Elias had never felt this type of rage before. His list of enemies was as long as the stairway to hell. There had been more people that'd spit on his grave than there are citizens of his country. He had heard the worst of insults from his enemies that were buried six feet under.
But three simple words were enough to mortally wound him. He felt a sting in his heart, like a knife twisting into the empty hole. Who would've thought there was a beating flesh there? One that loudly thumped against his chest, complaining of a thousand needles plucking the useless organ.
"What did you just say?" he seethed, taking a powerful step in her direction.
Adeline stood her ground. The little thing he had made a Queen, the little thing who's confidence he had built, the little thing that he offered his world to. She dared strike him in the face when he had never laid a hand on her. She dared to spit out the vilest of insults when he had never fathomed hurting her.
