanted to snap that she wasn’t wearing a ring either though there was a faint, angry bruise at the base of her throat that looked suspiciously like a hickey. ...