"Excuse me," Thalina said flatly, "I was about to buy that."
The beastwoman turned her gaze lazily toward Thalina, looking her up and down in a way that made it very clear she wasn't impressed. "Oh?" she said, lips curling. "I didn't see you holding it."
Thalina's eye twitched. This female—
"I'd suggest you pick something else," the beastwoman continued, placing a hand on her hip. "This is a competition, right? You wouldn't want to use the same spice as your opponent."
Thalina opened her mouth to argue, but before she could unleash the full force of her irritation, Tharion plucked the jar effortlessly from the beastwoman's hand.
"Ah," he said smoothly, examining it. "This must be fate."
The beastwoman blinked. "What?"
"This spice—My female needs it. And since it's the last jar, it belongs to her." He gave her an innocent smile, his voice kind, but there was something dangerously sharp lurking beneath it.
