"Darling?"
Silver echoed the word, a single silver brow arching in deep, visceral skepticism. The word felt entirely foreign, almost grotesque, coming from her lips. He held her gaze, his amber eyes narrowing into sharp slits as his golden aura flickered defensively around his shoulders, humming like an angry hornet.
"That's strange," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "Since when do you call me by such a name, my Queen?"
He subtly shifted his weight, his boots grinding into the unnaturally pristine grass. He threw a calculating, predatory look around the sunlit horizon. The sky was too blue; the breeze carried a scent that was too sweet, almost cloying, like perfume masking a corpse. I have always heard that Carlos's punishments are unthinkably cruel, he communed with the beast thrashing inside his chest. So what is this place? A trap wrapped in silk?
