RETH
He shook with rage. Shook so hard and felt so much, Behryn had dropped a hand to his shoulder. Apparently, he could smell the rigid tension in Reth. Whenever Reth seemed on the edge of losing control, Behryn would grip him in a show of solidarity that was silently cautioning him.
Reth dipped his chin once to acknowledge that he would listen to his closest friend and advisor, but he continued to squeeze his hands to fists and wish they were around her throat.
He had never in his life wanted to light a female afire—not once. But none had ever threatened his mate before—or the loyalty of his people.
Reth was prepared to make an exception.
"…he had been scenting all evening and… he is the king," Lucine said, her voice clear and strong, though she presented with far less grace.
