"You know Jinx?" she asked, surprise coloring her voice.
Flynn's expression did not change. "I noticed that I did not see her in the party just now. That means you have been careless in watching over your guests, Lady Nala."
His tone was so serious, so cold, that Nala felt a chill run down her spine. She had been in politics for years. But something about Flynn's intensity—the way his green eyes seemed to burn—made her realize that whatever relationship existed between him and Jinx was not ordinary at all.
How had they met? She would never be able to guess. Jinx's world and Flynn's world were never supposed to mix. One was a discarded wife. The other was a commander of the most powerful squadron in the country. Their paths should never have crossed.
And yet, here he was. Demanding to know where she was.
Nala walked to the door and pulled it open. A servant was passing by, a young wolf beastman with nervous eyes.
