The Alpha's Warlock
The night he’d kidnapped his own son and planned to suck all his magic out of him had been particularly illuminating.
“I don’t have a fan club. Fan clubs are for teenage losers.” I batted my eyelashes at him and, with malicious pleasure, watched him turn even redder. “But either way, you don’t have to put posters of me on your wall with hearts drawn on them with your favorite pink glitter pen to, I don’t know, not drain my magic for your own purposes? Isn’t this a little bit like father, like son?”
The color vanished from Nate’s face so quickly I could practically hear the blood whooshing south. “How do you know about that?” His voice was a hoarse whisper.