The Bitten Queen
There was something in the way his jaw tightened, the way his knuckles whitened around the bottle, that told her this was no longer a conversation.
“I’ve told you, haven’t I?” he said softly, dangerously calm. “You push. You test. You—think you can get away with it.”
“I’m not—” she began, voice quivering.
“You think you’re careful,” he snapped, voice rising now, a bark of anger slicing through the room. His hand shot out before she could blink, slapping across her cheek with a sudden, shocking force. The sting exploded instantly, leaving her head spinning.
She staggered back, breath catching in her throat, hand flying to her face. The taste of copper filled her mouth.
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