Vex laughed, the sound bright and mocking in the tense silence.
"Oh, Vara," he chided, shaking his head as if dealing with a petulant child. "You are entirely too nosy. It is unbecoming."
"Threatening war just because I refuse to show you my mate? That is petty," Vex jeered, his voice dripping with condescension. "And honestly? It is simply just very pathetic."
He tutted softly. "And to answer the question I know is burning a hole in that jealous little mind of yours—yes. My mate is prettier than you. By a million times. It really isn't even a competition."
Vara's face turned a violent shade of beet red, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. She was trembling with a mix of embarrassment and murderous rage.
But before she could scream, the mountain of muscle behind her stepped forward.
"Turn around, Fox."
The voice was low, laced with malice and a promise of extreme violence.
"Or I will make you turn around."
