Chapter Sixteen

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The werewolf is angry at me. His default setting seemed to be anger. Annaliese was learning which strings to pull if she really wanted to piss him off. Anything concerning his brother and his people had a way of doing the trick.

As she penned in her letter to Lorcan, she could see him craning his head from the ground to see what she was writing.

That's it werewolf. Suck it up.

Annaliese was enjoying the higher ground. Literally.

"What have you put, love?" He asked, trying for niceties as if that would win her over. He'd been the biggest dick to her for twenty-four hours straight now. Did he really think she'd forget that with just a few words?

Stupid mutt.

She wrote faster.

"Nothing that you have to worry about," She answered light heartedly. All the while, her smile remained one of bitterness.

Today, she was addressing a problem.

Well, one of many.

It hadn't been all that long since Seth had returned with his report from meeting Lorcan and Evette. Apparently, the werewolf King was done fighting with her. Now that he'd claimed Evette as his mate, he wanted their two species to get along. He wanted to be in Evette's life, just like Annaliese did. By that logic, they'd have to come to some sort of truce.

The werewolf had changed his mind all of a sudden. Now that he was seeing sense, he expected Annaliese to drop everything he'd done wrong against her species. Against Evette.

Not happening, werewolf.

And so, he'd requested entrance into her realm to negotiate matters civilly.

Spurred along by his brother, Annaliese had other plans. Chronos had proved to her last night that his people couldn't be trusted. She wouldn't make that same mistake with Lorcan.

Being a Queen meant learning from one's mistakes.

"Annaliese?" He pressed, fleetingly caressing her ankle. "Look at me, love. Tell me what you've written."

"And why would I do that?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Nice try werewolf." Finishing up, she closed the book and pushed it aside. Soon, the Squire would come out to clean up after her. He'd put it back to its rightful place. He knew better than to read it, lest she stick his decapitated head on a stick. Now, she rose from her chair, towering over the werewolf slumped at her feet. "I'm going to take you for a walk, werewolf, so roll over."

"You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am. If you want to manipulate me, Chronos, then this is the treatment you should start to expect. I didn't take kindly to your stunt last night. I'm sure this will teach you a lesson."

"You're an evil bitch."

"And you're an invasive, hypocritical twit. So tell me something I don't know."

Why was the urge to mark her still running high? When she actively tried to humiliate him and bring him pain, how was it that he still wanted to sink his teeth into her neck and tie himself to her forever?

There was no way he found her domineering ways attractive. Oh God—he was no better than her Squire.

Her Squire who'd better be dead by now.

He did. He really did find her domineering ways attractive. And he'd bet Annaliese knew her way around the bedroom. If he told her to sit, he wouldn't expect her to stay.

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