Roxy's voice was softer than silk, her violet eyes wide, shimmering, and completely devastating. She tilted her chin up just a fraction, the absolute picture of a fragile, exhausted, entirely adorable Queen.
Zarek was completely, utterly powerless.
He melted. A deep, defeated groan vibrated in his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut, cursing his own catastrophic weakness when it came to his mate, before leaning down to press a hard, bruising kiss to her pouty lower lip.
"You fight dirty, Roxann," Zarek grumbled roughly against her mouth. He pulled back, his eyes blazing with a mixture of immense irritation and profound devotion. "Fine. But the Tiger doesn't leave this room. If she lifts anything heavier than a pillow, Torian, I will roast you on a spit."
Torian simply grunted, waving a massive, dismissive hand as if swatting away a fly.
