Chapter 899 Hunger At Nightfall

• A low, feral growl rumbled out of Isla's tiny throat, the sound so raw it reminded Yves of a housecat forced into a corner, every hair bristling, milk-white teeth bared in frantic warning.
• Yves's smile stopped mid-stretch. It froze, cracked, then tried to rebuild itself. "It— it's fine... all fine," he managed, though the words scraped out shallow and unconvincing.
• Isla wrinkled her delicate nose with regal disdain, shot Yves a glare both royal and feral, and clutched her stuffed teddy against her chest. Without another sound, the little princess marched away, headed for the ornate bedroom Loki had prepared especially for her.