Penelope's pov
On the ride to the Bechalot manor, not Zachariah's home, the actual Bechalot manor in their own personal estate, I kept feeling nervous. I have only met the king, the only parental figure to one of the guys. And then Zachariah. Now I'm meeting a member of the council, and a grandmother. I can only expect the fiercest treatment. She might even hate me. That thoughts rolls over my brain sucking away any enthusiasm my body might have produced.
The spot between my legs is still tingling, I can't get the feeling to shake off. Though the thought of meeting Ingar Bechalot is doing a damn good job at erasing that feeling. Because I'm utterly terrified.
She could kill me. She's a Bechalot elder. Also, I have a phobia for old women. They're despicable. They're cruel.
"Are you g
