He looks up at Sylred. “She’s been gone for a week. A. Fucking. Week. And she has a mate?” “I’m right here—you can talk to me.” He shakes his head, still looking at Sylred. “No, I can’t. Because if I look at you, then I’ll have to look at him, and if I look at him, then I’ll want to punch him in the fucking throat. And based on the fucking size of your so-called fucking mate, that probably wouldn’t end well for me.” I can’t help but snicker. “You should see his bull form.” Evert tilts his head back and sighs. “Great. A fucking lamassu.”
