“Every time he smiles at you, I want to rip his lips from his face.” My brows lifted as I looked at Casteel. “That’s excessive.” “Not nearly excessive enough,” he grumbled, eyeing where the Atlantian had disappeared into the nearby stable. “Sometimes,” Naill began as he hoisted himself onto his horse, “I do believe Emil has a death wish.” “Same,” Casteel muttered, and I rolled my eyes.
