"Aurelia..." he pleaded, lowering his gaze back to her, his voice dropping into a raspy, desperate hum that was entirely uncharacteristic of the feared sovereign of the East. "I know you suffered that night. I know the witch dragged you through hell, and I am deeply sorry for the terror and exhaustion you endured. But... that was days ago, my love. Surely... surely the power of the Flameborne bloodline in you has mended your aches by now?"
His storm-gray eyes looked down at her with such a pitiful, ravenous, begging intensity that Aurelia had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing aloud.
"Oh, no, my Lord," she said, her voice dropping into a solemn, dramatic cadence as she deftly slipped her waist out of his grasp. She took a swift step backward.
Valerian instantly took a step forward to close the gap, his tall frame looming over her, unwilling to let his prize slip away.
