"Her Highness?" Anaya, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke up, her tone edged with suspicion, her gaze fixed on Rhys and Sorayah's hands locked together. Her arms were crossed, and her eyes narrowed as she stepped closer. "Is that just a nickname? Because she's beautiful? Or maybe there's something more?"
She suddenly brushed Rhys's hand off Sorayah's and sat between them. Her gaze sharpened as she unsheathed her dagger and pointed it directly at Rhys's throat.
"And why are you so... touchy? Are we really here to save your friend, or is this your lover?"
"Anaya!" Rhys snapped, rising sharply to his feet as frustration flared in his voice. "Enough! Please, control yourself in front of her highness."
"Huh?!" Anaya's eyes widened in disbelief, her dagger still pressed dangerously close to Rhys's skin. "So I was right. I followed you here to save your lover, instead of finding a way to escape my pack and save my family?"
