Damon was breathing heavily, trying desperately to control his temper. But Camilla's thoughts did not stop there. Her brain continued to tear apart his male pride.
"I mean, seriously," Camilla's internal voice continued, her thoughts echoing clearly inside Damon's head. She leaned her chin on her hand, looking him up and down. "Is it that he can't get a woman pregnant? Or is it that he literally can't get hard?"
Damon felt a massive vein throb visibly on his forehead. His hands curled into tight, shaking fists at his sides. The absolute disrespect was overwhelming.
"I mean, it would explain a lot," her thoughts rambled on, filled with deep, mocking curiosity. "He is so angry all the time. He hides in the military camp. He runs away from a simple touch. Maybe the great Tyrant General has a tiny, broken sword!"
