"Silence, peasant," he commanded coldly, not even sparing the manager a proper glance. "Do you possess any understanding of whom you are daring to speak against?"
The young Blood Elf sneered openly. "If I have declared my desire for the Frostsword Executioner ability scroll, then it shall be mine regardless of who won the bid." His attention shifted toward the three girls. "Hand over the scroll before I—"
The remainder of his words abruptly died in his throat. His eyes widened as his gaze landed upon Clementine. For a brief moment, the world around him seemed to fade into insignificance.
Beautiful... No. Beautiful was far too inadequate a word.
His heart skipped a beat as he stared at the crimson-haired vampire. In all his years, he had never encountered a woman quite like her. The nobles of the North, the daughters of powerful bloodlines and houses, the countless beauties he had pursued—all of them suddenly appeared dull and ordinary by comparison.
