Only the rhythmic, exhausted gasps of the sleeping Gorvasha broke the heavy, musky silence of the chamber. But Rex was far from finished. His primal instincts were still roaring, a restless hunger that demanded the total subjugation of the remaining pillar of power.
His eyes, dark and predatory even in his state of near exhaustion, drifted toward Cassandra.
The Demon Queen lay there, her regal composure completely shattered, her skin flushed and her eyes glazed with a mixture of worship and desperate, unfulfilled longing. She watched him, her chest heaving, her gaze fixed on the man who had just rewritten the biology of her rival.
Rex didn't move with the slow grace of a lover; he moved with the efficient, terrifying purpose of a conqueror. He reached out, his massive hands gripping Cassandra's waist, and hoisted her up.
