CHAPTER 59

An audience with the Demon Lord always involved some form of humiliation. Like being forced to take the scenic lake route, and then showing up before Lucas dripping wet and chilled to the bone.

Huxley waded out of the lake and trudged up onto the shore. Pausing for a moment, he shook his head, then peeled off his soaked tee and wrung it hard. Water hit the sand with a muffled splash. Ten years. Ten damn years of working for the son of a bitch, and he’d never figured out another way to reach Lucas lair. And there were other ways. Those closer to the Demon Lord traveled back and forth without arriving soaking wet.

He eyed the crumpled, soggy lump in his hands and grimaced. He’d rather have the cool night air assaulting his bare skin than put that dripping wet T-shirt back on, but appearing topless before the Demon Lord was not an option. Not that Hux had any problem with showing some skin, no. Lucas s

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