Roderick's request hit Mordred like a slap to the face. The royal beta was approaching middle age—still in his prime by shifter standards, but way too old for Seraphina.
The bastard had been eyeing Mordred's mate since day one. Blonde hair, green eyes—apparently that checked all his boxes.
One night. That's what he wanted. One night with Mordred's mate, just to remind him who held the real power here. He knew Mordred led the fugitives, and this was his way of grinding his face in the dirt.
The shock wore off fast. What came after wasn't rage—it was something colder. Mordred almost laughed at his balls, asking to bed another man's mate like it was nothing.
He didn't even have the decency to look ashamed. Like he'd done this dance countless times before.
Made Mordred wonder how many women in Arkonis had already warmed his bed.
"You look beautiful." Mordred pressed his lips to her neck, right over his mark. Seraphina stood there getting ready for Roderick, fighting back tears.
