Callista.
“What the actual hell?!” My mate growls, storming his way into my room. The guards are standing outside, silent as stone. Theon is seething, his lips pulled back into a snarl.
Yet all I can think is how good he smells, and how much I just want him to take me in his arms and maybe just kiss me a little.
'Pathetic, Callista, really pathetic.' I tell myself. The man looks like he wants to murder me! I need to grow a spine someday soon, I don’t owe him anything, much less subservience.
“I save you from exile and give you a comfortable place in my castle, yet you don’t do the single thing I ask of you?”
Oh, is that what he thinks this is about?
“Comfort? What’s the use of comfort when I’m a prisoner here! It doesn’t matter if it comes with a shower and some cushions, a jail cell
