No matter how many treasures a man possessed, no matter how many immortal weapons glittered in his storage ring, there was one thing Zeon believed he could never afford—the heart of a beautiful woman.
Solara, standing right beside Ethan, sniffed softly. She could smell the gentle fragrance clinging to the woman still wrapped around her father.
Her bright eyes widened, forming a perfect round "O" as shock overtook her tiny face. She stared at the scene as though she had just witnessed a phoenix drinking tea with a dragon.
Rain, however, was not shocked.
Rain was angry.
Her expression became stern, her voice silent but her aura roaring. She stared daggers at the woman embracing Ethan, her fingers curling into tight fists. Her nostrils flared—ever so slightly, yet full of suppressed fury.
What does this woman think she's doing?
Rain had not even brushed Ethan's fingertips, yet this newcomer dared pounce upon him like a long-lost wife returning from war.
