"Worked for you," Lyra cut in smoothly, her smirk sharp as she dragged her nails across her thigh. "You didn’t complain when he had you screaming days ago."
Clara turned on her, fury blazing. "At least I didn’t collapse like a pathetic mess begging for more!"
"Fragile flesh," Lyra mocked, rolling her golden eyes. "It’s not my fault you can’t keep up. Maybe Kael prefers me because I don’t cry every time he goes a little rough."
Clara’s knives flashed in her hands, her voice trembling with barely restrained rage. "Say that again and I’ll cut those smug lips right off your face."
Kael stepped between them, his hand on Clara’s wrist, his other resting lightly on Lyra’s shoulder. "Enough." His voice carried the weight of command. "This isn’t a pissing contest. Lyra’s corruption flared, and
