Nikolai held Anya's hand tight, their heads leaning together as a buzz suddenly shook his pants. He glanced down only to find a strange number calling him. With a sigh, he slid his finger across, accepting the call.
"Hello."
He noticed Anya sleeping and tried to speak with a low, quiet tone.
But it sounded rough and violent.
"Patriarch Volkov, it's me. Zara."
With a sigh, he glanced at Anya once again, gently lifted her head, lay her on the cushioned sofa and scanned the room for a thick blanket.
From the sound of Princess Zara's voice, he couldn't help but frown, taking the blanket and placing it over Anya's body.
'I guess she can't wait much longer.'
"What's the matter?"
Although she mentioned a contractual marriage with him, Nikolai couldn't accept it. Not that he lacked interest in her. She was beautiful, and the Djinn race bore a unique, seductive charm that few could match.
