“Tell me, bastard-born Heir,” Tharix purred, his gaze locked on Max. “Did you request your own conception? Did you appeal to the stars for your creation? Or was life simply thrust upon you and presented as a gift no matter how hard living can so often be?” “I was born of love and handed into the arms of destiny, designed to help rule this kingdom by the stars themselves,” Max replied stiffly, a taste of pride and anger tainting the air as his emotions struck the walls surrounding us. “You aren’t even Fae. No one knows what the fuck you are, but it certainly isn’t natural.”
Get his ass Max
