Lion Head Mesa tearstain

I will kill him.

Arsenio pulled his head back so that he could look to her. The cold blue of his eyes did not falter upon her face.

Anger swirled in his figure, bristled the fur along his neck and shoulders. The man clearly did not have qualms with his feelings for the Pharaoh. The Greek had eyed the royal’s neck for some time. All it would take was one attempt. If Ramesses should try to touch Tamar, it would be the last thing he would do. Arsenio was not afraid of this truth – he would claw his way to the ends of the burning sands until his tongue tasted the Pharaoh’s blood.

If he tries to touch you, Tamar, you will call. You will call loudly. It will be the last thing that spoiled brat will ever do.

His breath was ragged, his jaw clenched.