Garcia's POV
The panic in Chaim's voice cut through the morning air like a blade, and I threw open our bedroom door to witness a sight that made my blood run cold. A woman stood in Chaim's doorway, her clothing so revealing it barely qualified as decent attire.
I watched my jaw drop as Ian delivered his cutting remark, his eyes raking over the intruder with calculated interest. Through our mate bond, I could feel his twisted amusement radiating like heat from a fire. That reckless fool was playing a dangerous game, and the woman had no idea she was walking into a trap.
"I am not lost," the woman declared with misplaced confidence. "As the future King, your brother requires a suitable Queen. Someone who understands how to manage servants, orchestrate grand celebrations, and charm distinguished guests."
