Gina L.Maxwell

I close my eyes and let my head drop back on the pillow as I try to contain the dozens of questions swarming my mind.

To look at him, you wouldn’t know he’s almost four hundred and fifty years old,

“You’ve deigned to leave your tower for once. There, you’re Caiden Verran, my pseudo-nephew and all-around pain in my ass. Out here, you’re my king, and I’ll address you as such. Don’t like it, leave me back at the tower.”