"Is it really that good?"
Elara threw the question at Jaxon's back as he turned to leave. He paused and looked over his shoulder. His eyes were a strange, reddish color, devoid of any warmth or human kindness. Jaxon wore the face of a human, but Elara knew that if you peeled back his skin, you'd find a thousand-year-old serpent coiled inside.
"You mean, should I lay on my back like a dog just because he wants it?" Jaxon asked, his gaze boring into her. He seemed to be trying to read the secrets she kept locked away.
Elara stared back, her expression a mask of stone. After a long silence, Jaxon smirked and pointed a finger at her.
"I didn't take you for the type, Elara. You've got no romance in you."
It was a ridiculous thing to hear from a man like him. Still, Elara managed a small, tight smile—the kind people give when a comment hits a little too close to home.
