His Warm-Blooded Mate
With a bow of his head and a murmured apology, he left the room while the rest of us still tried to swallow down our laughs.
"Now that you're awake," Quade said, ambling further into the room with his fists in his low-riding sweats and a shirtless upper body. His tattoos swirled around his skin, thick black lines making up different images. And yet, with my vampire sight, it wasn't the tattoos that grasped my attention but the pink scars that lay beneath — that he clearly tried to hide. He stood in front of the witch with furrowed brows, "mind explaining the map and how we can save the people that were taken from us because we've been coming up short."
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