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pretty enough.”
Manon’s mouth tightened. “I suppose this
means you’re about to go to Morath.”
“Did I say anything of the sort?” He didn’t
bother sounding pleasant.
Manon took a step toward him, her teeth
flashing. In this body, he stood shorter than
her. He hated the thrill that shot through his
blood as she leaned down to growl at him.
“We have enough to deal with today,
princeling.”
“Do I look as if I’m standing in your way?”
She opened her mouth, then shut it.
Dorian let out a low laugh and made to turn
away. An iron-tipped hand gripped his arm.
Strange, for that hand to feel large on his
body. Large, and not the slender, deadly thing
he’d become accustomed to.
Her golden eyes blazed. “If you want a
softhearted woman who will weep over hard