Elizabeth III

Elizabeth's eyelashes fluttered before she could stop them. Curiosity was one of her worst traits. It always had been. Levon had known that about her. 

She had tried so hard to suppress that need to find out every little thing, and she still couldn't help herself at times. Like now. Her lashes lifted and she found herself staring into her lifemate's face for the first time.

She had known he was dangerous. Lethal even. His face could have been carved from the stone, etched out of the hardest rock known to man. His jaw was set, stubborn, his eyes the color of iron ore, a light, almost silvery color, although she could see streaks of the lightest blue and just the faintest jagged lines of rust spread through the irises. 

His lashes were dark like his hair, although his hair had streaks of silver running through it. He had high cheekbones, an aristocratic nose and a dark shadow along his jaw where most men were clean-shaven.