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The spider now walked between Asterin
and Sorrel, Dorian still showing no sign of
strain in keeping her partially bound, though
he kept a hand on the hilt of his sword.
A sharp glance from Manon and he
dropped it.
“How do you want to play this?” Dorian
murmured. “Do you want me to keep quiet, or
be at your side?”
“Asterin is my Second.”
“And what am I, then?” The smooth
question ran a hand down her spine, as if he’d
caressed her with those invisible hands of his.
“You are the King of Adarlan.”
“Shall I be a part of the discussions, then?”
“If you feel like it.”
She felt his rising annoyance and hid her
smirk.
Dorian’s voice dropped into a low purr.
“Do you know what I feel like doing?”