Victor was just about to enter the bathhouse when Lyra remembered something. She struggled in his hold, making him release her. He did so gently, even amidst her panic.
Once she was down, he berated her, "Sweet girl, you could have gotten hurt."
Lyra sighed, casting a glance at him, "I know you wouldn't let me get hurt." That seemed to soften him. But he still didn't know the reason for her alarm. And before he could ask, she replied, "Blake was facing King Xavier alone; we have to go there, Victor."
Victor suppressed himself from lashing out. He mustn't do that. Blake was her mate just as much as he was; it was normal that she worried about that snake. Xavier was a formidable enemy; that wretched snake could get badly injured or die. His sweet girl was a kind female; it was given that she would worry. He knew all that, and yet he felt jealous.
