The Duchess couldn't believe what she woke up to.
For one, she never expected to be on a man's back. For a moment, she thought she had been on a soft pillow. The curls of Sylas' hair were impossibly soft, and the strong scent of oak and live wood coming from it shifted something within her she immediately ignored and stamped out the moment she realized where she was.
For some reason, she had never expected Sylas to take such good care of himself. Though, it was hard to care about something like that when you were getting punched in the face by a man who seemingly didn't have any tender feelings for the opposite sex at all.
Yet, she said that, but didn't realize that they were in the middle of what could only be described as a war until several long seconds later.
The noise hardly reached her, she barely budged or jostled on Sylas' back, and she would have thought she was in a luxury sedan with the smoothness of the ride.
