"Holding a blade to my throat cancels out one of those life-saves, Kael."
"It does not," he snapped. "And I'm not arguing with a concubine bitch burning from the inside out."
"And yet here you are, arguing with a concubine bitch burning from the inside out." Guinevere's mouth was going to be the death of her. Actually, the fact she was alive at all was a miracle.
"I have a blade pressed against your throat. I'm not doing this."
"You're right," she said flatly. "You're not arguing. You just killed seven fae for fun and now intend to kill me too. Understood."
Kael stiffened behind her. "Your mouth, wolf."
"Your personality, Dragon."
Sterling's jaw tightened and Guinevere understood why. She was on a first-name basis with a war criminal and pushed to the point of mouthing off to him. The familiarity between them was broadcasting at volume.
