It’s taken me a long time, Sandra, because I wanted a man of power for you, someone you could respect. He might be rough with you, but he’ll rise quickly in the ranks, so it will be worth it.” Sandra’s heart sank to her toes. “A wraith?” And a rough one at that? Oh, sweet Goddess, no. She felt a flush of fear rising on her neck and flooding her face. The last thing she wanted was to become part of an Invictus pair. She would lose who she was and she’d become a killer. Her knees felt wobbly. Margetta stared at her in the mirror, her lips curving. “It’s very odd. Your face went red, now it’s white. Maybe you should sit down. I suppose I’ve given you a shock.” She gestured for Sandra to sit on the button-tuck ottoman in the center of the Ancient Fae’s large dressing area. Uncertain her knees would hold her up, Sandra availed herself of the ottoman. Margetta was preparing herself for her midnight meal, the one time of night she enjoyed a formal dinner with her husband, Gustave.
