“She’s mine to have!” Rory blasted at him as he worked the bridle into his horse’s mouth. Their argument had started shortly after the queen had left his brother’s bedroom, continued with wilting glares over breakfast, and now followed them into the stables as they prepared for their journey to the Wetherill kingdom on the outskirts of Ashur Wood. And it hadn’t lost any of its bite as Rory continued to defend his reckless actions. “I don’t see why you’re popping an aneurysm over it!”
“Shhh!” Rían scolded, looking over his shoulder and eyeing the stablehands working the stalls further away. Licking his lips that still prickled with wolfsbane, he hissed, “Keep it down! We don’t need you to bloody advertise this!” Leering at his brother over his saddled horse, he continued, “And she isn’t yo
