Desired Mate
This beautiful specimen of a man whose eyes reminded me of sweet caramel toffees?
I blushed, cheeks filling with color, when I realized I was staring.
“Your Majesty,” Damon's cold arid voice filled my ears and there was that smell.
Sandalwood.
He stood beside the Lycan King's throne, gesturing at me.
“Behold, your bride. Camille Lionheart,”
My brows snapped at the name. “It's Catherine,”
“Does it matter?” Damon scoffed, folding his arms. “You're Lionheart all the same-”
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