Nyssa had been waiting expectantly for the alpha’s appearance; she had groomed herself with lush oils and eagerly waited in his study.
But the whole day she had heard he had been with Celeste, locked in his chambers, and that made her seethe with hate.
So she trudged across the study toward the king’s private chambers.
“I’m sorry, mistress, you are not allowed in,” the guard spoke, just as Nyssa’s hand assaulted his cheek.
“Move,” she gritted through her teeth as she walked into the room, stopping in her tracks to see Syzar’s head tucked in Celeste’s chest and his hands wrapped around her.
The intimacy and skin to skin showed that Syzar wasn’t at all pushing his slave away:
Her body trembled from anger and hate, curses heavy on her tongue as she rushed out of the room.
“How could h
