TRADING MY CHEATING HUSBAND FOR THE LYCAN KING
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“Never again. My heart cannot take it. You played dice with poison against two thousand-year-old goblins and you won and you did it for sport—”
“I did it for Rayana.”
“You did it for Rayana and a little bit for sport, I saw your face when you smashed that cup, you enjoyed that—”
“Okay,” I admit. “A little for sport.”
“A little for—” Queenie throws both hands at the sky. Then she grabs my arm, and the brightness comes flooding back into her, deliberate, a woman choosing to leave the beetle shop and all its horrors firmly behind her. “No. No. We are done with that. My nerves are in ribbons, I need something frivolous and obscenely expensive immediately or I am going to lie down on these cobble