Jax lay on the bed, one arm folded behind his head as a pillow, his gaze fixed on the entrance.
Waiting.
Waiting for yet another thrill.
The door opened. Rudiger appeared first gesturing politely for the guest to enter. Then he stepped aside and quietly left while closing the door behind him.
A figure entered.
Her hair was a cascade of deep burgundy, so dark it was almost black, but it caught the light in streaks of rich wine-red.
It fell straight and heavy, framing a face with sharp, elegant features. Her eyes were a piercing, molten gold, their usual predatory sharpness now clouded with a storm of fear and defiance.
A delicate tracing of crimson scales graced the high line of her cheekbones, traveled down the slender column of her neck, and dusted the backs of her hands, gleaming like polished gemstones under the room's lights.
