Don’t. Touch. Her.”
“You don’t give me orders, witch,” Lorcan said. “And you have no say in what is between us.”
Elide frowned at him. “You’re making it worse.”
“We like to call it ‘territorial male nonsense,’” Aelin confided. “Or ‘territorial Fae bastard’ works just as nicely.”
The Fae Prince coughed pointedly behind her.
The queen looked over a shoulder, brows raised. “Am I forgetting another term of endearment?”
The warrior-prince’s eyes glowed, even as his face remained set with predatory intent. “I think you covered it.”