“Oh, my warrior queen,” Astaroth said softly. “Has anyone ever worshipped you the way you deserve?” Calladia wasn’t sure what she deserved. She wasn’t particularly pure of heart or noble of spirit, and her life had been spent spitting in the faces of people who called her loud, aggressive, unfeminine, embarrassing, not good for optics. She faced the world with teeth and claws bared. When she didn’t answer, Astaroth growled and shifted his grip from her butt to her hair. “Listen to me,” he said, fisting the strands at their roots. “You deserve everything you want. You should take everything you
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