Royal Alpha Roar.
She pulls away, but I’ve already seen it—her, shamelessly hugging some male whose arms are bound to her like she’s the last treasure in his pathetic existence. A lover, perhaps? I grit my fists, not because I care, but because Perilous is whispering, feeding my mind unwanted images of her naked form. It makes me wonder—has this fool seen it too? Touched it?
I glance at the tall, blond-haired nuisance with brown eyes and a thing of mediocrity wrapped in an ill-fitting charm. He looks like a walking cliché.
Serayah steps back once she spots me, her nervous energy radiates like a beacon. She knows me too well. She knows I don’t approach situations like this with restraint.
“Serayah, sweetheart, where are you running off to?” I say with a chuckle—venom disguised as humor.
