Boucherie Papillon

Author's note: this is from Duke's point of view

- - -

The dining room was lively during breakfast, and I didn't miss the glare that Lazarus directed my way.

Instead of holding Serina's hand under the table, I held her around the shoulders, in an obvious declaration of ownership.

Serina is MINE and that asshole can only dream about laying his hands on her.

Maybe he can fool Serina how he has no funny ideas, but I know that look.

Lazarus's irritating presence reminded me of his words how three years ago I was the cause of an explosion and Serina ended up in a week-long coma. Was that for real, or did he exaggerate? I wanted to ask Serina about it, but I guessed that if she wanted to address that point, she would, so I kept quiet.