Nefretiri
"Now, is that how you speak to your savior?" Quinten entered the luxurious hospital room, and Kali and I retracted from him. He smelled like… Ivan. The scent of lightning storms and heather invading my senses was so powerful that I would've believed he was my mate if I didn't know what he was doing. "That isn't very grateful, your highness, and you have much to be grateful for."
I stared at him, unable to speak.
Even though I knew he wasn't my mate, my body reacted as if he was. It was terrifying, and I quickly touched my neck, ensuring I was still marked with Ivan's bite. Thankfully, it was still there. The raised edges of where the skin had healed were covered by the magical ink that had appeared after. Still, it scared me that he could do this. Was it an enchanted item, or was it him? How was it possible?
"Grateful?" I had heard him right. He'd said grateful? "What should I be grateful for?"
I glanced at Cabe, who shrugged helplessly.
