"Hello, my purple queen," a deep, masculine voice murmured into Violet's ear, making the hairs on her body stand on end.
The voice was unmistakably Asher's. It was velvety smooth, yet laced with an underlying edge of danger. The nickname and the warmth of his breath on her skin made Violet's heart lurch, both in a good and a bad way.
He said to her, "Why do you refuse to answer to your king?"
Violet turned her head just enough to see Asher's infuriatingly smug face beside her.
"For starters," she said with intentional coldness, "I am not your queen. Stop calling me that. Secondly, get away from me." She wrinkled her nose and nudged him with her shoulder, her annoyance showing. "You smell like blood and dirt. I wouldn't want you to get that on me."
But like an annoying mosquito, the nudge only seemed to spur Asher on further. His lips curled into a wicked grin, his tone dangerously amused. "Really? Is that so?"
