Chapter 48

How long Callm stood amid the broken crockery, bolstering his belief in the absolute correctness of his actions, seemed an eternity to him.

She was a scheming, traitorous witch, who'd come perilously close to destroying his people. She wouldn't talk. In every respect she'd used him. From seducing him to going through with that farce of a hand-fasting.

Of course, he freely admitted, passing a hand over his face, there was a bit of him that wasn't sure of it at the time. Hadn't wanted to have to do it. Was it any damned wonder when he barely knew her though?

Of course, she was a very pretty scheming, traitorous witch. No doubt about it. Pretty damned good in bed too. But he'd proved pretty, as well as pretty damned good, meant nothing when he handed her along that corridor, so it was vital he didn't undercut himself here. Didn't feel this trembling in his veins, not to mention his boots, about it.