Cecilia wondered what kind of person Sebastian was in this world.
Was he also a scholar…?
"Iris, you haven't met him so you don't know." Isla waved a dismissive hand. "That volcanic rock's best use is just for bed warmer. Although I know he loves me, his emotional intelligence is in the negative scale. He got foul mouth, he loves violence—even more than Damon. He's overprotective, overly possessive, he's arrogant, no honor, no—"
Isla went on and on, her complaints flowing like a river that had been dammed too long. But while she spoke… Ivy quietly slid her phone across the coffee table and into Cecilia's line of sight.
On the screen was a photograph of a very handsome, very dark-skinned man, tall and broad-shouldered, with a neatly trimmed beard and eyebrows sharp as swords. His expression was severe, his jaw set, his eyes held the burning world as he looked down on it.
Cecilia turned to Ivy, who mouthed silently at her, "This is Sebastian, by the way."
