"You should have killed that woman when you encountered her in the North," Emily murmured, her voice soft as silk yet laced with a quiet venom.
She drifted toward the window, the light filtering through just enough to cast a fragile glow on her features. Everything about her posture was calculated– from the slow curve of her back, to the delicate tremble of her fingers as they clutched the embroidered handkerchief. She had long learnt that weakness, when displayed right, disarmed even the strongest.
It had earned her Lennox once before, and it kept him too. Her lessons in the North had made her use that feminine power to her own advantage. And her father? He simply wanted to get rid of her but only to the highest bidder. Of course she couldn't stand by and do nothing while he planned to marry her off to that ugly bin, Thadius. So she charmed Lennox and made him believe it was the mate bond.
