“I’m used to skewering my enemies on ornately decorated swords,” Alaric says as he wraps his long fingers around his glass but does not drink it. “Pretending to be your husband is a more pleasant form of revenge. Plus it has the added advantage of less gore on my clothes.” “I’m never certain if you’re kidding or not, but I love this bloodthirsty version of you.” I hold out my glass, and he clinks.
