The ice reaper and His blonde obsession
“The mate bond.”
I froze completely. The petty retort died on my tongue, and Lita whimpered deep in my mind, curling into a tight, defensive ball.
“Oh, yes,” Agatha went on. “All those beautiful stories. All those grand fairytales about destined lovers, unbreakable connections, and eternal devotion. And yet, your perfect mate thinks you’re nothing but a cold-blooded murderer.”
I ripped my gaze away from her, staring blindly at the cracked wall, but she noticed the subtle flinch. She noticed everything. A harsh, cruel laugh broke from her lips, echoing off the bare room.
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