The Canaan witch queen's lair was quite ostentatious, Mallon noted as he sat, waiting for her highness to show up.
"You spent the whole day with her," Eva sidled up to him and whispered, "How was it?"
He grunted. His eyes were on the throne of the witch Queen. "It was something." He said, his mind still on the last image he had of his mate. Her neck angled to give him access, her breaths shallow, the scent of her arousal permeating the very air. If she had been a rive he would've been swimming in her. It had taken the last vestiges of his control not to take her there and then. But he had a plan, and he couldn't rush things, or else she might draw away again.
Before Eva could say another word the inner chamber opened and the witch queen finally entered. The shifters rose to their feet and bowed, including Mallon.
