Betrayer
“So tell me what is he calling himself in this life?”
I bit my lip again, looking at him through my lashes. I leaned closer, letting my lips brush his ear. The arousal in his scent was palpable as he shuddered. “Desirée de Léon. Me. I am the Betrayer.” Before he could pull away from me, I slid the knife from my cuff and into his stomach. He sucked in a stuttering breath. I twisted the blade, his blood hot on my fingers. With another twist, I broke it off inside him. Philip’s breath came out in a slow pained wheeze. “Balric.” He glared at me with hate and anger.
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