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The prince had come to claim his wife himself.
“Try not to look so much like you might kill a guest,” I whispered to Koraine. “I haven’t decided whether I will,” she answered, glaring at me, those icy blue eyes like daggers.
At this rate, we wouldn’t make it to our wedding day. One of us would give in to the temptation of killing the other, saving us all the trouble of going through it. War was inevitable, either with Morwen or my wife.
I couldn’t deny that one irrefutable fact. In a world of stars, Koraine was the moon.
“Don’t,” I warned her, but she continued. “You’re so warm,” she said, her hand against my skin. “Why did I think you would be cold?”
“Touching you is a terrible idea,” I whispered, unable to pull my hand away.
I was going to be queen someday, and his wife. We needed to learn how to function as a pair.
“She was in the kitchen and you convinced her to sit down for that hot leaf juice you love?” I asked.
“For your honesty I will show you mercy,” I said. “Thank you! Thank you, my prince,” he said hurriedly. He wouldn’t be thanking me if he knew what that mercy looked like. “Imry,” I said. Her name was enough for her to know, our connection running deep. The intense heat of her flames brushed my skin as it flew past me. The dragon incinerated the man where he stood, leaving behind barely a remnant of a person.
“I told them you’d come,” she whispered weakly. Her words trailed off, and she passed out again.
“You belong to no one,” I assured her in a low growl. “What if right now, I just want to belong to you?”
“I promise I’ll protect you even if it means my own life in trade,” I said,
“If I am the burning sun, ruled by flames, then you are my moon, ruling over the tides and completing the missing half of me.”
