The vampiric cat studied Dwyn. “Ares, why would you choose me? There were more desperate lasses up there who would have followed your every command, easily.” Didn’t he know it. “Yet . . . you choose probably the most difficult one up there.”
Ares rolled his shoulders. “Sometimes, I like a challenge, Miss Dwyn. You’re also a very pretty girl.” He studied her face. “You’ve got violet eyes, yet you’re an albino. You’re confident, and not one of the meek orchids like Eyre or Rayne. I’m not a fan of those.” It was true. Ares liked when girls were confident and feisty. To say nothing of when they spoke their minds. This was another reason why he really liked Dwyn.
Ares was, to tell the truth, an extreme Dane. He’d grown from a flighty teen into a strong warrior, and it was thanks to Tarben and King Beartooth. He was proud to have claimed the king’s granddaughter. Beartooth had been like a father to him. They had begun to grow apart recently, but Ares still held him in the highest possible regard.
No matter how difficult Dwyn was, he was confident he could tame her. It’d be a matter of biding his time, wearing her down. As he’d said, he enjoyed a challenge.

“Somewhere another pretty vein just . . . dies!”