"If that's my head on a poster, make sure they used my good side," I said, leaning over Cassian’s shoulder to look at the paper nailed to the fencepost.
Cassian didn't laugh. He ripped the parchment from the wood with a sharp snap, his jaw tight as his eyes scanned the bold ink. "It’s not funny, Seraphine. The King has placed five hundred thousand gold pieces on your head. Dead or alive."
"Five hundred thousand?" I let out a low whistle, matching his fast pace as we ducked into the shadow of the treeline. "I’m almost flattered. Though 'The King's Cursed Mate' is a bit dramatic, don't you think?"
"It means every bounty hunter, rogue Alpha, and desperate mercenary in the eastern territories is looking for us," Cassian said, folding the paper tightly and shoving it into his coat pocket. "W
