Chapter 8 The Ghost Of The Matchmakers

• "Three years of playing the tyrant, Thaddeus? That was your grand strategy?"
• Aurelia's voice pierces the heavy shadow, every syllable sharp enough to draw blood. She refuses to give him an inch, her fingers sinking deep into the warm muscle of his chest while her hips lock deliberately against his lap. The heat between them is suffocating, a volatile mix of betrayal and raw want that makes the air hard to swallow.
• Thaddeus catches her wrists, his grip unyielding yet carefully controlled to keep her pinned right where he needs her. His dark eyes flash with a dangerous heat that strips away her remaining composure.