She ran through a few choice words in her head for the two as she turned to face the only other person left in the room with her, the man who was to be her mate. It didn’t help that the man looked as if he’d been stuck with the wimpy kid on a kickball team at recess whom nobody else wanted. Siriyn slumped in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. “What’s the big deal over a couple of questions?” she asked. “So far, Magdalyne’s daughters haven’t been exactly receptive to the Mating Rite of their homeworld.” “Really? I thought Brooke and Bethany were in Ilyria already settled.” Shifting in his chair, Siriyn gave her long look. “Sure…now. But first Brooke tried to run Rordyc over with the Hummer and Bethany attacked Wyc with a carving knife.” “Oh.” Amy pushed a curl out of her face. “What about Ellen? She and Amdyn seem to be getting along fairly well.” Siriyn’s face carefully composed into a blank mask. “That’s true.” “But…” she prompted when he didn’t elaborate.
