His hands clenched into fists.
"The mark of a Lycan is very unique, if you didn't know. Bronan is hardly a man, not to talk of a Lycan."
She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned forward.
"He is more of a man than you. So what does that make you?"
Slowly, he backed away and smoothed the creases on his leather brocade.
Then, he turned around the table until he stood just beside her.
"Stay away from me, Yer… Your Grace."
But his hearing seemed to have vanished.
He turned the chair until she faced him and braced his hands on the cushioned arms of the high backed chair.
"Say it again."
She gulped but still dared to meet his gaze.
His Lycan began to stir again, more agitated than it had been the last time they had… encountered.
"I said he is more of a man than you." Her voice shook as she spoke.
Why wasn't she as confident as before?
He unclasped her shawl and threw it on the table. A neat stack of parchment scattered on impact and fell off the side of the table.
