Cathy

I lift my chin, then farther up, then all the way up, to meet his gaze. To call the General massive is an understatement. He is a monster. A man-mountain, the biggest, most powerful leader I have ever seen.

His blue eyes blaze at me.

A ripple of fear mixed with something else—lust? Anticipation? — tightens my stomach.

His face is all hard planes and dark angles. Long black hair flows to his shoulders. His lower lip is full, obscenely so. It should soften his looks; instead, it only heightens the sense of danger that clings to him like a rich coat.

It’s the exact opposite of the faded vest that embraces his torso.

His clothes strike a jarring note in the middle of the most prosperous pocket of this city, which is where we are, but it suits this leader. Declares exactly what he is: an asshole who doesn’t give a damn about anyone else.

Who takes pleasure in surprising his friends and outwitting his enemies