![]() His lips edged down in the slightest of frowns. “That, as you called it, is what one male does to another when they are arguing.” Zacharel blinked as if the answer should be obvious to one and all. She’d so had enough of males and their abuse of supernatural abilities. Before she whipped out that crystal blade Paris had given her and went to town on angel flesh. Fury rose, dark and hot and dangerous.Ĭalm down. But none of that mattered to her just then. Sure, he would escape, and he would be fine. “Why would you do that?” Sure, Paris would be carried inside and locked up. Wrath, on the other hand, must think angels could do no wrong. Paris and Zacharel were not friends on any level. “I took him to the castle and dropped him on the bridge.” Paris and Zacharel were friends despite their differences, and Wrath had yet to make a peep. “Where is he?” she demanded, though she wasn’t too worried about the answer. ![]()
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